Passing Strange, Young Vic Review
Giles Terera (front), Keenan Munn-Francis, David Albury and Renée Lamb in Passing Strange. (c) Marc Brenner Written by Charlotte for Theatre and Tonic.
Disclaimer: Tickets were gifted in return for an honest review. All views are my own.
Sixteen years after its critically acclaimed Broadway run, Passing Strange makes its European premiere with sweeping, if overwrought, musical fervour. Set in the 1970s and led by a suave starring performance from Giles Terrera as the Narrator, the show follows an unnamed ‘Youth’ (Keenan Munn-Francis) on his search for ‘the real’ from his home in South Central Los Angeles to the artistic subcultures of Amsterdam and Berlin.
The show is perhaps better classed as a rock odyssey than a musical with its psychedelic design and masterful score, a rock-and-roll base with infusions of gospel, punk, and blues played with mind-blowing ferocity by the onstage band who steal the show on more than one occasion. The music is unquestionably the star of the piece, acting as a clever structural mirror to the ‘Youth’ on his journey through his own identity. As the Youth explores what blackness means for his art, the score weaves through a wide canon of African-American musical culture, setting the Youth’s discovery of his love of music to the tune of a soulful gospel number and his performance of a brutalised black persona for a troupe of political artists to the tune of a carnivalesque, mistral-like melody.
The Youth and his omnipresent Narrator are not alone in this odyssey. Again, in true rock concert form, they are flanked by a tight ensemble of backup singers who, in their multi-rolling from youth choir members to Dutch philistines to German radicals, prove themselves to be anything but ‘backup.’ Liesl Tommy’s playful direction moulds them into absurdly fun caricatures who build the worlds the Youth moves through while delivering some powerful vocal moments of their own.
Unfortunately, even with its innovative score and expert performers, the show sags under its lengthy run-time and incompatible attempts at concept. Much like its central character in his naïve search for what is ‘real’, Passing Strange gets lost in its sea of conflicting messages about love and truth, identity and art. Even if the ideas were reconcilable, the quiet moments which should land those blows of pathos are weakened by underdeveloped dialogue which falls jarringly flat, especially when compared to the complexity of the music. The show’s conclusion is especially strange, seeming almost as though two or three different endings were written and somehow all three were left in to quietly argue with one another. It’s a disappointing closing that neither gives pause nor upholds the energy of the rest of the performance.
Passing Strange is absolutely a product of its time, which is not in itself a bad thing. Much like RENT or A Chorus Line, it is a portrait of a moment whose merit endures even as its methods grow dated. Its innovative reimagining of the musical form deserves its place in the canon even if its clunky, unfocused book takes away from its emotional strength. Taken as a concert with a bit of story and some powerhouse performances, it is worth the price of admission. It remains a shame, though, that even the epic vibrancy of Passing Strange’s rock and roll vibe cannot fully carry the weight of its underwritten vision.
At Young Vic until 6 July 2024.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
