REVIEW: Private Jones (Signature)
“How do you even make a musical about that?”
I took a friend of mine to go see Signature’s latest production, Private Jones, and that’s how he reacted when he learned the premise: a deaf Welsh sniper takes up arms to fight on the Western Front. I’ll admit, it definitely didn’t paint a picture of musicality to me, either; a play would work, maybe, but a musical? Nonetheless, I love a bold piece. I mean, for example, who would want to see a musical about a lesbian cartoonist grappling with her father’s suicide? The creators over at Signature certainly know what they’re doing most of the time, turning unsung pieces into works of art a-la last season’s Passing Strange, but even Jones here didn’t have much hype going for it off the heels of their smash-hit production of Ragtime. Let’s just say: there better be some by the time I get this review published.
Book/Music
In Breconshire, Wales, Gomer Jones is a farmer by trade who learns to shoot away feral dogs at a young age. At the same time, he learns about the value of life (dog or man), framing the general anti-war themes of the piece. The kicker? By the time World War I hits about a decade later, he’s lost his hearing from meningitis. The whole of Brecon’s men have stampeded towards their nearest enlistment center to join the cause, leaving behind Jones due to his disability, but not his passion for the glory of war. Interestingly, the plot could have fast-forwarded to him eventually joining like the premise dictates— he can read lips, after all — but what director-writer-lyricist-composer (!) Marshall Pailet does instead is introduce him to factory work, where he befriends a nurse who sees him as human and teaches him British Sign Language (one of three languages used in the production) where he established comradery among his fellow deaf workmen. Though, he does make it to the army (though hiding his disability), where we’re introduced to his brothers-in-arms, including the sheepish Bailey, hardy Muscles, and the hotheaded and profane King. I think that’s enough plot for this review— to avoid spoiling, I won’t say more. But it’s SUCH a fascinating premise, executed wonderfully, and introduces characters and ideas that don’t overstay their welcome or feel under-baked. Something I particularly liked from its approach was its consistent reminder that not all signing people are necessarily fully deaf, or even born such. So many people are born with fine hearing but lose it to varying degrees over the course of life (see Deaf U on Netflix for more examples!). Depicting hearing loss as a spectrum of ability and framing it as a community overcoming struggle was heartwarming and uplifting. Plus, remember this is a musical! Pailet’s rambunctious rock-pop score evokes emotional qualities akin to something like Come From Away, but feels refreshing and astute. The songs themselves range from jaded traumatic marches to jubliant drinking festivity, and are actually quite catchy, something I feel is missing from many new musicals. Pailet strikes a terrific balance of enjoyable songcraft that is also tightly wound to the spine of the book in a way that I wish I saw more of these days, even on Broadway. If the Powers That Be have any sense, this has the makings to be the next big American musical. 10/10
Acting
Signature has a penchant for quality ensemble pieces, in case you haven’t noticed. There’s a lot of familiar faces here in Jones, which uses a mix of DC favorites as well as New York imports, all wonderfully working together; this chemistry feeds exuberance over the show’s two-and-a-half runtime. Leading the cast is hard-of-hearing actor Johnny Link, recently seen on Netflix and Apple TV, as Private Jones. Grounded as ever, it is impossible not to root for this performance as he evolves from naïve farmboy to war hero, grappling with morality at nearly every step and how his mistakes impact the grander karma of the universe. Yet as great as Link is as our hero, there’s nothing that can compare with the scene-ripping, raucous appearances of Erin Weaver as King, a fellow Welsh (I mean, VERY Welsh) soldier in Jones’ batallion. She is crass, hearty, and over-the-top, but most importantly: utterly dominant. If I had to pick any gripe with this piece, it would probably be that it doesn’t use the superb talents of Leanne Antonio, who plays the nurse, Gwenolyn, enough; the compassion and character connection she forges with Jones is remarkable, and kick-starts the beating heart of the piece (alongside talented deaf actors such as Obie-award winning Dickie Drew Hearts, and a charismatic narrator played by Amelia Hensley). Granted, it’s already written well enough that adding more of that would lengthen the runtime to be out of its sweet-spot, so I’ll live for now. But know you’ll crave more. 10/10
Production
The name of this game is “accessibility”. Signature set out to create a musical literally for and about the deaf/hard-of-hearing community that remains accessible to hearing folk, and it is a total slam dunk. Christopher and Justin Swader’s two-tiered set, effectively illustrating the feeling of being in the trenches, is illuminated with flushes of color and fog streams by Jen Schriever. Set props are minimal — functional, but not eye-catching — and much of the suspension of disbelief stems from the immaculate choreography which Misha Shields incorporates both British AND American Sign Language into (Alexandria Wailes directing those inclusions specifically). Patrick W. Lord’s projected wing subtitles are well-executed, never being distracting for those who don’t need it but helpful for those of us who do; I loved the changes in font size and capitalization that indicated song-vs-caption-vs-literal-dialogue. My favorite tech elements had to be the foley-like sound physical sound cues, that make early appearances as references for non-hearing folk to connect to the words. I’m talking a literal ratchet being wound by a cast member when a gun cocks, the clunk of a bell when a shot hits, and (my favorite) the ruffling of umbrellas to represent birds (!). These live sound effects bring a rugged tactility to the piece that was almost like candy to see it in action; I loved it so much. Big props to sound designer Eric Norris.
Oh, also, there’s a puppet. Milky White would be proud. 10/10
Viz
The audience is greeted by a rugged and strewn trench scene; behind the upper-level band area lies a contrasting blue-orange gradient representing flames of war bleeding into a blue sky. There’s a grainy, serifed projection of the title on the wings, a good indicator of the show’s heavy use of subtitles (the entire thing is annotated as such; a win for accessibility, but a loss for GalaPro shareholders). The program art is a cheeky group photo of several company members, doing various things but ultimately framing Jones in the center. His stoicism hints at how he can willingly not notice his surroundings, which works to both his benefit and detriment in the show itself. It’s a great introduction that tells the audience that it’s about war, but not about war. 10/10
Verdict
Private Jones is a masterpiece in accessible theatre storytelling, anchored by exhilarating performances and an airtight directorial vision that creates one of the best local productions, and potentially American musicals, in years. 40/40
