Victoria
Palace, London
6th
January, 2018, matinee
‘History has its eyes on you’
Has there ever been a more
hotly anticipated new musical? A rhapsodic biography of America’s ‘forgotten’
founding father, Hamilton has whipped
up a hurricane (pardon the pun) of frenzy, speculation, and, nay-sayers would
argue, hyperbole which has swept the world to become a truly global phenomenon.
With the fervour of its fans, the universal critical acclaim, and the
charismatic presence of composer/lyricist/original star, Lin-Manuel Miranda, it’s
fair to say I had pretty big expectations – heightened by having our tickets
rescheduled thanks to the much publicised delay in the Victoria Palace’s
refurbishment (CamMac has done a splendid job by the way, impeccable sightlines
from the gods and swanky new bathroom facilities) – and I’m ecstatic to say
that Hamilton has exceeded these
expectations and more than lived up to the hype.
Hamilton is a watershed moment
not only in musical or theatrical history, but in cultural and social history
on an immeasurable scale. Miranda’s appropriation and recontextualisation of
hip-hop and traditional musical theatre tropes enables him to tell multiple (hi)stories
at once; the fight for a nation’s liberation and independence, while also
holding up a mirror to contemporary America, highlighting the evolutions and
similarities between then and now, such as the reality that the USA was founded
upon immigration, something which remains a political hotbed, fuelled too often
by racial discrimination, yet here represented by a celebration of migrant
cultures as performed by a multiracial cast which represent the true face of
America. For a story of revolution, it seems entirely appropriate for that
story to be told through such a revolutionary form. Hamilton’s struggles – as an
immigrant, as a penniless orphan – are embodied by a language which reacts to and
fights against social and cultural oppressions – the like of which are still
present in today’s society. Therefore, Miranda’s musical is political in its
very being. The fabric of Hamilton –
from the iconic squeaky door riff, the opening and closing of doors which
invite in or push out our protagonists – to the sublime intersection between
the more traditional and quaint melody of ‘Farmer Refuted’ with Hamilton’s
snappy and lyrically robust retorts (‘don’t modulate the key then not debate
with me. Why should a tiny island across the sea regulate the price of tea?’),
we see the language of oppression being undermined by the language of the
oppressed.
Miranda’s affection for the
art form is palpable in acknowledgments to his cultural and literary heritage,
including references to Macbeth,
Gilbert and Sullivan, and Dr Dre. And with Hamilton,
he has cemented his place alongside his predecessors as a spokesperson for our
time and for all time. I have stated elsewhere how Hamilton’s death speech in ‘The
World Was Wide Enough’ is akin to the greatest Shakespearean soliloquies in its
philosophical scope, the pin-point precision with which it skewers the disquietings
of the human subconscious, and the way it plumbs the depths of our emotional capacities,
all while maintaining Alexander’s characteristically endearing/infuriating
aptitude to talk ‘non-stop’ even down to his dying breath. Add to this Andy
Blankenbuehler’s abstract, yet humane choreography and Howard Binkley’s
atmospheric lighting and within two and three-quarter hours of bombastic,
show-stopping moments, this climactic showdown, for me, bears all the hallmarks
of the heart-stopping, jaw-dropping magic which exemplifies just why I love the
theatre.
If I have made Hamilton seem like a one-man-miracle
that is not my intention. From Thomas Kail’s knowing direction, to the
intricacies of Paul Tazewell’s costume design (I love the small alterations to
the outfits as the narrative progresses through history - although Jefferson
remains resplendent in his steadfast purple velvet frockcoat), details such as
these show the amount of care and attention the creative team have put into the
production. Binkley’s lighting is bold, creating and reshaping the lens through
which we view the narrative; spotlights within spotlights mean we can zoom in
on the action and focus in on the nuances of character. Blankenbuehler’s
choreography is more than just modern shaping, it is integral to the
storytelling as the ensemble enact abstract notions of death, life, and
progression while bridging the space between us.
Jamael Westman is instantly
likable, cool, and has just enough youthful naivety to make Hamilton’s more
zealous and verbose aspects come across as charming rather than pompous. A
virtual unknown, Westman has been well and truly thrust into the limelight and,
if his turn here is anything to go by, he can look forward to a bright and
prosperous future. Sifiso Mazibuko’s Aaron Burr is slick, understated and cool
headed, a nice counterpoint to the energetic effusions of Westman’s Hamilton.
Rachelle Ann Go is a sweet Eliza who isn’t afraid to show a harder edge, while
Rachel John brings a cerebral wit and poise to the conflicted Angelica.
However, the show was stolen by Michael Jibson’s gloriously waspish King George
and Jason Pennycooke’s Thomas Jefferson. Pennycooke is spry, louche and
wickedly funny, proving the ideal adversary to Hamilton in the rap-off cum
cabinet battles. Praise also to Pennycooke’s extraordinary ability to wrap his
mouth around some of Miranda’s most challenging word-play; the actor received an
awed reaction following his verse in ‘Washington On Your Side’, which is so
fast and lexically dense that it recalls traditional tongue-twisters with an additional
intellectual clout (go on, try it: ‘I’m in the cabinet, I am complicit in watching
him grabbing at power and kiss it, if Washington isn’t going to listen to
disciplined dissidents this is the difference: this kid is out!’ – and faster…
and faster!).
For me, the sign of a good
show is when, come the final bows, I immediately want to watch the whole thing
again from the beginning. I didn’t want Hamilton
to end, yet at the same time I wanted to go back and replay certain scenes to
marvel once more at the multitude of joys that Miranda and co. have assembled.
I’ve listened to the cast recording numerous times (I wrote my undergraduate
dissertation on the song ‘Alexander Hamilton’) but there are still thrilling
lyrical twists that I’ve yet to discover. This is a production that merits
watching again and again and is sure to reveal new delights with each viewing.
Words have power. And just as
Hamilton himself did, Miranda has used all the power in his lexicon to move
the world – yes, a musical isn’t going to create the same political upheaval as
the forming of a constitutional government - but I guarantee that following
this, the social and cultural orbits that unite within the arts will shift
slightly from their once too predictable axes. So many of Miranda’s songs have
already become standards (‘Burn’, ‘The Room Where It Happens’, ‘Wait For It’,
‘Helpless’, ‘Satisfied’, ‘My Shot’, ‘Dear Theodosia’, ‘You’ll Be Back’, to name
but a few) that it’s difficult to think of a contemporary composer that has had
as great an impact at such a young age. Rich in theme, aesthetic, language, and
context I hope and expect Hamilton to
find its way onto many an English Literature syllabus where it can take its
place amongst the classics of old. In fact, to further the Shakespeare
comparison, while we Brits can claim Richard
III and Henry V etc. then in Hamilton America has found its History
Play and ushers in a new era of creative political commentary.
Hamilton is currently booking until 28 July, 2018.
Cleve September, Jamael Westman, Jason Pennycooke and Tarinn Callender in Hamilton. Photo: Matthew Murphy |
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