A decade has passed since Here Lies Love, David Byrne and Fatboy Slim’s audaciously brilliant pop opera about the rise, over-the-top excess and fall of Philippines leader Imelda Marcus, debuted at Off Broadway’s Public Theater in an immersive production from director Alex Timbers that placed most of the audience standing on the disco dance floor of a black-box venue, shifted around as elevated platforms were wheeled around the space for the cast to perform.
Amazingly, Timbers and his design team have now re-created the experience in the cavernous Broadway Theatre, home to such plus-size productions as Les Misérables, King Kong and Miss Saigon. The entire orchestra section — as well as much of the stage area, where a helicopter once whisked a U.S. Marine away from his Vietnamese lover, Kim — has been converted into a flat dance floor, with side runways, a shallow stage area and wheeled platforms that are shifted throughout the performance by jumpsuited handlers. The team (led by set designer David Korins) has also created balcony seating along the sides, and restaged much of the action to include the (also seated) mezzanine and balcony sections. (Indeed, the mezzanine section arguably offers the best views of the entire scope of the 90-minute show.)
The disco-dance-floor staging may seem like a gimmick, but it suits a story set in a country that introduced karaoke to the world in the 1970s and whose insanely infectious score is a savvy dance-friendly mix of syncopated rhythms and funky backbeats. It’s perfect for the occasional line dance that all ticket holders are encouraged to join.
The format also gives the storytelling a propulsive narrative energy that would be hard to replicate in a traditional proscenium staging — even if the material itself would hold up with a more standard approach. Credit Justin Townsend’s lighting, M.L. Dogg’s sound and Peter Nigrini’s projections — using screens that wrap all the way up to the top of the balcony to keep the entire audience in the loop about the narrative timeline.
Timbers and Byrne, who developed the project, have packed a lot of story into this show — starting in 1945 when a young Imelda (Arielle Jacobs) is a “simple country girl with a dream” of throwing off her hand-me-down frocks for a more fabulous life that she will eventually find as first lady to Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos (Jose Llana). But the rural beauty queen first romances an aspiring politician named Ninoy Aquino (Conrad Ricamora), who dumps her because she’s taller than him and later becomes the most outspoken critic of the Marcos regime’s corrupt rule, a provocation that leads to his imprisonment, exile and eventual assassination.
That’s heavy stuff for a Broadway musical, and even telling the story through Imelda’s perspective does little to soften a tale about a figure marked by greed, vociferous desire for fame and callous disregard for those who helped her along the way (like a childhood friend, hauntingly played as a behind-the-barricades outsider by Melody Butiu). Still, Byrne’s lyrics add shades of nuance, revealing human-size insecurities that add complexity to a story of naked and increasingly tyrannical ambition.
The project began as a 2010 concept album boasting an impressive roster of talent, including Cyndi Lauper, Florence Welch, Tori Amos and Sia. The Broadway cast matches those vocal powerhouses, and even brings in a ringer in the form of Lea Salonga (the original Kim in Miss Saigon), who delivers a powerful eulogy for her slain son, Ninoy Aquino, in the form of a plaintive ballad turned cri-de-coeur called “Just Ask the Flowers.”
The vocal standout is Arielle Jacobs, who shows off her impressive pipes and spunky energy while dragging us along Imelda’s complicated journey. And that journey entails both multiple costume changes (designed by Clint Ramos) and some energetic dance moves (choreography by Annie-B Parson) that accentuate the storytelling.
At its heart, Here Lies Love is a story that blends politics and personality, history and ideas, in ways that feel of the moment. Toward the end, after the Marcoses flee the country as the opposition rebels against the declaration of martial law, a DJ who has served as our quasi-narrator (Moses Villarama) informs us that Ferdinand and Imelda’s son, Bongbong Marcos, was sworn in last year as president of the Philippines.
Americans know all too well how fragile a democracy can be, how a strong leader can tip toward totalitarian extremes. Here Lies Love has a timely message for us, but it brilliantly takes advantage of its catchy tunes, Byrne’s sharp lyrics and a dance-forward presentation to present weighty themes in a way that never feels heavy-handed. “Democracies are only as strong as the people,” the DJ notes, and this show suggests the best defense may be to get out of our seats and onto the floor. What is dancing, after all, but a collective act of mobilization for a common cause?
Culture Sauce 