Jordan Barbour, J. Cameron Barnett, Malachi McCaskill, Tarra Conner Jones, and Jamari Johnson Williams (Photo by Alessandra Mello)
Reviewed by F. Kathleen Foley
Ahmanson Theater
Through June 30
RECOMMENDED
The word “meta” — broadly defined as a story or character that comments on itself — has been sadly overused in recent years. But dust off the term and you can readily apply it to Michael R. Jackson’s Pulitzer and Tony-winning A Strange Loop, a musical about a fat, Black, queer playwright (Jackson’s words) writing a musical about a fat, Black, queer playwright writing a musical about…well, you get the picture.
That’s the loop, and it’s strange indeed. You can’t get much more “meta” than Jackson’s baldly self-referential piece, which fictionalizes his own experiences as an overweight gay Black man trying to make it in the musical theater.
Stylistically speaking, Jackson’s mélange offers a dizzying blend of over-the-top comical caricatures, huge production numbers, Broadway in-jokes, and some of the most graphic sexual content you will see this side of a Times Square sex shop. Be advised: Oklahoma! this ain’t. (Although, as an aside, that slice of quaint Americana was also considered wildly innovative back in its day.)
The action centers around the aptly named Usher (Malachi McCaskill), who is making ends meet as a Disney usher while writing his musical A Strange Loop. (Meta upon meta upon…) Usher’s constant companions are his intrusive thoughts, cleverly personified as Thoughts 1 through 6. Constant reminders of Usher’s failures and inadequacies, they vault in and out of his consciousness as he struggles to make sense of his seemingly futile struggle – his artistic derailment, his thwarted yearning for love, his lifelong self-loathing, and his inability to establish emotional boundaries.
The Thoughts — Tarra Conner Jones, J. Cameron Barnett, Avionce Hoyles, John-Andrew Morrison, Jordan Barbour and Carlis Shane Clark — provide stunning backup to McCaskill’s notably unfussy lynchpin performance. Considering his maturity and range, it strains belief to learn that McCaskill is a junior pursuing a degree in Fine Arts at the University of North Carolina. (What is this, his semester project?)
Whatever his antecedents, McCaskill fades into the background with deceptive quietude. Yet he is the still center of the play — the quietly accepting victim caught in the whirlpool of his stridently invasive thoughts, until he begins to swim against the tide.
Jackson’s dreamlike, stream-of-consciousness scenario ranges from the parodic to the poignant, with broad comedy dominating the earlier scenes. When Usher is hired to write a “gospel musical” for Tyler Perry, he repeatedly expresses his contempt for Perry’s broadly reductive work, which he considers more commercial than creative. But Usher’s disdainful view is countered — there’s that loop again — when a group of historical luminaries — Harriet Tubman, Marcus Garvey, et al — burst onstage, taking him to task for his racial elitism.
That comical tone gives way to a shockingly sordid sexual encounter that leaves Usher in a state of existential despair. His anguish is compounded by his failure to connect with his doting but obdurately homophobic mother (a moving Morrison, reprising his Obie-winning, Tony-nominated turn).
Usher’s lack of affect is finally punctured by the brilliantly ironic number “AIDS is God’s punishment,” during which Usher confronts his mother’s fundamentalist beliefs. It is here that the worm turns, and Usher’s neediness begins to morph into defiance. If you were expecting a tender rapprochement between the two, however, look elsewhere. Mother tearfully, lovingly continues to insist that “hell is real,” and that her son’s homosexuality is an abomination that will separate them in the afterlife — a warped view that Usher is finally able to compartmentalize and reject.
Director Stephen Brackett, choreographer Raja Feather Kelly, and an inspired creative team — most notably lighting designer Jen Schriever—have been with the show since its genesis and bring all the razzle-dazzle of the on-and-off Broadway productions to this West Coast premiere. Sadly, due to illness, the heralded Broadway production was forced to close after a brief run. This Loop is a golden opportunity to experience one of the most unusual and innovative musicals since, well . . . Oklahoma!
Ahmanson Theatre, 135 N. Grand Ave., downtown Los Angeles. Tues.-Friday, 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 and 8 p.m.; Sun., 1:00 and 6:30 p.m. thru June 30, www.centertheatregroup.org Running time: one hour and 40 minutes with no intermission.
