ASSASSINS – Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim; Book by John Weidman; Directed by Warren Sherrill; Music Direction by David Nehls. Produced by Miners Alley Playhouse (1100 Miners Alley, Golden) through September 14. Tickets available at 303-935-3044 or minersalley.com.
A recent poll of fans of Sondheim listed ASSASSINS in the fifth slot out of the 20 shows he wrote or to which he contributed – above shows more often produced, like GYPSY or FORUM. This indicates the extent to which Sondheim aficionados appreciate the intricate lyrics and unconventional patterns in his music.
But as difficult as it is to make would-be criminals sympathetic characters in a Broadway musical, Sondheim and this talented cast pull it off. The eight successful and unsuccessful attempted killers display a spectrum of motivations and (in their minds) mitigating circumstances for their actions. Led through their stories by the “Proprietor” (Julia Tobey) dressed as a Ringmaster in a rundown circus, she uncovers their personalities with her questions and jibes. She cunningly hands them guns and then promises, “Kill the Prez and win a prize” – presumably an honored place in history.
Among the successful gunmen, Drew Horwitz makes a powerful and committed John Wilkes Booth, bent on blaming Lincoln for his own failing career. He is given honored status as the first and, up until modern times, the most remembered Presidential assassin. His demise in a burning barn is most eloquently portrayed. Drew does an outstanding job in telling Booth’s story and then in lending support to the shooters who follow him.
Next in line was Matthew Murry, giving a touching portrayal of mentally ill Charles Guiteau, who shot and killed James Garfield because he was “passed over for an appointment to become Ambassador to France” – a delusional event that only had reality in Guiteau’s mind. Matthew portrays Guiteau’s impatient madness well in a comic reading of a poem written by him, “I Am Going to the Lordy” on the way to his execution by hanging.
The third in line was Leon Czolgosz, an anarchist greatly influenced by the work of Emma Goldman, a union organizer, and depressed by the economic conditions that existed in 1901. His point-blank shot at William McKinley in front of a crowd resulted in an immediate arrest and subsequent electrocution. As presented by David Otto (assisted by Sondheim), he is given the character of a man genuinely committed to his cause and honestly believing McKinley’s death would change things.
We go 62 years before another death in the hands of an assassin. John F. Kennedy’s journey through Dallas has been well documented. Clark Destin Jones gives Lee Harvey Oswald a bewildered persona, a puppet being led to killing by sinister outside forces. Even acknowledging that his actions would be debated for years after they happened.
So far, so good since then, although we have had some near misses. John Hauser creates a confused and tormented John Hinckley writing forlorn love letters to Jodie Foster. To prove his love and get his name in the paper, he attempted to kill Ronald Reagan. He argues with Squeaky Fromme (Kira Wendland), who was a follower of Charlie Manson. According to her, Manson was in every way better than Hinckley. She earned her place in history by taking a shot at Gerald Ford. A pretty but clueless girl, her attempt went south when her gun misfired. She is paired historically with Sara Jane Moore, a seemingly ordinary housewife and bookkeeper who took another shot at Ford only three weeks later. Sharon Kay White provides the comic relief in her portrayal of a gun-shy woman target practicing by shooting at a Colonel Sanders Chicken container.
Another failed attempt was carried out by Samuel Byck, relatively lost to history for his planned hijacking of a plane to crash into the Nixon White House. Delusional, he recorded his plans and motives so that the world would understand he was really a hero prepared to take the hit for ridding the world of this criminal. Damon Guerrasio gives him a humorous persona as well as illustrating his madness and helplessness.
A more powerful ensemble of players would be hard to find. The group supported each other in the telling of their individual stories and songs. Led by Czolgosz, who, as an ironworker, details the making of a gun, the Gun Song extols the convenience of being able to “Move your little finger and you can change the world.” “Another National Anthem” allows the characters to give voice to their various reasons for thinking they needed to “move their little finger.” Another makes us all recall where we were when we learned of Kennedy’s death; everyone alive at that time has instant recall of the horror and pain of that moment. “Something Just Broke” brings it all home again.
While it sounds like a gruesome subject for a musical, it has cohesion and purpose. It is a great deal funnier than you might think because these were, after all, merely human beings – flawed and confused like so many others who never pick up a gun. If you are triggered by gunshots, there are only rimshot noises from a drum to keep us in the moment, and no real guns are ever on the stage.
Warren Sherrill did a fine job of corralling this all-over-the-place piece and moving his actors in a choreographed gavotte that keeps time, place, and player firmly planted for the audience. The shabby shooting gallery designed by Tina Anderson was enhanced by the moody light design of Vance McKenzie. The equally shabby and dirty, but authentic, period clothing was designed by Crystal McKenzie. They all work together to create the special place in Hell where misguided assassins spend eternity.
A WOW factor of 8.75!!