Review: ‘1776’

Thank God someone has opened up the window (of the box office) at the American Airlines Theatre! Roundabout Theatre Company’s revival of 1776 opened Thursday night, nearly 25 years after the show’s first and only Broadway revival (also produced by Roundabout).

Let’s get this out of the way: it’s impossible to not make comparisons to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton, which similarly alters the identities of America’s Founding Fathers. But in this reframing of 1776, co-directed by visionaries Jeffrey L. Page and Diane Paulus, the Second Continental Congress is composed of female, transgender, and nonbinary performers. This ensemble of multi-talented actors step into the shoes of our country’s framers, quite literally, as they tread the path to independence from Britain.

Page and Paulus have reexamined the original 1969 musical through a seemingly Brechtian lens, a style marked by minimalism and a self-awareness of both audience and actor. The costumes are simple yet well-garnished by Emilio Sosa. The stage is bare yet transformable, constructed by Scott Pask. There are fourth-wall breaks and obvious scenery changes, often orchestrated by the cast themselves. Our disbelief is never once asked to be suspended. This 1776 worries less about a historical reenactment of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and more about the boisterous conversations that led to a nation with a habit of failing its people.

Sherman Edwards’ and Peter Stone’s musical has always been a spoof. A large group of egotistical, whiny old men in a hot, buggy room shouting at each other. What’s not to laugh at? Fortunately, this production avoids adding any new mockery. There is not only a genuine attempt to capture the show’s original satire, but also a visible appreciation of the original source material.

Musical theatre fun fact of the day: 1776 is known for having the longest scene of spoken dialogue in between musical numbers of any Broadway musical. It’s no easy feat. Kudos to the well-sized company for quickly grasping our attention, despite working with a script that’s notorious for sluggish pacing.

To thank is the energetic cast of decently strong performers, many of which are making their Broadway debut. Leading the team is Crystal Lucas Perry as the determined John Adams of Massachusetts. While her voice is fine, it’s her unwavering and consistently passionate acting that solidifies her portrayal. She and Allyson Kaye Daniel (a supportive Abigail Adams) share tender moments between their reprises of “Yours, Yours, Yours” , revealing a more hushed, warm Perry. Other standouts include Shawna Hamic as a pun-filled Richard Henry Lee of Virginia who is hilarious and gleefully animated; Carolee Carmello in her well-deserved return to Broadway is deliciously insidious as the self-righteous John Dickinson of Pennsylvania; and Eryn LeCroy as the delightful Martha Jefferson, bringing a refreshing soprano voice to a Broadway stage with an outstanding “He Plays the Violin”.

Also worth noting is the deepening of Abigail Adams’ character (one of only two women in 1776). She appears through the exchange of letters and other dreamlike sequences comforting Mr. Adams and reminding him of her love. The script has been revised to now briefly include Abigail’s advocacy for the inclusion of (white) women in the Declaration. (Spoiler: this request was not fulfilled.) Dialogue has been added to a scene in the first act, taken directly from a letter Abigail sent to her husband in March of 1776, urging him to “remember the ladies”. She writes, “Be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands. Remember all men would be tyrants if they could.” It’s an important moment to include (though dampened by preachy delivery) and tries to amend an otherwise male-centric script.

When playing with social politics, it’s dangerously easy to place directorial choices onto the nose of the audience. It’s a mistake that Paulus and Page make here. I wish this 1776 trusted its viewers to detect subtext without the spoon-feeding of certain gimmicks. There is an unnecessary handful of clichés that we’ve seen before and distort the vision of an otherwise mostly fleshed production. That may be one of the hardest challenges when creating art in a for-profit, commercial climate: how do we satisfy the masses without sacrificing nuance?

There are a couple scenes in the 2 hour and 45 minute saga that have taken on new meaning. It’s most visible in the musical’s second act when the men debate whether or not to include language that prohibits slavery in Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration. It’s one of the few moments that validates Page’s and Paulus’ choice to revive this classic musical comedy. They find a fresh nuance in a history that cannot be forgotten. A frozen Perry, as if emerging from her own role, stares blankly into the audience while Edward Rutledge of South Carolina (a grimacing Sara Porkalab) spews a racist tirade, refusing to sign a document that embraces an anti-slavery clause. It’s a protest that jeopardizes unanimous approval. The scene eerily shifts into “Molasses to Rum,” the show’s highlight (performed expertly by Porkalab). The ensemble contorts Independence Hall into a twisted nightmare of slavery depictions, choreographed hauntingly by Page. From then on, we’re forced to witness these individuals, all of whom descend from underrepresented backgrounds, sign a document that historically rejected each of them. It's a chilling irony.

Since its initial announcement in 2019 and through its out-of-town premiere at Boston’s American Repertory Theatre this summer, a common question has been “why this casting”? And the answer is truly as simple: “why not?” There’s a space for the flashback carbon-copy Golden Age revival (many of which Roundabout is known for). But there’s also a space for the revival that challenges its original material, as if crafting a new story from the framework of its predecessor. If art is truly a living, breathing thing, then we most allow it to grow with the winds of progress.

Whether this particular casting “works” or not is a question that can only be answered by the audience who, as always, will each bring their own identities, biases, and privileges into the theatre. But the attempt itself is one worth voting for.

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