The Slow Burn Theatre Co. earned its reputation long ago for producing outstanding middle-of-the-road, accessible musicals like “Frozen.” But its current triumph with the powerful “Jagged Little Pill” reminds fans that it has been responsible over 15 years for a score of theatrically challenging and moving works.
As director and co-founder Patrick Fitzwater quipped about this run through Sunday, June 28, at Fort Lauderdale’s Broward Center for the Performing Arts: “We’re going back to our roots.”
In this, one of the most consistently excellent South Florida theater seasons in recent years, this company manages a breathtaking, if unlikely, merging of a plot-driven structure with music adapted from Alanis Morissette’s iconic, angst-engorged album.
Emotions thrusting out of actors’ guts transmute into pure music that itself becomes something you can almost reach out and touch. The acting, direction, choreography and visuals roil at the bottom of a volcano, erupt skyward and into the audience. The first-act closer, “Forgiven,” had the opening night audience cheering.
Most of the score is based on the 1995 album that became part of the DNA of most pop-music lovers younger than Boomers, plus a few other numbers added by Morissette and Glen Ballard. But while her confrontational poetic lyrics remain, the music has been arranged and orchestrated to fit in a musical theater genre.
The feel echoes the musical “Next To Normal.” A typical middle-class, white family in suburban Connecticut initially seems like that all-too-familiar paragon. To outsiders, they appear to be perfect, and they struggle to maintain that veneer. But layers quickly peel away, revealing a cache of ills and weaknesses, starting with the growing pill addiction of the mother, Mary Jane.
Her husband, Steve, is a 60-hour-a-week workaholic with a penchant for online porn because the marriage is disintegrating. Their son, Nick, is a seemingly ideal athlete and scholar headed to Harvard. But he has seen something that he shouldn’t and he won’t admit it.
Their adopted Black daughter, Frankie, is straining to discover her sexual and racial identity, but she is finding comfort in her very close relationship with proud lesbian Jo.
Kimberly Doreen Burns gifts one of the finest performances of the season as Mary Jane. (Larry Marano/Courtesy)
Over the evening, a half-dozen issues emerge including sexuality, racial identity, sexual assault, marital discord, counseling, expectations, healing, and above all a variety of relationships. The protagonists wrestle emotionally, verbally and even physically.
Choreographed by Madeline Dunn, one ingenious scene features Mary Jane struggling in a manic pas de deux on, through, and over a sofa with Dunn, who physically embodies her addiction.
High praise is due the Tony-winning script by Diablo Cody (screenwriter of “June”) who has seamlessly integrated a story around Morissette’s songs without it ever seem like she is shoving them into a hole or building something falsely around the inclusion of a pop hit — something a score of mediocre musicals have failed at. This is not a jukebox musical.
Indeed, Cody creates what cannot be classified as a happy ending after such a descent. Yet, akin to “Next To Normal,” she realistically sells a justifiable prospect of hope, with no guarantees.
Although every element, every performance, every piece of staging is masterfully executed, Kimberly Doreen Burns gifts simply one of the finest performances of the season as Mary Jane.
Her soprano can caress a melody or ravage it with a belting blast appropriate for Morissette’s razor lyrics. She doesn’t present a song; she draws it from inside her viscera and acts its essence. She is equally compelling in the dialogue scenes as Mary Jane deteriorates bit by bit.
Madeline Dunn, Kimberly Doreen Burns and Emily Van Vliet Perea in a scene from “Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill: The Musical.” (Larry Marano/Courtesy)
As Jo, Sydney Freihofer creates a memorable character who virtually stops the show (a cliche that is dead-on here) with her solos leading the chorus.
No less deserving is Emma Van Vliet Perea as Bella, who must evolve from withdrawn rape victim to activist. Lauren Chanel is just as worthy as Frankie. All have clarion voices that make you want to go back and see the show again.
Equally deft are Fitzwater’s amazingly smooth staging and Dunn’s deliriously frenzied choreography, such as the liquid mercury depiction of Mary Jane in a drugged daze drifting through chores.
Music director Gio Tio and his seven musicians nail the unique merging of Morissette’s musical style with the required arrangement/orchestration tropes of musical theater.
Kudos are due as well for Ben Sandomir, Isaac Kueber, Manny Tijerina and Mason Materdomini.
More than a nod is due to the visual and aural environment created by Nikolas Serrano’s sets, accented by angular neon tubes merged with Clifford Spulock’s lighting, Dan Donato’s sound and Rick Peña’s costumes — all of it overseen by Timothy S. Dickey and Wilhelm Peters.
Note: A large number of lyrics in Morissette’s poetic fury are discernable, although not all. It might help us Boomers to take the CD out of the library. Still, if you don’t get every word, the emotion comes through.
“Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill: The Musical,” presented by Slow Burn Theatre Co., runs through June 28 at the Amaturo Theater, Broward Center for the Performing Arts, 201 SW Fifth Ave., Fort Lauderdale. Open captioning will be available for the performance at 2 p.m. this Sunday. Get tickets, starting at $49, by calling 954-462-0222 or ordering online at browardcenter.org, or in person at Broward Center’s AutoNation Box Office. For more information, go to slowburntheatre.org.
A version of this review ran in floridatheateronstage.com.