REVIEW: Swept Away (Broadway)
I have a hard-and-fast rule that once I publish scores, they don’t change, even if my feelings evolve over time. They’re indicative of my acute thoughts of a piece and serve as a medium of reflection for my taste and interpretation of theatre. This has put me in some occasional hot water in my two years of critic-hood, but I think it’s a policy that helps me set a baseline to grow and understand audiences a bit more. For example: I gave Arena Stage’s Tempestuous Elements a paltry 21/40 earlier this year, but when I saw it again in the presence of former DCPS educators in my family who dealt with the similar themes of Black academic shoehorning, I grew to appreciate it a lot more. But that’s something I have to live with. Typically, what’s done is done…
…unless something makes a significant development in its life cycle. One that necessitates potentially huge changes or new context.
Such as a move to Broadway.
In what was largely an when-not-if situation, Arena’s spectacular Swept Away has finally opened on Broadway just shy of a year from its DC premiere. This was always the goal: its starry cast, credentialed creative team, unmatched marketing, and Grammy-worthy scorers dictated that this was no passion project to float around regional theatres forever*. This was destined for the Rialto. Now, with a handful of tweaks, two+ years of chemistry, and a boatload (not sorry) of capital, Swept is prepared for its primetime debut.
*this is not a bad thing.
Book/Music
I think this will be divisive with audiences.
For starters, it’s a jukebox musical, famously maligned among theatrical elites. (Yet I concede, this did not deter me in my prior review.) Popular folk band The Avett Brothers provide the score, largely but not wholly based on their 2004 album “Mignonette” which covers the shipwreck of the boat of the same name. Therefore you can listen to a lot of the songs now, such as the clap-stomp banger “Ain’t No Man” or the title song. The tweedy acoustics of the band still mesh just as beautifully in New York with this salty gang of sailors as they did here in DC, and with a noticeably improved orchestra to pull it off. The acoustic oomph that a Broadway house provides is something special, and it creates aural umami that is worth savoring in this piece especially. The narrative covers four shipmates — referred to as Mate, Captain, Little Brother, and Big Brother — as they find themselves marooned in a lifeboat following a shipwreck off the coast of New Bedford, Massachusetts in the late 19th century. For the first 40 minutes or so, we’re introduced to the dynamics of a hearty crew: expect joyously choreographed ensemble line dancing, raucous swinging from masts, and other manly activities. All of this being in the context of Little Brother wanting to be a sailor for the life of adventure it provides, to the chortles of Mate and chagrin of Big Brother, who has wound up trapped on the boat trying to get Little off of it. See, Big is a pious farm worker who detests the heathenry of lawless sea life. His spirituality may prove incongruent to the foolhardy group (and to New York audiences, perhaps), but it’s one element that feels kind of novel. That’s basically the tone for the entire piece: a dark fiddling of morality, and often violence, seldom seen in today’s family-friendly era of musicals. This is especially the case in the show’s ravenous second half, an abrupt tone shift at that following the wreck. While this whiplash was present in DC, too, something I noticed this time was that the arrangements of some songs seemed to be mismatched. Think: a deep conversation about how sad life alone as a whaler is immediately followed by a sung, hopeless lament in a…major key? And now Mate is smiling while doing it? It was a very small detail, but it created an inconsistency I did not recall at Arena. Additionally, and this may just be a side effect from my year of seeing several shows a week, but Little felt…unmotivated. He loves his girlfriend, Melody Anne, at the farm a lot. So much so that he sings several songs about it. Why leave in the first place, just for some “adventure”? I don’t think it detracts from the entire song-book package, but it is abundantly clear they need each other to work. 8/10
Acting
First things out the way: a huge congratulations to DMV-native ensemble members Michael Mainwaring and John Sygar for making their Broadway debuts in this production!
Secondly — John Gallagher, Jr. maintains his fearsome presence as Mate, technically the main character. His forlorn selfishness manifests into an evil that frays from his body over the course of the show in an impressively haunting way; even if I’m not quite sure where his accent is supposed to be from. Yet it is the dynamic around him with the Brothers that provide the most narrative fuel, as Big’s Christlike development is brought to surly life with Stark Sands’ soulful voice. Contrasting is Little’s — the terrific Adrian Blake Enscoe — innocence, aptly representing the ignorance of the common person in the face of evil. (His singing ain’t bad, either.) Wayne Duvall is still a magnificently hearty Captain as he was in DC, too, if not a bit sturdier in delivery. 9/10
Production
I took a point from this section last year due to the perceived simplicity of Rachel Hauck’s set: the boat is detailed with lots of splinters and crannies, but the backdrops feel empty. While it does seem to occupy the same space as well, this part doesn’t change. But where the point is made up is via excellent use of special effects, such as rain that falls onto the cast (seemingly a trend nowadays, what’s that, the third show this year?) and blasts of wind into the audience during the climactic storm scene. Which, by the way: still absolutely insane. I won’t spoil just how, but it makes excellent use of David Neumann’s choreography with gradually swaying slow-mo rocks. It almost makes up for the lack of ensemble performances with his work, as the two that do exist in the first half are superb but are only just those two. The set piece transformation is accentuated by striking lighting design from Kevin Adams, too — whose work overall is gorgeously nuanced. (The sailing adage “red sky in morning” being put to use is genius. It’s little elements like that.) Just as excellent are the rapidly-deteriorating costumes by Susan Hilferty that just look like they smell horrible. Michael Mayer’s direction still shines as well from the DC run, particularly in its “think within the box” approach that occurs in the second half. Come for the manly sailors, stay for the mind-blowing technical event. 10/10
Viz
The marketing team for this show went ham; in fact it was the key art by Ken Taylor that clued me in more than a year ago that this was Broadway-bound. Keeping with this screen-printed, wood-carved aesthetic was the obvious choice: it’s sublime. The deep blues, accented with ghastly warm highlights, is a visual feast to look at both on the program and along the sides of the Longacre’s exterior. Even the inside ambience is excellently crafted. Another change from the Arena run is the inclusion of seaside sounds, such as waves and gull cries that squawk periodically as you wait for the show to begin. And when it hits that “five minutes to curtain” mark, there’s even a series of ship bells that clang to remind you as Mate’s restful body planks on a cot center stage. Chef’s kiss. 10/10
Verdict
A year out from its run in DC, Swept Away remains a phenomenal piece of performance art that shakes up notions of a “Broadway” musical. 37/40
