Several questions confront those of us who, precisely ten years ago, were held spellbound by the David Byrne-Fatboy Slim musical Here Lies Love at the Public Theater. Does the experience remain irrepressibly vibrant? Does the writing retain its provocatively gripping power? Does the kinetic jolt of the staging, conceived for an intimate ballroom-like space, dissipate when the cast is redirected to play to the folks in the upper reaches of one of Broadway’s largest houses?
The answers to these questions are… yes, kind of.
The vast array of inventive vibrancy is still there to be seen and felt. But while the 2013 Here Lies Love sent you bursting onto Astor Place eager to spread the word and plot a return visit, the level of excitement of those now experiencing the show for the first time, at the Broadway Theatre, is less predictable.
If we must wager a guess, it would be that those watching from the stage floor will experience the thrill of the original conception. As for those sitting outside the action, in what remains of the Broadway Theatre’s vast auditorium? Let’s just say that they might feel not only removed from the stage, but removed from the euphoric Here Lies Love experience as well.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
The authors weave a tale of politics, power, and corruption, which is admittedly not all that new if you know your Shakespeare or, even Evita. Imelda, a poor girl from the slums, captures the eye of up-and-coming politician Ferdinand Marcos; marries him; becomes a world celebrity while her husband oppresses the people; and doesn’t live happily ever after. This is, in some ways, a direct variation of Evita, with the names changed and Buenos Aires displaced by Manila. That said, Here Lies Love is more vibrantly told; the creators of Evita worked within the traditions of the Broadway/West End musical of 50 years ago, while Byrne and Slim seem to have made their own rules and set the metronome to a very much contemporary beat.
The authors were most fortunate in the selection of their director and overall artistic overseer. Alex Timbers came to prominence with the 2010 Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, which translated poorly in its Broadway transfer; and the 2011 Peter and the Starcatcher, which managed to retain its magic upon its uptown move. Timbers also directed the musical juggernaut Moulin Rouge!, but that came five years after the original Here Lies Love opened in 2013.
The stage magic here comes not only from Timbers but from his production team. The director, choreographer Annie-B Parson, and scenic designer David Korins have placed their show within a compact rectangular space. The original concept was for the audience to watch not from traditional rows of traditional theater seats, but while standing within the action. The actors bustle through, with well-trained jump-suited technicians shuttling both cast and patrons from the path of danger (i.e., moving platforms and scenery) as if the whole place were an airport runway decked with boughs of disco balls. When the Marcos government is toppled in the People Power Revolution, you might well feel the crush of the crowd while helicopters hover above.
Uptown, Timbers’ design team has been given free reign and full budget. The lighting by Justin Townsend, the projections by Peter Nigrini, and the sound by M.L. Dogg and Cody Spencer do not simply enhance the show: they are the show. As for costume designer Clint Ramos, his altogether splendid costumes from downtown seem to have been recreated with unlimited funds, with results which are even more fancifully delectable.
If only everything were so easy. Following the extended limited engagement in 2013, the Public management attempted to transfer the show to a larger space where it could work both artistically and commercially. Unable to find such a venue, they instead remounted Here Lies Love as a commercial production in the original space at the Public. The limited seating capacity—or, rather, standing capacity—could not begin to support the costs.
In the interim, a new team of producers—I count 59 names and producing entities above the title, in understandably small print—formed to bring this Must-See-Musical back to town. They have done so by replacing the main floor at the Broadway with a replica of the Public Theater playing space, complete with the two rows of seats overlooking the dance floor from the sidelines. But the actual seating area at the Broadway—23rows, encompassing the house’s existing front and rear mezzanines—is very much not part of the action. The staging has been adjusted so that sections of the show are played towards the mezz, instead of inward to those lucky folk on the stage floor; and several platforms have been added to the upper reaches, where dancers occasionally dance in an attempt to bring at least some of the action to the people.
But Here Lies Love is conceived around the notion of immersive audience involvement. How that applies to the 500 seats up there is hard to say, but it is likely not what Byrne and Slim and Timbers had in mind.
(Historical note: this is at least the third time that the Broadway—which opened as a vast, first-run movie house—has been torn apart to fit a non-traditional staging. The first two, Dude in 1972 and Candide in 1974, did not work out so well.)
High among the joys of the evening is the work of the highly talented, ever-present, and perpetually propelled cast. The piece—like Evita—is devised around three principal roles, and there are three dynamic players on view. Jose Llana has been giving standout performances since he first appeared in 1996 as a teen-aged Lun Tha in the Donna Murphy King and I; among the numerous highlights of his career were Chip Tolentino, the candy-selling contestant in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, and a replacement stint as the King in the 2015 Lincoln Center King and I. As convincing as his Marcos was ten years ago at the Public, Llana’s performance is now even more compelling. Conrad Ricamora—who followed Here Lies Love by playing Lun Tha in that Lincoln Center King and I—also brings added resonance to his performance as political contender Ninoy Aquino.
Raising the roof of the Broadway, in the brief role of Aquino’s grieving mother, is Lea Salonga—who regularly raised said roof back during the first year of the Broadway run of Miss Saigon. Salonga, the eighth-named of those five dozen producers, has stepped in for what has been announced as the first month of the run, through August 13. To say that her performance of “Just Ask the Flowers” is the high point of the evening is to inadvertently address the weak spot of this production.
Ruthie Ann Miles, a veritable newcomer back in 2013, gave one of the most memorable performances of the decade when she portrayed Imelda in the original production of Here Lies Love. The fact that we are highlighting Llana and Ricamora, and even Lea Salonga, points to the lack of dynamism of the present Imelda. Arielle Jacobs, a replacement in the Broadway companies of Aladdin and Wicked, is fine in the central role in Here Lies Love. But fine, alas, is not always enough. Watching Salonga up there setting fire to the place within the first refrain of her one song, we could only wonder what she could do if she were standing in Imelda’s shoes. If you know what I mean.
The original Here Lies Love was one of those brilliantly unconventional non-Broadway musicals which—like Fun Home, Hamilton, and Dear Evan Hansen before it—numerous viewers found far better, and infinitely more exciting, than the Tony-eligible Broadway musicals of their respective seasons. Fun Home, Hamilton, and Dear Evan Hansen retained and even expanded their power once they worked their way to Broadway, each of them playing a significant part in changing the trajectory of the Broadway musical (and no, I’m not overstating this).
Here Lies Love remains an impressive and effective experience; but uptown on Broadway, at the over-sized Broadway, the bloom is off the rose of Tacloban (to borrow the title of Imelda’s opening number). Regretfully, we conclude that the uptown edition—as of the official opening—is not yet quite so powerful as what enthralled us, three times, down on Astor Place.
Here Lies Love opened July 20, 2023, at the Broadway Theatre. Tickets and information: herelieslovebroadway.com
