The newly reopened Globe Theatre of Regina’s first season in its new space is coming to a close with a bang — or, rather, a yell. Bring It On: The Musical, directed by artistic director Jennifer Brewin, overall offers a lot of fun (and plenty of flying) to audience members ready to take a friendly jaunt through the halls of two American high schools.
Bring It On, loosely based on the 2000 movie of the same name, is a cheerleading story pasted over a classic “which side of the tracks?” narrative in which race and class dictate a young person’s school or neighborhood (and define their high-school identity) — with a side order of love story. While the musical suffers a little from too many cooks in the score (three people in the musical mix is a lot of people, and the score makes some pretty wild swings), I am nevertheless fond of it because it does something both important and pleasing: it lets the Black and brown students of disadvantaged Jackson High — the school with fewer resources and more grit, compared to preppy, white Truman — be complicated. It gives them the best songs. It gives them resistance. Brewin’s production clearly recognizes this welcome subversion, and leans in.
Staging Bring It On in a Prairie theatre notches several difficulty points: most of the cast have to be acrobats (who can also sing), and productions are typically staged with a cast that’s about half made up of actors of colour — a heavy lift in a part of the country with less than half the racial diversity of Canada as a whole. Add that to the excitement of staging it in the round (Globe Theatre has a permanent arena configuration), and the overall scores, while not 10s across the board, are certainly knocking on the door into championship territory. This production has made wise choices in several of its cast, especially Danielle, the leader of Truman High’s dance crew (standout Chariz Faulmino who brings a lot of voice and a lot of heart to the role), and Bridget (a very charming Sarah Dowling), the awkward second (fifth?) fiddle at Truman whose wholly unbothered authenticity is a problem among the preppy kids but a boon at Jackson. Between their feelings-forward performances and musical leadership, Faulmino and Dowling function as a strong base.
Unfortunately, Berkeley Silverman as Campbell (our newly elected Truman cheer captain, eventually forced to hand over her pompoms and attend Jackson) never quite takes off. She’s competent, but just not as exciting as Faulmino or Dowling, and it’s a little hard to imagine her as the one scheming Eva (an appropriately terrifying Alyssa Jane Crockett) wants so badly to emulate, or who Randall (Josh Calabio) is so ready to forgive. That said, Silverman manages choreographer Julio Fuentes’ rigorous footwork and a demanding score at the same time — so, overall, competent is still pretty good.
Also notable on the dance side of things is Ryan Maschke, who’s both the assistant choreographer and an ensemble member dancing for both Truman and Jackson — in two different genders. It’s one of the best “necessity is the birth-parent of invention” castings I’ve ever seen, made possible only by Maschke’s skills. For Truman High, they’re a clean-cut All-American boy, making manly shapes in a muscle shirt and joggers; for Jackson, they transform into a femme fatale with hair and hips, if not heels. It’s a triumph, and mesmerizing to watch.
Rounding out the lightly addressed queer undertone of Jeff Whitty’s script is Nestor Lozano Jr. as La Cienega, the trans girl who (along with Ha’Keena Maneso as Nautica) completes the trio of Truman’s dance crew. Lozano (who was a splendid Angel in the Stratford Festival’s 2023 Rent) plays the role with such teenage-dream confidence that I’m not sure how many in the audience understood La Cienega’s gender history (which I definitely mean as a compliment) — many trans characters in contemporary theatre are La Cage aux Folles style muscle-boys in frocks having existential crises, but Lozano’s portrayal hits all the figurative notes, even if the score doesn’t give them many literal, solo notes with which to display their considerable vocal prowess.
Brewin’s in-the-round staging works well, helped by Kaitlin Hickey’s clever set design, which keeps our focus on the action as the ensemble maneuvers beds, benches, tables, and chairs to move us smoothly between locations. There can never be much on stage at once with all the bouncing about, and Hickey makes smart choices that suggest a whole room with one or two items. Brewin’s choice to make frequent use of the permanently installed stairways up into the audience gives the production an echo of cheer pyramids that really tickled me. I couldn’t help but imagine her shouting “Levels! Levels!” as the actors scrambled higher into the audience to give the arena staging some needed texture, so I think we can safely say that her time spent with the Saskatchewan Roughriders cheer squad has been productive.
As a whole, the Globe’s Bring It On does everything this musical was designed to do: it’s fast, funny, and fun for the whole family. Despite the script’s slightly over-tidy ending, it manages to remind us that doing your own thing (and being there for your friends) will always mean more in the long run than spending your time trying to fit in.
Bring It On runs at the Globe Theatre until June 22. Tickets are available here.
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WRITTEN BY
S. Bear Bergman
S. Bear Bergman is an author, storyteller, educator, and the founder and publisher of children’s book press Flamingo Rampant, which makes feminist, culturally diverse children’s picture books celebrating LGBT2Q+ kids and families. His latest book is SPECIAL TOPICS IN BEING A PARENT, from Arsenal Pulp.
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