The Caribbean music of Once On This Island is so exuberant and beautifully acted that it is only at the end you realize what a tragic tale has been told to you, with the overarching content that nothing is bigger than death. Death cannot be eluded, it cannot be made better by affection. When extinction returns for you, that is it.

So director Michael Arden, choreographer Camille A. Brown, and music overseer Chris Fenwick have fairly the job sugaring such a bitter pill in this 90 -minute musical.

They are patently helped by Lynn Ahrens’ notebook and words and Stephen Flaherty’s music–which major on the adoration and idealism of lead character Ti Moune( the magnetic and bright Hailey Kilgore ), as she battles the elements and divinities to reach adoration with Daniel Beauxhomme( Isaac Powell) on an island in the French Antilles.

First play-act on Broadway in 1990, this a classic Romeo and Juliet narrative: Daniel is mixed hasten and from a rich family with its roots in the grey French gentry that had come to the island many years before. Ti Moune is good, black, and an orphan, and she falls in love with Daniel when he has a car crash on her side of small island developing. It is then that, to save his life, she makes a momentous enter into negotiations with Death( or Pape Ge, played by Merle Dandridge) that will relinquishes her own.

For most of the musical, you are utterly enclose and enchanted. The gathering watches the performers in the round, and so Dane Laffrey’s wonderful design( crystallized by Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer’s effective lighting) really does feel like an island, with its flooring of sand, pool of water, upturned ships, and simple corrugated doors, which effectively act as barriers to Ti Moune and Daniel.

Chandeliers descend and a carpet materializes when she goes to the city to find him. There is even a live goat, who amazingly does not freak out with all the music.

Around Ti Moune are Asaka, Mother of the Earth( Alex Newell, who sings the fabulously life-giving” Mama Will Provide “), Agwe, God of Water( Quentin Earl Darrington ), Erzulie, Goddess of Love( Lea Salonga ), and the fearsome Dandridge. It is the latter who covets Ti Moune’s flavor most; Dandridge scarily prowls and seethes around the young woman.

There is no notion why Ti Moune has been singled out in this direction. She herself in an orphan saved from a tornado, and the story itself situates the entirety of its calamity on her.

There is a pronounced back narrative embracing race and class; the Beauxhomme family appear like archetypal imperialists, whose lily-white ancestors had copulation with slaves on the island.

Beauxhomme, the biracial son of one such ancestor, Armand, dispelled Armand back to France; Armand then cursed him and the future generations of Beauxhommes, and their relationships with the boors. This complicated history is played out by digits behind an illuminated shroud.

Oh, the singing. Kilgore’s voice is pure and resonant, Philip Boykin and Kenita R. Miller, as Ti Moune’s adoptive parents, who annoy for her security, sing beautifully very, their cheerfulnes and affection for Ti Moune experience as an all-encompassing musical blanket by the audience more. Salonga is the perfect” good sorceres” of Love counterpart to Dandridge’s malevolence.

If the music is wonderful–truly, every song–and future directions brimming with living and clevernes, what jars in Formerly On This Island is the narrative. Race, racism and colonialism are examined in the musical but glancingly, and then there is–as in Miss Saigon — the simple-minded and strange actuality that the lead male reputation is a reward shit. He is not the man for Ti Moune; you don’t want them to end up together.

Daniel is happy to have Ti Moune around as a sexy nurse after the car-crash; then for her to dancing for him, but lies to her that he is in fact committed to another. The heartbreak of their break-up is endured by her only, and the last minutes of the floor are plain heartbreaking and horrendous, with the resolution–spoiler alarm, that, for all her tenderness, in fatality Ti Moune becomes a blood tree , or the hugging spirit of added tree and hey, we all should hug the capability of legends — supposed to obligate us feel right. It doesn’t.

It’s a terrible pointing , not because it isn’t glad, but because it ill-serves the rising music that has been going on it. Daniel doesn’t resist any of the social troops against his woo with Ti Moune, he goes together with them.

Ti Moune deserves better than to succumb and become a symbolic article of lumber. And it’s hardly original that a piece of myth tells us about the dominance of legends to provide psychological sustenance.

It is odd to contact the end of a musical that wants us to effectively clap the maintenance of classism, racism, and female subjugation, and likewise leave us cheerily going out into the night. But that’s the strange psychological region Formerly On This Island leaves us, formerly its beautifully reverberating tornado has abated.

Once On This Island is at Circle in the Square Theatre, 235 W 50 th St ., NYC. Book tickets here .

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