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| The Book of Mormon |
By some miracle, The Book of Mormon remains one of the sharpest satires after opening on Broadway nine years ago. With a profane book by Trey Parker and Matt Stone (South Park) and music by future Frozen composer Robert Lopez, one has to wonder what the secret is for this show, which often pokes fun at religion with vulgarity and offhand irreverence. How can one find the show entertaining years after learning what the punchline is? That's the beauty of this show, whose components are individually so sharp and magnificent that they're more than a joke. They're an exercise in shameless Broadway adoration, finding everyone working to make every second matter. Every joke has just the right level of pause for the laughter to rise from the audience. Even watching Mormons dance across the stage has a delightful quality that recalls the best of the medium, mixing lyrical dexterity with moves that break down dance routines into comical bits that work. This isn't just a satire of religion, but an embrace of musical nerdiness that just so happens to have some of the most jarring rhyme schemes imaginable. What keeps The Book of Mormon fresh? It's the work to make it about more than one joke and make it about the richer subtext of the show.
Coming into the show, it's easy to argue that it's going to be an attack on religion as a concept. After all, the first act ends with the defeated sense that Mormons in Uganda is a bad idea. The missionaries Elder Price (Liam Tobin) and Elder Cunningham (Jonathan Sangster) are in quite a hole, having grown up on the American comfort of pop culture references and theme park attractions. Price is bitter that he's in Uganda instead of Orlando, believing that his mission should have "something incredible" happen. It isn't to help others but to take in the joys of "Sea World, and Disney, and Putt-Putt golfing." By the midway point of Act 1, there is already a doubt of faith met with Northern Ugandan people who haven't been swayed by the many who came before Price and Cunningham. What's going to make them any different? Following "Hasa Diga Ebowai," a song so profane that it denies God and gives the fainter audience members palpitations, it reveals just how tough it will be to have these Mormon teenagers have any impact. They're babies thrown out with the bathwater, forced to deal with the terrible world outside their homes in Salt Lake City.
If one was to look at the broad strokes, they could see how this is an attack. However, it's more of a satire that explores faith in relation to something more realistic. The show builds on the ideas of faith, convincing others to have something that keeps them sane even as they deal with warlords (Corey Jones) and failing health issues. Cunningham is a yutz desperate for acceptance and "imagines" things just to get people to pay attention to him. He literally looks up to Price because of his stature, but also because of his over-confidence. By the end, both men will find their true confidence somewhere in the middle, and it's about understanding the power of ideas to change others. It may construe religion in a way that is at times off-base, but if one looks at it as ideas being used as personal growth, it is actually a rather touching ending, featuring one of the most insane references to The King and I in any show ever.
The show turns to mythology as a way to explore how ridiculous ideas may seem to others, but hold a deeper meaning to those willing to see the good in them. In the Music Man-style huckster selling point song "All American Prophet," Price pays tribute to his religion and the belief that nobody knows what God told prophet Joseph Smith (Ron Bohmer), as it was buried in his backyard. One just has to believe. Thankfully the choreography manages to elevate this moment into a stage show full of goofy sideshow attraction flair and enough infectious melodies to let the ideas linger. Sure, it's funny that nobody believes Smith, but it also creates the divide of religion as a concept. There's humor, but its message of just believing is something that one has to do by the end. What we do with those ideas is more important than whether other people believe it.
Yes, the show is one of the crassest experiences to ever hit Broadway. An average minute is so irreverent that it makes The Producers blush. However, these moments are drawn from characters, pulled from their own comfort and exposed to worlds that they don't understand. It's funny that Cunningham can't get Nabulungi's (Brinie Wallace) name right, choosing to opt for comical choices like Neosporin, because he's already emotionally-stunted, to begin with. Still, there's heart to the other perspective, as Nabulungi sings "Sal-Tlay-Ka-Siti" as this deeply emotional song about escaping poverty for a world of peace. Already she believes that Mormonism will free her from misery. However, there are some of the show's sharpest, most poignant satire in her optimism, where the belief that America is a nicer place is both true and far from accurate. It's a satire that contradicts every other song by being sad, making one wish not only for her happiness but for one for every audience member watching the show.
It also helps that the pageantry is alluring from beginning to end. Moments pop with personality simply by doing one or two things differently from a traditional dance number. In the mission assignment song "Two by Two," the choruses feature upbeat routines of Mormons excited for their mission, dancing with their arms held high in jubilation. When Price fails to get the mission he wants, he fails to join the dance, creating a rift between his elders that will only grow throughout the show. In a later scene, Price invades the warlord's camp and tries to form a peaceful sway while singing "I Believe," (itself recalling swooping chants you'd find in a church) that he refuses to join in on. In these moments, the audience can see character divides while knowingly poking fun at the musical form. It's comedy at its most basic, but it communicates a great deal about how each character relates through song.
The Book of Mormon is no spring chicken anymore, but it's also far from the grumpy old man that its status would suggest. So long as the performers have energy, the show will remain a vital look at how America sees itself. Their ideas may not always take hold, but the quest for deeper understanding is something that secularizes religion and understands faith at a very human level. Some of us need it to get through terrible times. You don't have to be a Mormon to appreciate the nuance that the show brings to these life lessons, but it likely enhances the reverence found in the crude humor. Nothing feels shocking just for the sake of shocking. Some moments hold up better than others, but as a whole, it remains one of the funniest musicals of the 21st century because it can poke holes in religion without outright dismissing it. It's a story about why we need faith to survive, and thankfully it has some catchy songs to back it up.
The show turns to mythology as a way to explore how ridiculous ideas may seem to others, but hold a deeper meaning to those willing to see the good in them. In the Music Man-style huckster selling point song "All American Prophet," Price pays tribute to his religion and the belief that nobody knows what God told prophet Joseph Smith (Ron Bohmer), as it was buried in his backyard. One just has to believe. Thankfully the choreography manages to elevate this moment into a stage show full of goofy sideshow attraction flair and enough infectious melodies to let the ideas linger. Sure, it's funny that nobody believes Smith, but it also creates the divide of religion as a concept. There's humor, but its message of just believing is something that one has to do by the end. What we do with those ideas is more important than whether other people believe it.
Yes, the show is one of the crassest experiences to ever hit Broadway. An average minute is so irreverent that it makes The Producers blush. However, these moments are drawn from characters, pulled from their own comfort and exposed to worlds that they don't understand. It's funny that Cunningham can't get Nabulungi's (Brinie Wallace) name right, choosing to opt for comical choices like Neosporin, because he's already emotionally-stunted, to begin with. Still, there's heart to the other perspective, as Nabulungi sings "Sal-Tlay-Ka-Siti" as this deeply emotional song about escaping poverty for a world of peace. Already she believes that Mormonism will free her from misery. However, there are some of the show's sharpest, most poignant satire in her optimism, where the belief that America is a nicer place is both true and far from accurate. It's a satire that contradicts every other song by being sad, making one wish not only for her happiness but for one for every audience member watching the show.
It also helps that the pageantry is alluring from beginning to end. Moments pop with personality simply by doing one or two things differently from a traditional dance number. In the mission assignment song "Two by Two," the choruses feature upbeat routines of Mormons excited for their mission, dancing with their arms held high in jubilation. When Price fails to get the mission he wants, he fails to join the dance, creating a rift between his elders that will only grow throughout the show. In a later scene, Price invades the warlord's camp and tries to form a peaceful sway while singing "I Believe," (itself recalling swooping chants you'd find in a church) that he refuses to join in on. In these moments, the audience can see character divides while knowingly poking fun at the musical form. It's comedy at its most basic, but it communicates a great deal about how each character relates through song.
The Book of Mormon is no spring chicken anymore, but it's also far from the grumpy old man that its status would suggest. So long as the performers have energy, the show will remain a vital look at how America sees itself. Their ideas may not always take hold, but the quest for deeper understanding is something that secularizes religion and understands faith at a very human level. Some of us need it to get through terrible times. You don't have to be a Mormon to appreciate the nuance that the show brings to these life lessons, but it likely enhances the reverence found in the crude humor. Nothing feels shocking just for the sake of shocking. Some moments hold up better than others, but as a whole, it remains one of the funniest musicals of the 21st century because it can poke holes in religion without outright dismissing it. It's a story about why we need faith to survive, and thankfully it has some catchy songs to back it up.
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