Broadway Should Have Been “Swept Away” For Much Longer by This Ferociously Engaging Dark New Musical – front mezz junkies, Theater News

The Broadway Theatre Review: Swept Away

By Ross

A banjo, and a body, wrapped in bandages lying in a small hospital bed, are what anchor the new musical, Swept Away, formulated from the 2004 album, Mignonette, written by the North Carolinian folk-rockers, the Avett Brothers. It’s exactly the framing needed, as it repeats the framing; “Release us … Release yourself”, hinting about the theme and the twang that inspires. But here, on that spectacular and seaworthy stage of the Longacre Theatre, it’s the ghosts that gather around this poor soul that drive this storytelling piece forward, casting it from the docks and into the wild sea. These sailors, years dead, are what binds this mournful tale to the heart, as they plead for salvation, not just for their souls, but for the man, sick with tuberculosis who lays there dying alone surrounded by those other men, like himself, that have no one and no future to look forward to.

“You should tell them our story,” they sing to him, as there will be no peace until their story has been brought into the light. “Tell the tale, my man.” “Unless takin’ it to hell is your plan.” Purgatory is there in the eyes of these three, bathed in a magnificent separating shaded light, courtesy of some very detailed work by lighting designer Kevin Adams (Broadway’s Funny Girl). They plead for this sick man, our narrator for the night, the unforgiven Mate, portrayed devilishly by John Gallagher, Jr. (Broadway’s Long Day’s Journey…), and his overdue redemption. It’s a strong sailor knot beginning, binding us completely to the disturbing dark tale with emotionally clever lyrics and engaging tones, delivered strong by a stellar band led by music director Will Van Dyke (Broadway’s Pretty Woman). We board this ship, without hesitation, much like the young brother that carries the true beating heart of this dark and stormy musical.

The character referred to as Mate is our guide, and he is filled with devilish formulations, exaggerated a bit excessively in his twang and demeanor, standing a little one-note for most of the show, yet he delivers us onto that ship with a drunken mischievous beaconing that registers. We realize quickly that he is not the soul we are giving our collective heart to. No, sir. It’s the farmboy runaway who we gladly give it to, embodied in the handsome, wide-eyed adventure-seeking Little Brother, who is ever so captivatingly played with passion by the talented Adrian Blake Enscoe (Apple TV+’s “Dickinson“). He is dutifully followed immediately by the righteous and loving Big Brother, courageously portrayed by the engaging Stark Sands (Broadway’s & Juliet), who remains onboard a few moments too long trying to convince his little brother to return with him to their family farm. But Enscoe’s Little Brother won’t have anything to do with that idea. He is seeking freedom from a life on the farm, and at least one frolicking seafaring adventure before he returns to his hard life and his soft-spot love, Melody Anne.

He sings, “Let me live!” to his pleading Big Brother, filling our hearts with his compelling enthusiasm knotted together with love and frustration, but the sharp edge that lives in our knowledge of what will come, and the look in Mate’s eyes, sets our hearts adrift. Envy or pity is the complexity that is roped in together quite tightly as that whaling ship sets out into the ocean on its last big expedition, but not in the way Wayne Duvall’s (Encores’ Big River) gloriously well-rendered Captain thinks or sings about. A storm is approaching, he can see it in the waves, and we can feel it in our land-loving bones, but before this show completely and majestically sweeps us away into the dark waters of regret, we are given a five-day-out moment to entwine our hearts to these appealing sailors, and as choreographed by David Neumann (Broadway’s Hadestown), the men’s heroic energy pulls us in with its stupendous stomping and clapping that interrupts prayer and the Big Brother’s attempt to bring God on board with them.

It’s a powerfully tailored creation fueled intoxicatingly by masculine adrenaline and muscular sensuality, crewed with the most handsome and talented cast on a Broadway stage: Josh Breckenridge, Hunter Brown, Matt DeAngelis, Cameron Johnson, Brandon Kalm, Rico LeBron, Michael J. Mainwaring, Orville Mendoza, Chase Peacock, Tyrone L. Robinson, David Rowen, John Sygar. They are fearless and fantastic, dressed to perfection in costumes designed distinctly by Susan Hilferty (NYCC/Broadway’s Parade) and backed by the impressive sound design of John Shivers (Broadway’s Shucked) with heartstruck guitar, played hypnotically by the wonderful Cameron Johnson (Broadway’s Into the Woods) backing it all up. The tempest below is held off for this moment or two. It’s one of the strongest engagements around, tying us to these lost souls forever, making sure that we become one with them, so when the bad omen seen in the waters rises up, we feel its force with all our hearts and the weight of its destruction.

Directed with clarity and conviction by Michael Mayer (Off-Broadway’s Little Shop of Horrors; Broadway’s Hedwig…), Swept Away sends my soul a-whirling, when the tale of a whaling ship tragedy throws four crew members, including the ship’s Captain, played engagingly by Duvall into the raging waters of the ocean, only to find a certain type of momentary salvation in a small lifeboat adrift, stranded without any supplies for longer than any of us could ever imagine. The adept and powerful new musical, with a sharply defined book by John Logan (Broadway’s Moulin Rouge!), gets its tale a-twirling around that well-crafted stage, designed impressively by Rachel Hauck (Broadway’s Good Night, Oscar), and we are there, hanging on their emotional current, through every song and every story told.

When the tempestuous waves come in brilliant slow motion, and the tragedy that follows below in that clever rotation is a more manly and forceful Life of Pi without the animals and the metaphors. Taking this gruesome survivalist story onto the stage takes a brave and determined eye, and director Mayer manages the framing with subtle clarity and conviction, tackling the life-threatening dilemma with a strongly crafted thematic framing around salvation and redemption. “What do dying men look like?” we are asked by the demonic Mate as his eyes get hungrier and his heart gets harder and more malevolent, much like the harsh sun and its brutal unforgiving force that beats down on the four. Fading away, the question is proposed, the one that makes us all squirm in our seats when death hangs over them like the shattered hull of a broken ship bearing down on them. And before we can turn away too quick, Mate asks us the uncomfortable question. What would you do?

Gallagher Jr. powerfully delivers forth the intensely dark and original question that hangs over our empathetic hearts with a compelling energy and a devilish glint in his eyes. His Mate is not a good man, that is made clear in his unveiling in that lifeboat adrift for far too many days out at sea. He heartlessly admits to having “killed so many damn Indians out in the Oklahoma Territory I couldn’t keep track, so many scalps I had on my belt. Every despicable trade there was came easy to me… So don’t ask who I am. You know.” So it’s no surprise where his mind goes, but what follows is the momentum that lifts this story up and finally lets him find salvation, redemption, and something that resembles freedom. Swept Away reaches out, gloriously, entering our heads and hearts equally and clearly, but it’s the musical numbers that are really the gift to Melody Anne and all of us in the audience, shaping our perspective and delivering us out of the darkness overwhelmed with ideas around love, sacrifice, and brotherhood. It’s a damn shame this new musical is closing far too soon and quickly after just opening weeks ago. It might not be the most warm and fuzzy of holiday musicals (try Broadway’s revival of Elf if you are after that), but in terms of true musical and stage artistry, this is the ticket to jump on board for.