"East Beats West"
Soft Power, a new, self-described “play with a musical”
at the Public (after being premiered at LA’s Center Theatre Group), reminds us that, several
years ago, David Henry Hwang (M.
Butterfly), who wrote its book and music, was stabbed in the neck in Fort
Greene, Brooklyn. The perpetrator, like his motive, remains unknown.
Having
nearly cost Hwang his life, it became the inspiration for this ambitious show,
with a score (and additional lyrics) by Jeanine Tesori (Fun Home), which
satirizes a host of political and social issues in a generally entertaining but
overlong and thematically overstuffed way.
 |
| Conrad Ricamora and company. All photos: Joan Marcus. |
Given the Public’s full production support, with a 22-piece
orchestra (occasionally silhouetted on multiple levels behind an upstage scrim),
the 14-actor show, energetically staged by Leigh Silverman, creates a semi-autobiographical,
metatheatrical reality via the presence of a character called David Henry Hwang
(DHH hereafter).
Like the real person of that name, DHH is America’s foremost
Chinese-American playwright. He’s played by the excellent Francis Jue, who happens,
however, to be nothing like the real DHH in either affect or appearance. What
will become the show’s musical theatre centerpiece is meant to be happening in DHH’s
imagination as he lies bleeding in the street.
 |
| Ensemble of Soft Power. |
Although this is a musical, it doesn’t actually become one until
about 20 minutes in, after the dramatic setup (thus: “a play with musical”). This
involves a Shanghai theatrical producer, Xūe Xíng (Conrad Ricamora), who comes
to New York to hire DHH as the writer for a musical based on a popular Chinese
movie.
The movie tells of a married couple who, though attracted to
other people, decide to stay together, following their duty rather than their
hearts, a Chinese outcome the American DHH rejects. Xūe, representing the Shanghai Municipal Government,
hopes to appropriate for China the art of the Broadway musical, making Shanghai
the theatre capital of Asia, with DHH writing their first show.
 |
| Francis Jue. |
Many issues arise, largely, but not entirely, in the musical
DHH imagines, which becomes an international classic whose revival we’re
watching decades later. They highlight East-West cultural appropriation and
misunderstandings; American versus Chinese conceptions of marriage and family; the
American-born DHH’s confusion regarding his national identity; the secondary
nature of Asian characters in American theatre; Chinese versus American methods
of choosing leaders; the electoral college; democracy; the 2016 election;
Hillary Clinton's loss; the unexpected president whose name is never spoken; gun violence;
the use of “soft power”—cultural achievements (like Catcher in the Rye and
Saturday Night Fever (!)—to gain political capital (making America more
like China than the other way around); and more. There are so many, in fact,
some become little more than boxes on a check-off list.
Much as liberal audiences will appreciate or even laugh at Soft
Power’s anti-Trumpian attitudes, or the skewed view of America as seen from
the outside, the humor falls largely on the heavy-handed side, not unlike an
extended (two hours and 15 minutes, in fact) SNL sketch. Or maybe the idea of Clinton
twerking, for example, to earn votes is more hilarious than I give it credit
for. There’s even a fantasy scene set among musical theatre academics many
years in the future, intended to satirize the notion that China will become the
world’s musical theatre leader.
Happily, the multitalented company of actors—all except for
Louis—of Asian extraction, is thoroughly delightful. Dancing, singing, playing multiple
roles, and even—in two cases—roller skating, they keep the show afloat even
when their material succeeds more because of its enthusiasm and spirit than its
artistic quality.
 |
| Conrad Ricamora, Francis Jue. |
A visit of the DHH and Xūe to a New York revival of The
King and I establishes the idea of how Western musicals about Asian
cultures privileges distorted white perceptions of nonwhite societies, with
non-Asian actors playing Asian characters. Thus, following DHH’s post-election stabbing, we get the alternative reality of an Asian musical about America, in which he
imagines a The King and I scenario in which the “king” and “I” roles are
reversed between Xūe and Hillary.
We see America through Asian eyes, with images
as misguided as those we perpetuate ourselves, showing Americans as pistol-packing, mob-like
thugs, or presenting New York with a Golden Gate Bridge, or imagining McDonald’s as a fancy dining establishment, with roller-skating waiters.
This fun-house mirror, however, quickly clouds over and loses its
impact.
 |
| Alyse Alan Ricamora and company. |
The imaginary musical, which focuses on Xūe, who in the framing story has a white, American
girlfriend, Zoe (Alyse Alan Louis), transfers this affair to a romance with
Hillary Clinton (also played by Louis). It simultaneously enacts a plot about DHH
writing a show based on the same story his nonmusical counterpart has been
asked to concoct. And while the music often suggests pastiches of Broadway standbys
like “Shall We Dance” and “The Rain in Spain,” the most memorable number is a serious
love song, “Happy Enough,” sung by Xūe and Hillary.
 |
| Alyse Alan Louis, Conrad Ricamora. |
Confusing as the plot may sound, it’s usually clear enough in practice as enacted in a variety of cleverly designed sets by the gifted Clint Ramos, including
a jetliner pointing its nose at the audience, supplemented by Bryce Cutler’s
video designs. Anita Yavich’s numerous costumes add plenty of visual wit, and Mark
Barton’s expert lighting makes it all look good. With Sam Pinkleton’s well-executed
choreography adding lots of fun, audiences have plenty to enjoy even when the script
itself leaves something to be desired.
 |
| Alyse Alan Louis, Conrad Ricamora. |
Jue brings a sweet poignancy to DHH’s dilemmas, Louis’s performances as Zoe
and Hillary display her limber dancing and solid singing, although she works a
bit too hard to hit the big notes in her 11 o’clock number, the invigorating, gospel-style
“Democracy.” She also looks great in a Wonder Woman costume. Ricamora is an
appealing and talented leading man as Xūe. Whatever his actual ethnicity,
though, he doesn’t look particularly Chinese, nor have a consistently
believable Chinese accent.
This, by the way, seems ironic given DHH’s complaint about the
casting of non-Asians in Asian roles, including the inauthentic accents they
frequently employ. What, in this racially sensitive arena, exactly constitutes an Asian actor or qualifies a Filipino or a Thai to play a Chinese or Japanese? The same, of course, could be asked of "white" actors and the broad range of ethnicities they get to play.
Soft Power is wonderfully performed, original, and
challenging, but lacks the hard power needed to lift it to the next level.
Public Theater
425 Lafayette St., NYC
Through November 17
