Chronic Negress

The musical based on Green Day’s American Idiot is in previews at the St. James Theater in New York. The Negress just happened to be in New York and scored a half-price ticket to see it. It’s a good sign that I am still thinking about what I saw and finding new layers with each passing thought. I am not sure this version of the show is locked — that is, done with cuts and re-jiggering — but I am betting it’s close (opening night is April 20). I am also happy to see a pair of my favorite young stage performers, Michael Esper and Rebecca Naomi Jones, in prominent roles in the production. What struck me about “American Idiot” is that captures so many of the contradictory impulses at the core of immaturity — hating everything about what came before you, being convinced that everyone else you know is living a cooler life than you, and finding really dumb ways to explore all of that. The show really rocks, unlike “Rent,” which was a grand thing but more in the show tune tradition than a lot of people gave its composer credit for. The staging is witty and owes more than it may want to admit to U2′s “Zoo TV” tour.  The movement is frantic and passionate without being too slick. It captures the frustration and anger familiar to anyone who has ever looked for a way out. All of our ways out are in us all along. It just takes sometime to find them.

Also, what I loved about “American Idiot” was its recognition that all of this anomie was not confined to white punks. Two of the three leads are paired romantically with women of color.  These are not Lou Reed’s “colored girls” thank Buddah, providing decorative support. The cast is mixed without a sense of self-congratulation. The Negress was a suburban middle class kid who found an outlet for so many of her longings in crazy, angry rock ‘n’ roll (also some twee, arty stuff to be sure). The plush sexuality of R&B and soul was not mine at the time. The show recognized that and felt great.

There are a few stumbles. A flying dream ballet between Tunny and his nurse lover (she’s dressed in a harem ensemble)  while he recovers in Iraq was pretty odd. It’s worth noting the last successful dream ballet was in “Oklahoma.” There’s a reason for that. Having druggy dreams comes with recovery. The Negress has some experience in this. But making those dreams concrete doesn’t always play out the way you want.

Also, the show runs an hour and 45 minutes without intermission. I suspect they could lose 10 or 15 minutes without ruining the  cacaphonous flow of the proceedings. If you saw the performance of “21 Guns” on the Grammys, don’t hate on the show because of that. That was a disembodied event without context. “American Idiot” is better than that.

Interesting aside:  “American Idiot” began at Berkeley Rep, as did Stew’s “Passing Strange (the Negress always thought she was the Negro Problem until she heard Stew’s band of that name).” Jones was in both productions. The woman knows how to pick ‘em. Spike Lee filmed “Strange” and it’s an excellent companion piece to “Idiot” for a sepia-colored take on anomie. I saw it three times when it was on Broadway.

Of course, I bought wine while I was here. As long as the Negress lives in Maryland, she will buy wine in New Jersey. Many thanks to my wine blogging pal 1winedude for turning me on to the 2008 Bastianich Vespa Bianco, an Italian white from Friuli. I’ll crack that when I get home and share the results.