The company of Jagged Little Pill (Photo by Matthew Murphy, Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade)
The company of Jagged Little Pill (Photo by Matthew Murphy, Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade)

Jagged Little Pill

Reviewed by Socks Whitmore

Pantages Theatre

Thru Oct. 2

 If you enjoy the music of Alanis Morissette, the writing of Diablo Cody (Juno, Jennifer’s Body), or any opportunity to see Broadway shows in Los Angeles, then you probably already know that Jagged Little Pill has opened at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre. A jukebox musical inspired by Morissette’s 1995 album of the same name, featuring songs from across her catalogue, this dramatic alt-rock show begins with a dysfunctional family of four and a surface look at their various secrets: a workaholic husband (Steve) who hides his porn addiction, a Christmas card housewife (Mary Jane/MJ) whose dependency on pain medication is spiraling, their successful son (Nick) who is perfect in every way except for knowing how to make his own decisions, and their adopted daughter (Frankie) who is zealously advocating for her “cause of the week” in between making out with her best friend/queer situationship, Jo. Everyone seems prepared to keep their insecurities and failing marriages to themselves, but after Nick and Frankie attend a party that ends in their classmate Bella being sexually assaulted, conversations start to take place — some for better, some for worse.

JLP was the 2020 winner of the Tony for Best Book of a Musical, and for good reason. The dialogue is witty, the humor is tongue-in-cheek, and the story itself is one of the most compelling, provocative tales to make it to Broadway. The show takes on a number of challenging themes simultaneously; from Frankie’s experience as a Black queer teen being raised by white parents in suburban Connecticut, to the complicated feelings of a rape survivor who is stuck in a victim-blaming mentality, it doesn’t balk from the uncomfortable. Similarities can be seen to the narrative archetypes of other dramatic musicals like Next to Normal and Dear Evan Hansen, such as absent yet possessive parents, a comparative relationship between the “perfect” and imperfect sibling, and love stories hijacked by trauma. Also keeping in style with many other contemporary shows is the intelligent use of video design to create dynamic backgrounds; JLP’s makes good use of real photographs and the image of a house that experiences several changes throughout the show as the panel screens move around onstage. It all rests under the “roof” of another house, an outline made of simple blue LED light—a poignant choice when considering the themes of the show.

One of the most thrilling design elements of the show is the collaboration between choreographer and set designer. JLP is riddled with showstopper moments that incorporate spinning desks and chairs, church pews, even swing sets (a set piece one rarely even sees on stage) as the cast rapidly transforms the landscape of the stage during the songs. Standout numbers include “Uninvited,” which has particularly phenomenal choreography drenched in the powerful desperation of MJ’s present and former selves, and “Smiling,” which utilizes gorgeous, mesmerizing “backwards” blocking to reverse time on stage. Several of the actors also carry out some impressive physical feats as they sing; Jade McLeod as Jo sings while crowd-surfing, Dillon Klena as Nick sings while doing push-ups, and Lauren Chanel as Frankie sings with Rishi Golani as her other love interest Phoenix while they both clamber on the rotating swing set. McLeod also merits a standing ovation for their gut-wrenching performance of “You Oughta Know.”

Despite the many ways in which the show aims to captivate, there are also more than a few ways in which it doesn’t quite land. The sensory experience alone is off-putting; the music is consistently mixed too loud, making it difficult to understand the lyrics, flashing strobe lights are used in a variety of places without caution, most of the ensemble vocals and solo riffs are unimpressive, and the supporting actors are used excessively and heavy-handedly to the point of flat-out ruining numbers by crowding the stage. When the choreography isn’t stunningly beautiful, it more often than not reads as floppy and overactive. The first 10-15 minutes of JLP are a gaudy mess and could be cut altogether with little consequence. Major flaws remain in the narrative, like the fact that the rape survivor Bella is ushered into an empowered, loud activism arc by Frankie, because it’s not even clear if Bella is a leading or supporting character. The show as a whole tries to maintain intensity for too long and lacks true levity.

JLP frequently reads more as a concert with a story or a series of weird music videos than a true musical, pandering to an audience of existing Morissette fans who wouldn’t be in the seats of a theater otherwise. The creators are all clearly masters of their crafts, but the 2021 Grammy for Best Musical Theater Album feels like a slight to the medium of musical theater — despite Morissette having the advantage of being directly involved with the making of the jukebox, the show still falls prey to the common jukebox flaw of failing to understand dramatic song placement, and the messy manifestation it has onstage shows that the team doesn’t yet know how to work within MT.

Another mar on the show’s record is the major controversy that has plagued it since it was revealed in 2021 that the character of Jo (then played by cis actress Lauren Patten) was originally written as gender non-conforming. In One Step Forward, Two Steps Back: Broadway’s Jagged Little Journey Toward Nonbinary Inclusion, nonbinary theater critic Christian Lewis outlines the ways in which the team first erased transness from the character before coming to Broadway, then denied that any transness had ever existed, a move that was followed by several cast members departing based on the harm done to their non-binary cast members as well as the TGNC community at large. The height of the drama led to a formal statement from the JLP team and a commitment to better serve the trans community by bringing on more trans and nonbinary collaborators. Fast-forward to today’s North American touring company of the show, and Jo is being performed and understudied by two talented non-binary individuals. There are also several transgender and GNC performers in other parts of the cast, proving that the JLP team is indeed working to make good on their promises. However, even if these decisions are taken as an act of good faith, the damage may have already been done; a show as progressive and bold as JLP can only last with the support of the queer, neurodivergent, trauma-surviving audiences it was made for, and the bad taste from 2021 has not left the mouths of many. The rise and the destined fall of this powerful, yet under-baked show illustrates many points about how to make (and how not to make) challenging modern theatre that will last.

Jagged Little Pill is a show about pain, healing, courage, and catharsis, and it is not for everyone. One hopes that it will receive one or two last rounds of revisions someday, and return to stage in a final, immaculate form. But even in this state of being rough-around-the-edges, it still has beautiful moments and a moving story to offer; we don’t have to ask for perfect to allow it to change us forever.

Pantages Theatre, 6233 Hollywood Blvd, Los Angeles; Tues.-Sat., 8:00 pm; Sat., 2:00 pm.; Sun., 1:00 pm & 6:30 pm. https://www.broadwayinhollywood.com/events/detail/jaggedlittlepill Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including intermission