I’m American. Thoroughly American. This is a fact that I’ve never really thought about in the duration of my 22-year life… but that’s probably because everyone else I came into contact with was inherently American as well. Now that I’ve been forced out of my suburban bubble and thrust into a large city, I still encounter other Americans… but not in the same percentages. The more I meet people who aren’t American, the more I realize how American I am, and the more I realize how many other nations despise me just for being so.
But why all this babbling about being American in a theater review?
Because Coram Boy is not.
To be perfectly honest, I sometimes judge shows that I know nothing about by their t itles. To this end, Coram Boy sucks. As an American, I know what a “boy” is… but what the fuck is a “Coram”? Is it a name? Some fancy adjective that I should have learned in school? I don’t know… and what I don’t know, I fear.
On top of that, I find out that the show is English — transferring to Broadway from the National Theater. Although most English theater is good… somewhere in the back of my American mind, I have images of lavishly dressed middle-aged people sitting around in a drawing room sipping tea. This advances my dislike of Coram Boy, before I ever really even know anything about it.
But I had the opportunity to go free… so, why not?
Just upon entering the Imperial Theater and seeing the set, I realized that my pre-concieved tea-drinking notions were utterly incorrect. Even the set was breathtaking, monumental, somewhat strange (all things I associate with America). By the time the show had started, I forgot all about hating-the-show-on-principle, and focused on paying attention.
See, I had to pay attention. The play was confusing at first (possibly because I’m American), what with twentysomething women playing pre-teen boys and all… but that confusion settled after all of five minutes. The first act of the play flew by — intense, gripping, fantastic — with a phenomenal story and equally stunning special effects. By the time the curtain fell for intermission, I wondered “What the hell is left to tell?”
For my money (which, granted, was nothing — but I would have gladly paid for it), the first act was enough story to tell to send me home happy. Instead, with the promise of another chapter in the tale, I grew excited for the second act to begin! The rest of Coram Boy did not disappoint… equally as fascinating while cleverly introducing new characters and plot points.
That’s not even to mention the impressive 40-person cast (including a 20-member on-stage choir).
Fantastic show, superbly acted by British-American Xanthe Elbrick and company… wonderfully directed by British-Superwoman Melly Still. I would go see this show again any day of the week.
It is trully a shame that most other Americans passing through the Theater District probably did what I did — saw the title, got confused, and turned off. Equally depressing is that many probably passed up this show, which was trully inspiring theater, in favor of tripe like Legally Blonde: The Musical.
Fare the well, Coram Boy. Broadway has killed you, and buried you in the woods. Hopefully, the Tonys won’t be so cruel.
