Seeing the world premiere of “Young John Lewis” at Theatrical Outfit feels like being on the precipice of something big; you know that a couple of years down the line, you’ll be bragging that you saw it before it was on Broadway.
The musical, with book and lyrics by Psalmayene 24 and music by Eugene H. Russell IV, has the potential to become the next “Hamilton,” but instead of taking inspiration from hip-hop to make colorblind the racist foundation of America, “Young John Lewis” utilizes the genre to face the realities of race in America head-on.
The storyline follows the early life of the late former Congressman John Lewis, starting with the impetus of his passion for civil rights activism following the murder of Emmett Till. Lewis was only 15 when 14-year-old Till was lynched in Mississippi after being accused of whistling at a white woman, and Till (Terrence J. Smith) stays with Lewis (Michael Bahsil) throughout the show, acting as his internal monologue and conscience.
Till’s murder is one of the most tragic moments in American history, and to see Smith bring him back to life on stage and portray him as having an active, vocal role in the movement, was deeply moving to witness – especially during “My Son,” where Till and his mother (Cece Campbell) are paralleled by Lewis and his mother (Latrice Pace) as she worries for Lewis’ safety.
“Young John Lewis” is filled with emotion as it forces the audience to confront the racism and tragedy of the civil rights movement. White cast members Caleb Clark and Sully Brown, when not portraying background members of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) or, in Brown’s case, Bobby Kennedy, call Lewis and his contemporaries racial slurs during a sit-in. SNCC protestors are brutalized by police, which is portrayed through excellent choreography from director Thomas W. Jones II.
Medgar Evers, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Robert F. Kennedy, and the four victims of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing – Addie Mae Collin, Denise McNair, Carole Rosamond Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley – are all murdered and named before the cast asks the audience: “Who will be next? Will I be next?”
These moments are sobering and difficult to watch, but in the midst of them are Lewis and other members of SNCC celebrating their accomplishments, singing and laughing together, and coping with the tragedy and fear with a relentless commitment to love, all underscoring the point of the show: to inspire viewers to follow in John Lewis’ footsteps.
What makes the show completely unforgettable is the music. Philosophical fractures in the movement are hashed out via rap battle (it’s musical theater rap, though, so it resembles spoken word than contemporary rapping). Lyrics nod to the African American spiritual “Wade in the Water” and Billie Holliday’s 1939 protest song “Strange Fruit.”
The 10-person company sings together through much of the show and it’s incredibly powerful every time, but the true stand-out vocal performances come from Lawrence Flowers as the Reverend Doctor, Brandin Jay as Jim Lawson, and Alexandria Joy as Diane Nash.
The show wasn’t perfect. The costumes looked more business casual than ‘60s appropriate, and the sets and props were little more than tables and chairs (although the unassuming staging acted as a blank canvas for the undeniable talent of the cast to completely fill the room). There was some percussive step-inspired choreography that was a great choice from Jones, but some of the cast members unfortunately struggled to keep up. All of that can be worked out in future iterations of the show.
The one major gripe I have is the treatment of Stokely Carmichael, one of the key leaders of the Black Power movement. He and Lewis are at odds about whether the SNCC should be anti- or pro-capitalist and if they should focus on revolution or reform within the system (with Carmichael arguing for the former and Lewis the latter).
I’m glad this divide in philosophy was portrayed, as it was historically accurate and still a relevant argument happening among protestors and organizers, but Carmichael’s viewpoint was played off somewhat as a joke. Neal Ghant played the character more like comedic relief than an equally important voice in the movement, which was disheartening to see, especially during a recession and in a space with a ticket price ($60 for a standard ticket) that would be deemed a luxury for many working-class people.
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However, Theatrical Outfit is making an effort to make the show accessible by offering 15 $15 seats at each show and “pay what you can” showings every Sunday throughout the show’s run.
“Pay what you can” tickets must be purchased in person one hour prior to curtain. I’m happy to see the theatre prioritize accessibility because everyone deserves to see “Young John Lewis.” The show was a marvel to watch and is sure to have a bright future.
Its run at Theatrical Outfit has already been extended to July 6, with shows every evening Wednesday through Sunday, a matinee on Saturdays, and a special holiday matinee on July 4. There will be even more opportunities to see the show this fall as it tours the state. More details will be announced soon; keep up on Instagram @yjlmusical.
To purchase tickets to “Young John Lewis,” visit theatricaloutfit.org/yjl/.
(Except for the headline, this story has not been edited by PostX News and is published from a syndicated feed.)
