The show the Kennedy Center needs

I sat watching Parade, and as soon as the first song ended, I found myself thinking, "Why am I doing this to myself? This story is so depressing." I remember having the same exact thought the last time I saw this show. 

(Though at the same time, I'm like, "The 2011 production at Ford's was so good! I had the best time with that show! So fun!")

So why do I do it to myself? It's because the show is just that good. Jason Robert Brown's songs are phenomenal; I get them in my head on the regular and then get annoyed that "The Old Red Hills of Home" is such a catchy song. And the story is told so well.

Parade is a true story. When I tell people the plot, they're bewildered at it being a musical, and I don't blame them. It's the story of Leo Frank (Max Chernin), found guilty of murdering a 13-year-old girl who worked in the pencil factory where he was superintendent in 1913, and his wife Lucille (Talia Suskauer), who did all she could to get him exonerated. But after his death sentence was commuted to life in prison, a mob found him and lynched him. Leo Frank was Jewish, and from Brooklyn, living in Atlanta less than 50 years after the end of the Civil War.

It's currently playing at the Kennedy Center and while the current direction of that institution is, um, not great, it's the perfect place for the show right now. Brown has a great post on his Facebook about the meaning of the piece. Watching it, Leo Frank's story resonates strongly over 100 years after it happened--in the bored newspaperman who's excited to have a big story to cover, in the would-be politician/media owner inciting the crowds to rise against the outsider Jew, in the Black bystanders who see what's happening and bemoan the lack of attention given to the injustices inflicted upon them, in the district attorney who finds an someone to blame for crime whether or not he did it. But there's also the governor who goes against the prevailing opinion and stands up for truth, even when it costs him his position. And a sweet love story.

The staging of the show--a national tour of the recent Broadway revival--is excellent. The set itself is incredibly simple, with just a small raised platform and occasional furniture. The show relies heavily on projections, both to give backdrops for the various settings but also to show us pictures of the actual people involved. I was particularly struck when the other pencil factory girls had their pictures shown, labeled as "Mary's Co-Workers." These are teenage girls, maybe 14 or 15 years old. That they're working in a factory is horrific. (That parts of the country have passed laws to make this legal again is even more horrific.)

The performances themselves were fantastic--consistently, all around. I may have preferred Euan Morton's transformation in the Ford's production during "Come Up to My Office" a touch, but I can't complain about Chernin or Suskauer in any way. "All the Wasted Time" is a favorite of mine, and heavens, the two of them had some chemistry during that song.

Talia Suskauer and Max Chernin--get these two a room! Photo by Joan Marcus.

Most of the cast was on the stage most of the time, with the main action on the raised platform as the rest of the cast frequently sat on the sides; they were generally, but not always, involved in the action from there. Particularly noticeable was that the Black actors did not participate in many of the songs, especially in the first act. They would look at each other with "Can you believe this?!"-type faces that were just perfect. This is a show where it's worth watching everyone who's on the stage at any given time.

It's a hard show but it's a great show and one well worth your time and money.