St. Louis is a city of transition.
In the summertime, its climate swings wildly between scorching heat and torrential rain. Geographically, it marks the historical border between the eastern and western halves of the United States, a demarcation commemorated by an enormous metal arch in St. Louis’s downtown core. Politically, too, the city is a symbol of ambivalence – St. Louis and its nearby suburbs regularly vote indigo, contrasted against the surrounding state of Missouri, which tends to vote deep cherry red.
But perhaps St. Louis’s most intriguing symbol of transition is a beloved cultural space nestled into Forest Park. Originally called the St. Louis Municipal Opera Theater, the Muny is the oldest, largest outdoor musical theatre in the U.S. Officially founded in 1919, it’s been evolving for more than a century.
The company, which just weeks ago won the coveted Regional Theatre Tony Award for its contributions to the American theatre landscape, is a hot spot for revivals of classic shows – as well as more recent Broadway works ready to enter the next stages of their lifespans. If a new musical gets one of the limited weeklong runs at the 11,000-seat Muny, you can be sure it’ll live a long life on the regional and amateur theatre circuits in the U.S. and beyond.
Theatre Review: Come From Away enjoys a milestone production at the centre of middle America
Just before Canada Day, a musical near and dear to Canada’s heart got its own shot at experiencing what St. Louis locals call “Muny magic”: a fully staged production set against the breathtaking sunsets of Forest Park.
In a city all but defined by its equivocal history, Come From Away at the Muny captured yet another tension: the fractured relationship between the U.S. and Canada, spurred by U.S. President Donald Trump’s continuing trade war and past remarks about annexing the country.
Artistically speaking, Come From Away’s Muny premiere signals a new era for the musical. The Mirvish production of the show, which ran for seven years with a medley of co-producers, just two months ago played its final performance at Toronto’s Royal Alexandra Theatre. Come From Away’s parallel tour, as well, came to a close this spring.
But as June faded into July – at a time when the relationship between the U.S. and Canada was decidedly fraught – Irene Sankoff and David Hein’s musical about kindness, empathy and finding light in dark times played a weeklong run in the outdoor Missouri amphitheatre, a gathering space so large it could have accommodated every single one of the 7,000 or so passengers who were diverted to Newfoundland on Sept. 11, 2001.
The show introduces audiences to a range of characters, most of whom are based on the real people who landed in Newfoundland on Sept. 11, 2001.Theo R. Welling/The Globe and Mail
“I knew I wanted the Muny to do Come From Away the second I saw it in New York,” said Mike Isaacson, the company’s artistic director and executive producer. A Tony Award-winning powerhouse on Broadway, Isaacson’s New York producing credits include Legally Blonde, Fun Home and, most recently, The Last Five Years.
“I don’t normally have that strong and fast a reaction to theatre, but … when you see a musical that so fully understands what it is and works so beautifully, you just know,” he said.
Ultimately, Isaacson programmed the show – one of Come From Away’s first “non-replica” productions, meaning the creative team was free to interpret Sankoff and Hein’s original book more or less as they wished – for its ability to highlight the very best parts of a small community.
Over the course of the 100-minute musical, Come From Away introduces audiences to a range of characters, most of whom are based on the real people who landed in Newfoundland on Sept. 11, 2001, as well as the Gander locals who hosted them. The work covers a surprising amount of ground in a short amount of time – rising anti-Muslim sentiment in the U.S., increased representation for women in the aviation industry and supply chain concerns for the island of Newfoundland are all explored in great depth. In Toronto, on Broadway, on the West End and on tour around the world, reviews have been near-unanimous in their praise of the show’s pacing and emotional scope.
“I’m an originalist when it comes to certain things within the writing,” said director Seth Sklar-Heyn (who also produced the touring production of Les Misérables Trump attended at the Kennedy Center in June). “I want to let the piece unfold and be true to what was originally conceived.”
Indeed, while Sklar-Heyn’s production deviated from director Christopher Ashley’s – the staging that played around the world for seven years – it paid homage to it, too. At the Muny, Ashley’s mismatched wooden chairs were replaced with the kinds of colourful plastic seats you might find at an elementary school, while the turntable centre stage was topped with a massive stair unit, which throughout the show depicted everything from the aisles of an airplane to the crags of Newfoundland’s cliffs.
“I celebrate that we’re not producing a history lesson,” he continued. “It’s supposed to be a piece of theatre. And dare I say, it’s supposed to be entertaining.”
The company of the Muny production of Come From Away. The shows explores the rising anti-Muslim sentiment in the U.S. after 9/11, increased representation for women in the aviation industry and supply chain concerns for the island of Newfoundland.Phillip Hamer/Supplied
Canadian choreographer Jesse Robb – who’s also set to direct the show at Theatre Calgary next year – echoed that sentiment, but affirmed the uncertainty of the fractured world in which the Muny’s production played.
“As a culture, we’re moving away from acceptance and compassion,” he said. “That’s reflective of the fact that the world is once again being challenged.”
“Come From Away is proof that there was a time when people supported each other without question and without expectation,” he continued. “Now, when you look at that border between the U.S. and Canada, the divide is quite palpable. And not just between countries, but between friends and family members.”
In the final week of June, that divide was particularly strident as Trump reneged on trade negotiations with Canada, further straining relations between previously friendly economic partners. A rash of ICE raids and counterprotests across the U.S., too, have driven a wedge between American businesses and the Canadian tourists who, in less uneasy times, might visit them.
Indeed, the geopolitical murk of today is a far cry from the strong bond between countries portrayed in Come From Away.
Theatre Review: Come From Away returns triumphant to Toronto’s Royal Alexandra – a story of resilience, now a symbol of resilience
“Canada acted beautifully and bravely and civically and without a sense of border following the events of 9/11,” says Isaacson. “But I don’t think Come From Away is a political piece.”
Academics on both sides of the border – as well as die-hard fans of the musical – might disagree.
Kaitlin Blanchard, a PhD candidate in environmental humanities in the department of English and cultural studies at McMaster University in Hamilton, is an independent theatre producer and cultural critic with deep insight into the show’s nuanced portrayal of Canada.
Come From Away “has a legacy in Canada that marks it as political whether or not it wants to be,” she said.
“The show is very much written with an American audience in mind, and it’s part of a long history of romanticizing Newfoundland,” she continued. “I don’t think you can say that it’s a musical that can be unpolitical. Nation-states are always in the process of mythologizing themselves – these are stories that don’t cohere unless they’re retold. Come From Away is part of that.”
But in St. Louis, Come From Away’s politics faded into the scenery of the show. Dozens of audience members told The Globe and Mail they knew little about Trump’s recent remarks about Canada – only one mentioned tariffs. A handful brought up Trump’s threats to annex Canada and turn it into a U.S. state – half or so of them said that’s a good idea.
From left: Peter Labeaume, Rod Borowiak, Adam Pickles, Jill Labeaume, Janet Bigley and Denis Bigley gather ahead of the show at the Muny.Theo R. Welling/The Globe and Mail
Anthony Favazza, a St. Louis entrepreneur and restaurateur, is a lifelong Muny attendee – like many locals, he worked there as a high-schooler. He said he was planning to see Come From Away, but was as of yet unsure how the musical might speak to the current relationship between the U.S. and Canada.
“There’s never been much distinction in my mind between Canada and the U.S.,” he said. “It’s not like Spain and France, or two countries neighbouring in Asia with very distinct cultures and identities. I think a lot of the Northern U.S. has a lot in common with the Southern Canadian provinces.”
That said, not everyone at the Muny was so on board with Trump’s remarks.
“I feel terrible about our President,” said patron Jill LaBeaume, picnicking with relatives on the grounds of Forest Park in the lead-up to opening night. The Muny is a summer highlight for her family, she said – they’ve visited the theatre for decades. “You need your own autonomy.”
“He’s going to start World War Three,” agreed fellow patron Rod Borowiak.
Damian and Dee Dee Jones, too, have spent decades at the Muny – two of their children even completed the company’s teen theatre program. A family friend is Canadian, they said, and they can’t stand the thought of Trump following through on his threats.
“We have nothing but love for Canada,” said Damian. “There’s such a rich history to the country – we’ve actually visited and we loved it. I don’t see the 51st state thing as a realistic possibility.”
Show attendees Damian Jones, left, and Dee Dee Jones have spent decades at the Muny and two of their children even completed the company’s teen theatre program.Theo R. Welling/The Globe and Mail
Minutes later, the Muny welcomed audiences to opening night of Come From Away. Thousands filed in. Old friends – made so by being long-time seatmates – said hello as they settled in for the show. Patrons collected paper programs, where despite the frequent appearances of “Gander” and “Newfoundland,” the word “Canada” appeared nowhere in Isaacson’s artistic director notes.
As the Missouri heat fell away with the setting sun, the Muny went quiet, then noisy and cheerful as an offstage band played the American national anthem. A spotlight appeared on a prominent flag next to the stage and didn’t turn off – not even once the show began.
Soon enough, the anthem faded, and the cast started to sing instead about an island on the northeast tip of North America, the cross-section of cultures intensifying as the drumbeat got faster. The actors sang, smiling, maple leaves underfoot and on painted sets behind them.
Meanwhile, the nearby U.S. flag stayed lit, rippling on the breeze, its stars and stripes impossibly, spectacularly bright.
