When I saw that the New York Times‘ chief theatre critic, Ben Brantley, had declared the original Broadway production of The Book of Mormon, “The best musical of this century,” I first thought he was being snarky. He wasn’t. He meant it. And he’s right.
Now on its North American tour, The Book of Mormon (showing through January 20 at the Paramount Theatre) is profane, sweet, funny, touching, smart, and the best musical I have ever seen.
Written by the creators of South Park (Trey Parker and Matt Stone, along with Robert Lopez from Avenue Q), The Book of Mormon takes us on the journey of two young LDS missionaries who are assigned to bring the inhabitants of a Ugandan district to the church. The show deftly and improbably blends the trademark South Park-ian “I can’t believe they just went there” sensibility with elements of a traditional 1940s musical – with a straightforward review of Mormon theology and culture (with debatable levels of accuracy). How they did this is a testament to Stone’s and Parker’s brilliance. No one else could do this so ridiculously well.
The songs are just as much the stars of the show as the actors. With each new number, I thought, “This one has to be the best one of the show,” and then there would be another one just as good. Starting with “Hello,” we meet Elder Price (a pitch-perfect Mark Evans), a shiny young LDS warrior. He is paired on his Ugandan mission with LDS slacker Elder Cunningham (Christopher John O’Neill), who is the Jonah Hill to his Tagg Romney.
The performances and dancing in this show were uniformly excellent, with the exception of O’Neill who seemed to be just a bit outclassed — vocally and otherwise — by the rest of the cast. Everyone else is so good, and the show is so entertaining, that it didn’t really matter.
The heart of the show is NabuluNgi (a stunning Samantha Marie Ware) the Ugandan daughter of the village chief. In “Sal Tlay Ka Siti” (say it), she embellishes the paradise described by the missionaries — this magical city of waterfalls and unicorns with “a Red Cross on every corner with all the flour you can eat,” and where “flies don’t bite your eyes, and human life has worth.” Like most of the songs in the show, it’s smart, satirical, with a touch of sweetness and innocence. Ware kills it with a belty voice full of emotion that can dissolve into a pure whisper that rips your heart out.
Other stand-out numbers include “Spooky Mormon Hell Dream” (where Elder Price encounters superbaddies Genghis Kahn, Hitler, serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer, and Johnnie Cochran); “Turn It Off” (the big song-and-dance tap number about the virtues of urge suppression); and “I Am Africa” (the anthem of the LDS missionaries who in their hearts are now “the tears of Nelson Mandela…and the lost boys of Sudan”).
Much has been written about the fact that Mormons are flocking to see the show. If they can get past the blasphemy and the language, I think they find a satirical but remarkably evenhanded portrayal of their religious culture. Interestingly, the program for the play includes several ads placed by the church (“You’ve seen the play…now read the book.” For reals.
You’ll be humming songs about dysentery and giving God the finger days after you leave the Paramount if you’re one of the lucky people to get a ticket to this currently sold-out show. Sorry for the gushing, but I can’t say enough about this production. I loved it. It was much better than Cats. I want to see it again and again.