Displaying items by tag: Jahmaul Bakare

So, I went into Once on This Island, currently playing at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, knowing nothing of the show at all. Nothing. The above title, I took that from one of the songs that’s still stuck in my head — “Some Girls,” sung beautifully in this production by Tyler Hardwick’s Daniel.

But it’s the sentiment of that song, that some girls (or some things, like Broadway musicals, perhaps) are extraordinary, special, better than the status quo. As this production began, I wouldn’t have guess that it would take its place in the really good shows I’ve seen, or the really good ones I’ve had the privilege to review. But you know what? By the end of the show, it had.

You see (and my 16-year-old daughter, a theater geek in her own right, agreed with me as soon as the houselights went on), this show’s a grower. Before it began, the set held promise — audience members seated on either side of the stage itself, various sand and detritus hinting at the Caribbean island setting to come, what seemed to be cast members milling about.

But, just as 2018’s Auditorium Theatre touring production of The Color Purple found a stripped-down production overwhelmed by a cavernous locale, this production at first seemed to be swallowed up by the size of the Cadillac. The set was spread out over the stage, sure, but the sound was muddled and devoured by the site. This problem seemed to get better as the show went on — I’m not sure if my ears just adjusted or if the cast did the adjusting.

Or maybe it’s that, as I said, the show’s a grower. Because the cast and the songs they sang seemed to get better as it went on. A show that had my daughter’s head nodding to stay awake at first later found it nodding along to the story and the tunes. This being a one-act performance, the lack of an intermission worked wonders, not allowing the booze-and-bathroom break to kill the slow-building momentum. And build it did.

The story’s your standard girl-meets-boy-but-stuff-gets-in-the-way sort of plot that Disney’s mined for decades. And this story would totally fit into the Disney Princess pantheon if Disney’s ever looking to head to the Caribbean for anything other than Johnny Depp in a pirate getup. Told as the story (to a young cast member and the audience members seated on the stage’s edges) of an orphaned and impoverished island girl (Ti Moune played by Courtnee Carter) who falls in love with a rich boy (the afore-mentioned Daniel, played by the talented Hardwick), the best parts go to the supernatural characters who populate the fairy tale.

Kyle Ramar Freeman lords over the stage whenever he’s on it as Asaka, Mother of the Earth. Jahmaul Bakare isn’t far behind with his water god. Just as the land of Oz’s Glinda is overshadowed by the cool costumes and witchcraft of her more wicked counterparts, Cassondra James’ love goddess Erzulie isn’t as much fun as the other deities, though James’ voice and presence make up for what her character lacks. But throughout the show, I was enchanted by the fourth god, Papa Ge, the demon of death. The actress who played Papa Ge was done up all ratty and punk-rock, but her physicality and beauty and presence were evident, not to mention her musical chops. Only afterward did I look in the playbill and learn that this Papa Ge’s played by Tamyra Gray, my all-time favorite television singing competition entrant (she was on the very first season of American Idol, back when Kelly Clarkson won, back before my teenage date for this show was even born). Needless to say, even if she’s playing a hellish harvester of souls, Tamyra’s still got my heart!

And, it seemed, by the end of the show, the cast and the story they told and the songs that they sang had won over the hearts of the audience, too. The songs had gotten better, the sound had settled down, and the actors and singers had warmed up and settled in, giving the Cadillac Palace’s audience a good time, which I’m sure they’ll keep on doing in this production Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty’s Once on This Island, playing now through February 2.