Lizzie Borden swings a mean axe in Lizzie the Musical, both as a rage-fueled maybe murderess and as the electrifying voice leading this hard-charging, concert-style rock musical. For director-choreographer Jennifer J. Hopkins’ bracing new production at the Keegan, Lizzie’s voice — and her rage and riveting determination — reside in Caroline Graham.
Lacing Lizzie’s fury with a winking sense of humor, Graham positively shreds the grunge-punk rock score composed by Steven Cheslik-DeMeyer and Alan Stevens Hewitt, with lyrics by Cheslik-DeMeyer and Tim Maner. Maner wrote the show’s book, which hews close to the known facts and testimony that have shaped public perception of the notorious 1892 murder case.
The creators also take license to dive into lesser-known speculation surrounding Lizzie’s life as a budding lesbian, among other secrets inside the Borden house that might have led to the murders of Lizzie’s father, property owner Andrew Borden, and his second wife, Abby.
Father and stepmom don’t take the stage but remain stern-faced portraits projected into frames looming over the two-story set. The tale of their ghastly demise is told by the survivors — Lizzie and her older sister Emma (Sydne Lyons), plus the family’s housemaid Bridget (Brigid Wallace Harper), and their neighbor Alice Russell (Savannah Blackwell) — who begin by ushering us inside “The House of Borden,” an imposingly dark melody awash in grinding guitars.
Guitarists Jefferson Hirshman and Jason Seiler are the real swinging axes here, standouts in the show’s sick band, conducted by music director Marika Countouris. From the strutting rock of “The House of Borden,” to Lizzie’s lacerating ballad “This Is Not Love” and her brash, grunge-soaked declaration “Gotta Get Out of Here,” the pumping music propels Graham’s powerful vocals as much as the potent subject matter.
The musicians only sound tentative in their attack on the more showtune-style songs, like the first act’s “The Soul of the White Bird,” and Alice’s wan love ballad “If You Knew,” a plaintive confession of her feelings for Lizzie. The latter number gains little force from Blackwell’s performance, which more or less plateaus at nice even when situations seem to call for more fervent emotions.
Harper invests strong-willed servant Bridget with an appealing fire suited to Bridget’s suspicious role in these grave events. Likewise, Lyons makes a strong impression as big sis Emma, who declares her support and loyalty with “Sweet Little Sister,” before conveniently leaving town to create a rock-solid alibi for herself on the day of the murders.
Another singable, head-banging tune to rock out to, “Sweet Little Sister” nevertheless also illustrates a consistent weakness in the concert-style staging, which sees characters singing thoughts and feelings to a listener just standing there.
In this case, Emma’s saying she has to leave; Lizzie wants her to stay. This might feel tense if Emma’s bag weren’t already packed and sitting right there. There’s no action in the scene, no vividly choreographed body language or movement, or even a pantomime of indecision or physical conflict.
They’re standing there, one singing, the other listening. The songs are well worth listening to, though, blistering expressions of female rage and revolution. And Graham sounds like a storm set loose whipping through Lizzie’s soaring solos, and teaming up effectively with Blackwell, Harper, and Lyons on numbers like punk-rock ripper “Why Are All These Heads Off?” and impassioned power ballad “Burn the Old Thing Up.”
They’re referring in the song to burning up evidence in the bloody crimes. Despite her enduring notoriety as a killer, real-life Lizzie was eventually acquitted, partly due to the lack of physical evidence. “I am innocent,” she pleads, a defiant, insistent voice from the past, grasping at redemption through rock and roll.
Lizzie the Musical (★★★☆☆) runs through Nov. 30, at The Keegan Theatre, 1742 Church St. NW. Tickets are $65, with discounts available for students, seniors 62+, and patrons under 25. Rush tickets available at the door, starting an hour before showtime. Visit keegantheatre.com.
"It's a great first opera," Patrick Dupre Quigley says of Dido and Aeneas, currently in the midst of its Opera Lafayette debut. "And it's an opera that has survived in reasonably constant performance since it was first done in the 17th century."
The English Baroque work, composed by Henry Purcell with a libretto by Nahum Tate, runs a brisk, intermissionless 65 minutes. "It has one of the most well-known English-language arias of all time," Quigley notes.
That aria -- "When I Am Laid in Earth" -- is sung by Dido over "what we call a ground bass, which means it's basically a bassline that repeats over and over and over again, and different music is placed on top of it for the three and a half minutes of the aria," Quigley says.
Given how often today's news outlets distort the truth or report outright lies, it's almost comical that E.L. Doctorow's 1975 novel Ragtime was once dismissed by The New Yorker's editor William Shawn. Because Doctorow's tale, set in the early twentieth century, wove real historical figures into fictional lives, Shawn refused to publish a full-length review, calling the book "immoral."
Now, the musical adaptation returns with forceful, spectacular splendor at Lincoln Center's Vivian Beaumont Theatre. And this second revival of the beloved story arrives on Broadway at just the right time.
"Friends, Harlemites, countrymen, lend me your ears." The Folger has brought the Bard uptown, courtesy of Al Letson's Julius X, a deft reimagining of Shakespeare's tragedy Julius Caesar as a depiction of the last days of Malcolm X.
As the playwright points out in the production's program notes, Shakespeare's drama of the betrayal and assassination of the political leader in ancient Rome overlaps pretty effectively, plot-wise and thematically, with an account of the betrayal and assassination of the civil rights leader in Harlem 1965.
Accordingly, for Letson's modernized mashup, stylishly staged by Nicole Brewer, the conspirators carry daggers not pistols to slay Julius X inside the Audubon Ballroom. Instead of robes and togas, they rock natty suits, courtesy of costume designer Danielle Preston, who keeps the cast dripping in Harlem swag.
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
You must be logged in to post a comment.