The Room Where It Happens

hamilton

So, nearly a year exactly (give or take a few days) since I first sat in my office and listened in awe to the Hamilton original Broadway cast album, I found myself sitting a seat in the Richard Rodgers Theater, sipping on a “Dueling Sangria” (I got the white, Mom got the red…) inhaling sharply as Brandon Victor Dixon ran onstage and began to recite Alexander Hamilton’s life story.

A million thoughts crossed my mind.

“Oh God, I’m finally here!”

“I can’t believe I missed the OBC.”

“That doesn’t really matter. You’re here, live in this moment.”

“What if it doesn’t live up to what’s in my head?”

“What if I’ve been hyping this up for a year and my family doesn’t like it?”

By the time Javier Munoz declared that there were “a million things he hadn’t done,” that was long gone. I was entranced. To crib from an early review, “yes, it really is that good.”

I was really excited to see Mandy Gonzales as Angelica. I was lucky enough to see her as Nina in the original cast of In The Heights, and a few years back, when I took my cousin Bobby to see Wicked, she was our Elphaba. She killed as Angelica as well. Honestly, I don’t want to single out any single cast members, the show is so thoroughly an ensemble piece.

I do want to talk about costume design. HOLY SHIT DO I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THE COSTUME DESIGN OF THIS SHOW. I mean, it helps that I was raised by a costume designer, but I love the whites on the ensemble, I love that each character gets their own color scheme, I love that the duels are fought in black cloaks. I love that James Madison is wearing a prototypical Confederate uniform. (The rise of The Confederacy can be linked almost directly to the rivalry personified by Hamilton and the Southern Mother Fuckin’ Democratic Republicans!) It’s all fantastic.

The staging isn’t revolutionary, which is actually preferable. There’s enough revolutionary about this show, the music, the casting, that a straightforward (though still incredible) staging grounds the show in the musical theater tradition, in a bigger way even than the many theatrical references in the libretto do. (Easy call outs, Burr stating that, “You’ve got to be carefully taught,” from South Pacific, Hamilton stating that “nobody needs to know” about his relationship with Maria Reynolds, from The Last 5 Years, the best cheating song ever written, and of course Hamilton calling out “Sit down John,” as a criticism to John Adams.)

I cried, a lot, though not as much or as hard as I thought I might. It’s hard not to get choked up during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” but I also found myself swelling with pride and unable to stop the tears during “One Last Time.” If nothing else this is a deeply patriotic show. Lin-Manuel Miranda clearly loves this country deeply, and it comes across beautifully.

I could keep gushing, (honestly, I could!), but I think Joe’s comment at intermission is the best think that could describe the show, “I just want to stay in my seat and wait for them to do the whole show again.”

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