Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

Here’s a review secret – I don’t love musicals. I grew up immersed in the old-school classics that my mother watched, they hold a special place in the nostalgia corner of my heart. But the tendency to convert everything that moves into a musical – Disney, children’s books, movies – has left me skeptical of the genre. Why sing something that can just be said? This is recurring theme in my reviews.

I like them, but never loved them. To me they were a gateway cultural experience that lured people to plays, but the pivot from musical to live plays is a rusty mechanism at best. It drives me crazy when people say “I love plays” and they mean they saw CATS and Les Mis. Nine years ago. They are different types of live theater. I’m a big fan of pushing yourself out of your comfort zone when it comes to tthe arts.

To be fair, I likely experience hyperstimulation in live music settings – sensory overload. So beyond just a personal preference, it is connected to my disability. I wonder if the opposite is true – do some people need the layers of stimulation of speaking, singing, dancing, etc to absorb the story? I asked E about this and he said “probably.” I’m sure it impacts my review.

All week I kept thinking a musical about September 11 seemed like a bad idea. I got the name confused, humming ‘Come What May’ from Moulin Rouge, and generally wondered how a subplot of two mothers of firefighters bonding was going to play out.

So Friday night, I went to the Benedum with my nephew E, 13, and his mother, Sarah to see ‘Come From Away’ and everything I thought about musicals changed. I walked back out a new blogger and a humbled human being. There are still some awful musicals, but some knock it out of the park. I am glad I get to review this one.

The premise is based in reality – in the Newfoundland town of Gander during the week following the September 11 attacks, when 38 commercial and 4 military planes, carrying approximately 7,000 passengers, were ordered to land unexpectedly at Gander International Airport. The airport had previously been a refueling hub so we presume had the best capacity for this number of planes.The response of the town to this influx and the larger traumas of September 11 offered a cathartic glimpse to a defining moment in my own life.

Suddenly a stage filled with these assorted people were stomping and singing and doing ordinary things. This impact of the ensemble was immediate. It was choreographed chaos, as the cast brought us into the lives of town residents. For those few minutes of the opening number, it was before times.

Gone was my skepticism over sketchy sets as the actors whirled and twirled and used body movement while moving chairs in a stage full of whirling dervishes – a cafe, a school, multiple planes, a bar, living rooms, even representing reluctant ‘theft’ of grills from backyards for a group cookout. I tried to imagine how they marked the stage for all this movement, this dance of bodies and feet and chairs and other props. It was very impressive choreography (Kelly Devine) and execution.

These 7000 people landed into a community of kindness and support during a terrible experience. It wasn’t a silver lining of a horrifying terror experience. It was a manifestation of the kindness that also existed. Both things can be true.

This was truly an ensemble piece filled with collaborative performances that reflected the unfolding events as the notes and voices intertwined. One couple found love, another questioned their priorities, interfaith folx created a kosher kitchen for the few Jews, Muslims, Hindi, and vegetarians.

Another significant storyline involving food focused on an Egyptian man, Ali, (Ryaann Farhadi) who kept to himself albeit repeatedly offering to help with the food. The other passengers were suddenly unsure of this man who just hours before had simply been another passenger. It turned out that Ali was an executive chef for a corporate chain and thus very well suited to cook good food in large quantities. Food created a bond.

One particularly profound solo was the American Airlines captain Beverley Bass (Kaitlyn Jackson.) She navigated her duty to the passengers with her own unique perspective as a pilot whole relationships to places was turned upside down – her solo ‘The Sky and Me’ was magnificent. It created a significant link with the reprise of ’38 Planes’ as Beverley excitedly narrated the journey of her flight to Dallas by identifying significant milestones – they crossed the US Border, the flew into Texas air – the sort of announcements many of us take for granted when we fly.

As we left, E and Sarah and I discussed September 11. Sarah and I both had vivid memorizes – as you do of significant terrible moments. E understood what happened, but he was born in 2011. That’s after the the terror attack and after the reunion of the plane people with the residents of Dander. E’s entire life has been shaped by two decades of terror. He never boarded an airplane without a security check, nor could he walk a family member to their gate. And his school days have been shaped by mass shooter drills.

When I asked E what resonated with him from the musical, he surprised me by saying that Ali’s storyline hit home. He had never thought of how that fear and hate would manifest so quickly. I asked if he knew any Muslims or people of Middle Eastern heritage. He said a few at school, but he wasn’t close with them. He said that it seemed odd that he didn’t have anyone Muslim or Middle Eastern in his very intersectional circle.

I asked how he had learned about September 11. His school had micro lessons every year near the anniversary. I asked if they had a Muslim or person of Middle Eastern descent participate, he said no. I think he’s curious now and that’s a very good outcome for any cultural engagement. And an important note for this review.

In spite of the sweet redemptive kitchen story, Ali and Beverley share a humiliating experience that reminds us of the somber threads amidst the jubilation of returning home. The world has changed even in this small scene.

When this show comes your way, make sure you go see it. I will see it when it returns to Pittsburgh. I bought the soundtrack already.

This wraps up the Broadway series for 2024/2025. Next year has some great shows.

So has my preconceptions about The Great Gatsby and Beauty and the Beast changed given this revelatory experience? Maybe. Beyond just being a great show, this performance was special because I was able to bring all of our review team to the performance – usually we have to divvy it up. And yes my 13 year old nephew is a reviewer. That milieu of our perspectives – Gen X, Xennial, and Alpha Gen – lends itself to great conversations as we float along to the parking lot and drive home, conversations that spill into text threads and phone calls. It is the place where the magic happens.

It is an ensemble piece.