Soft Power, from the provocative team of David Henry Hwang and Jeanine Tesori, is inventive, satiric, caustic and highlighted by intriguing doses of theatricality. Yet it is only fair to say that the elements don’t quite mesh. There are numerous high points along the way, especially from leading players Conrad Ricamora, Alyse Alan Louis—as a singing-and-dancing musical comedy heroine named Hillary Clinton—and Francis Jue. The overall results, alas, don’t even begin to rouse us in the manner of numerous past Public Theater musicals. Rather, we sit there—as the action winds to a climax—often amused but also often puzzled.
The plot: An American playwright with Chinese parentage named David Henry Hwang (Jue) is hired by Chinese stage producer Xūe Xíng (Ricamora) to write an American-style musical to inaugurate an entertainment complex in Shanghai. Hwang is dismayed when his favored presidential candidate—one Hillary Clinton (Louis)—loses the 2016 U.S. election; the next day, mistaken for an immigrant delivery man, Hwang is stabbed in the neck and left for dead. (Hwang, the real-life playwright best known for M. Butterfly, was indeed stabbed in the neck—nearly fatally—by an anti-immigrant follower of the new president.)
In a coma, Hwang-the-character imagines an American-style musical to open the entertainment complex in Shanghai, which features, if you’re following me, an American playwright with Chinese parentage named David Henry Hwang and a Chinese stage producer Xūe Xíng, the latter of whom falls in thrall to Mrs. Clinton during a pre-election McDonald’s fantasia and then falls in love with the defeated ex-candidate. (In this musical comedy world, there is no Bill Clinton—and just as well.)
[Read Michael Sommers’ ★★★ review here.]
Where does this all end up? And how do Hwang and Tesori tie the fever-dream to the relatively real-life world of the play section of this musical-within-a-play? They don’t, at least not in this incarnation of Soft Power, a co-production with the Center Theatre Group of Los Angeles (where an earlier version premiered in May 2018).
At its best, Soft Power gives us deliciously rose-colored-glass parodies of such Broadway favorites as The Music Man (with a “Trouble” take off), Bells Are Ringing (with a sprightly Styne/Comden/Green “Just in Time” parody), and even later Sondheim (with an introspective closing number that comes from somewhere among Merrily We Roll Along, Assassins, and Road Show). Plus choreographic nods to Robbins, de Mille, and Fosse.
The basis of the musical-within-the-play is, naturally enough, The King and I. Hwang (the on-stage playwright) explains that he is more or less trying to juxtapose the Rodgers and Hammerstein classic; instead of the cultured English governess enlightening the barbarian king, here it’s the Chinese king (or, rather, Xíng) who tries to civilize the defeated American. Hwang further convolutes this by having Xíng and Clinton—both of whom are unhappily tethered to loveless marriages—kiss in the shadow as they dream what it’s like to be loved by you.
But at some point the fun stops, as the fantasy runs aground. In this case, the authors reach a number wherein their musical comedy vice president (a droll Raymond J. Lee, called “Veep” in the cast list) surrounded by senators toting assault rifles leads a big, friendly hoedown called “Good Guy with a Gun.” This might have been a funny notion when the authors first came up with it, presumably a couple of years ago. In today’s United States, it is resolutely unfunny; at the Public, one can sense the good will of the audience deflate and turn sour at this point near the end of the evening.
Hwang does seem to be onto something with Soft Power; perhaps it would have worked better as a play, although the playwright’s post-M. Butterfly track record shows that he is more likely to get produced with musicals (even imperfect musicals like Aida, Tarzan, and the rehashed Flower Drum Song) than with thought-provoking plays (like Golden Child and Chinglish). Composer Tesori once again admirably adapts her musical style to fit the material; while her Soft Power score provides a good deal of Broadway-musical fun, it has the power of neither of her prior Public offerings, the fascinatingly intriguing Caroline, or Change (with Tony Kushner) or the magnificent Fun Home (with Lisa Kron).
Where Soft Power is more successful is in the production. Leading the pack is the band, 22 pieces—tripling the size of many current Broadway musicals—from which Tesori gets the big Broadway sound she has envisioned, thanks to top-rate work from orchestrator Danny Troob (with John Clancy and Larry Hochman) and music director Chris Fenwick. Designer Clint Ramos—who’s having a busy couple of weeks, with Slave Play and The Rose Tattoo—provides delightful musical comedy touches in his sets, which are matched by Anita Yavich’s costumes (highlighted by her work for the Clinton character). Choreographer Sam Pinkleton (of The Great Comet) also demonstrates witty musical comedy skills. The whole is under the direction of Leigh Silverman (from Tesori’s Violet and Hwang’s Chinglish), who deserves credit for her handling of the musical within the play but could have perhaps better guided the authors dramaturgically.
That said, the lead performances are strong and the entire ensemble most entertaining. Ricamora, a major presence as Aquino in the Public’s Here Lies Love, displays all round musical comedy charms. (When Soft Power goes off into its King and I section, one recalls Ricamora’s convincing portrayal of Lun Tha in the 2015 Lincoln Center production of that musical). Jue, who stood out as the “Welcome to Kanagawa” madam in the 2004 Roundabout Pacific Overtures and was an original cast member of Tesori’s Thoroughly Modern Millie, does a fine job as the playwright and offers felicitous work while playing his role in the musical within the play.
Ms. Louis, previously all-but-unknown to this viewer, provides pure joy as Hilary-Clinton-as-we-would-like-her-to-be. But watching this H. Clinton fantasia, I can’t help thinking that Soft Power might have seemed refreshing in 2017 (or 2008, for that matter), but in today’s rapid-pace political world seems way past the “use by” date stamped on the label.
Soft Power is certainly not an entertainment for supporters of the current-day commander-in-chief (whose name goes purposely unmentioned through the evening), and understandably so. Those citizens are in any case unlikely to show up at the Public for Soft Power. As someone who thoroughly agrees with the political tone of Hwang and Tersori’s evening, though, I was surprised to find myself thinking they’ve overplayed their hand and gotten lost in the hustings.
Soft Power opened October 15, 2019, at the Public Theater and runs through November 17. Tickets and information: publictheater.org
