Matt Rodin and Jeb Brown in Beau: The Musical. Photo: Valerie Terranova
The weekend before I saw Beau: The Musical (playing at St. Luke’s Theatre through December 7), I found myself talking with a musician who, after an acrimonious divorce, found himself estranged from his daughter. Though he continued to try to repair the relationship, he hadn’t been able to overcome what he described as the poison his ex had been pouring into the child’s ears. He’d found solace in the parental alienation community, an entire subculture of which I was previously unaware .
That conversation was top of mind when I was watching Beau, a somewhat entertaining but not particularly interesting exploration of the difficulties (including parental alienation) of coming out. Ostensibly set on the stage of a Nashville bar, the story is told in flashbacks by Ace (the charismatic Matt Rodin does double duty as performer and musician, as does the rest of the cast). Twelve-year-old Ace is surprised when bully Ferris (Max Sangerman) kisses him, kicking off a three-year covert relationship. Unable to talk to his single mom, Raven (Amelia Cormac), he reaches out to her estranged father, Beau (Jeb Brown). As Beau and Ace grow close, more flashbacks reveal why there is a chasm between this amiable grandfather and his daughter. Spoiler alert: Beau is gay. Beau’s love helps Ace overcome society’s hatred and teaches him to love himself.
The musical is at its strongest when it focuses on Ace’s relationships with Beau, Ferris, and, to an extent, his mother’s boyfriend, Larry (Ryan Halsaver). Writer Douglas Lyons (and Ethan D. Pakchar, who co-wrote the music) draw complex and textured characters and let them play out their differences over the course of the piece. But the piece fails to give its female characters similar depth. Ace’s mother, Raven, is less dimensional, and his scenes with her feel repetitive. His best friend, Daphney (Miyuki Miyagi), is little more than a sounding board.
More of a problem is that, for the most part, the musical feels emotionally flat. With the notable exception of a powerful coming-out scene, the music, lyrics, and book never rise to the occasion. This might be due in part to the book’s distracting flashback structure, which robs the story of immediacy. I get that it’s difficult to cast a show with thirteen-year-olds, but a coming-of-age story loses something when the kids’ roles are played by adults.
The structure is also confusing: Why are other characters having flashbacks inside Ace’s flashbacks? Since they are remembering things Ace has no knowledge of, how is he telling us this part of the story? At one very disorienting point inside Ace’s frame story, Raven has a flashback about her father and, within that flashback, Beau has a flashback to a moment Raven knows nothing about. Worse, the show pulls its punches when it comes to Beau and Raven’s relationship, setting up a powerful conflict but not playing it out, effectively letting the characters off the hook. Even the show’s pivotal scene feels hollow when Beau doesn’t actually come out to Ace.
There are bright spots throughout. The set and terrific lighting, by Daniel Allen and Japhy Weideman respectively, blend in seamlessly with the physical space, creating a very believable stage where director Josh Rhodes composes some striking stage pictures and keeps the show moving at a crisp pace. Despite the book’s structural problems, the dialogue is light and often funny. And the always-onstage cast/musicians maintained their energy throughout—no mean feat! Matt Rodin, as Ace, delivers a strong performance both when singing and speaking. Jeb Brown’s Beau is convincingly prickly. Max Sangerman and Ryan Halsaver are fun to watch, too. I also enjoyed Miyuki Miyagi’s fiddling.
Beau, like last month’s Saturday Church at NYTW, combines coming out and coming of age in musical form. The latter show was able to overcome storytelling weaknesses with terrific music and lyrics, powerhouse performances, dazzling dancers, and incredible design elements. Beau’s upsides don’t manage to elevate the show in the same way. I was underwhelmed, but someone with a more direct connection to the material might get more out of the evening.