Remarkable, immersive ‘Here Lies Love’ closing this Sunday

By ALAN SMASON, WYES-TV Theatre Critic (“Steppin’ Out“)

The history of Here Lies Love dates back almost two decades ago when David Byrne and Fatboy Slim came up with an improbable concept album about Imelda and Ferdinand Marcos, the despots of the Philippines who were overthrown by the civil disobedience movement People Power Revolution in 1986. The concept saw life as a disco musical complete with a DJ in Seattle in 2008, but the most impressive undertaking was the legendary production of Here Lies Love directed by Alex Timbers (Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson) that ran at the Off-Broadway Public Theatre in 2013.

The show made its Broadway debut this past July – a decade after its run at the Public – but it did not do so without a measure of controversy.

Previous productions used taped music in order to give the atmosphere of karoake at a live nightclub. The pushback from the musicians union (and other unions in solidarity) was swift and not unexpected.

A compromise was reached prior to previews with the producers agreeing to put in 12 live performing musicians, but doing away with a pit full of other musicians. Besides, the adventurous floor plans by scenic designer David Korins did away with the pit and all of the orchestra seats. A massive steel structure was put into their place to transform the theater into a night club replete with thousands of feet of neon lights.

Here Lies Love is a truly immersive and overwhelmingly sensory experience. There are three ways to view the show. One, the traditional audience in the balcony is probably preferred by most. Second are gallery seats that surround the stage from the lower balcony. Finally, there is a disco floor complete with a giant glittering mirror ball and massive projection screens by Peter Nigrini (MJ) that display videos for all to see from every perspective. That was where I wanted to be in my review of the show.

Sources have estimated the weekly overhead for the show is in the $700, 000 weekly range, but recent ticket sales had only been grossing about $500,000 to $550,000 per week. It doesn’t take an accountant with a sharpened pencil to point out that heavy losses of that type cannot be sustained for very long.

A closing notice was posted a few weeks ago, only a few days after press agents had agreed for me to review the show. I frankly could not resist the temptation to be a part of the show rather than witnessing it from afar. I came to the Broadway Theatre expecting some sort of wow factor, but had absolutely no idea what I was about to experience.

A member of the stage crew asked where I was headed and I blurted out “the floor” as I showed her my ticket.

“Ah, right through here,” she said opening up a heavy set of plastic curtains one might see suspended from inside a large refrigerator. But it was anything but cold on the dance floor.

The dance music was already pulsating when I entered the arena . Several technical crew members in colorful jump suits labeled “Millennium” informed patrons they must follow their signals and move when instructed to do so.  They each carried batons that lit up with bright colors between songs when it was time to move.

Technical crew members clad in black then moved the elevated interior platforms on which the stars performed in precision across the dance floor. At first the platform was clearly in the form of a crucifix, the design intended to remind the audience above of the overwhelming prominence of the Catholic Church in the Philippines. The proscenium of the stage was barely visible through the maze of lighting equipment that was suspended from it. The spotlights focused their intense beams from the gallery onto the performers as they began to perform the songs approximately four feet above the disco floor. The effect was to have the stars tower above the dance floor and to have them stand out from above the main stage in the center as well as from satellite stages and catwalks on all sides.

As the batons began to flash, the Millennium crew members extended their hands like marshallers at airports for incoming planes. At one point they extended their batons as a warning not to move any further or cross an imaginary line.

One of the crew members confided earlier that I should try to stay as close to the moving stage as possible and the strategy paid off handsomely. Many of those who didn’t stay close to the stage were forced further back when the stage split between numbers.

The DJ normally played by Moses Villarama was filled in by Angelo Soriano the night I was at the Broadway Theatre. He shouted out directly to the disco floor and to the upper rows of those seated as he prepared the hundreds of people standing on the dance floor and those seated above for what was about to happen. We were magically transported to Manilla in the Philippines via the pulsating beats of Fatboy Slim and the smart and hip compositions of David Byrne.

The choreography by Annie-B Parson seemed to be a living, breathing part of the musical. Having worked with Byrne previously on his American Utopia, she was an obvious choice to enhance his work for the Broadway stage.

A series of photo projections and live videos of the performers added to the historic narrative of the impoverished girl Imelda (“Rose of Tacloban”), who would rise to become the First Lady of the Philippines and more through her marriage to Marcos. In the role of Imelda was the stunning Arielle Jacobs, an impressive singer with intuitive acting skills. The title is a reference to what the convicted despot said she wanted for her epitaph, despite decades of graft, corruption and numerous human rights abuses imposed under martial law.

Yet, while we know of her excesses and her afforded celebrity status among the world’s leaders, Imelda is seen as a figure who is simply supporting her husband during troubling political times. Even the implementation of “Order 1081” that instituted martial law across the Philippines and gave the Marcoses unprecedented power over the military and the judiciary is somehow seen as justified and necessary:

“So the seeds of our great future, they can grow here when we’re done
And it’s clearly all because of Order 1081″ the lyrics ring out.

The title song is an infectious homage to her perceived philosophy of benevolence to the Filipino people, despite the abuses their government carried out at the instigation of the Marcoses. It began with an acknowledgment of her simple upbringing, but then asked the question:

Is it a sin to love too much?
Is it a sin to care?
I do it all for you
How can it be unfair?

The driving rhythm and infectious backbeat of Byrne and Fatboy Slim reaches a high in “Please Don’t,” a call by Imelda to let the Philippines take care of its own business and for others, especially men, to leave her alone.

Jacobs dominates the performances and is every bit the equal of her counterpart Jose Llana, who originated the role of Ferdinand Marcos at the Public. He is a strong and charismatic figure, holding a microphone as sweat pours off his brow, executing intricate dance moves with Jacobs. Soon, the dancers accompanying them adorn her with a wedding dress and him with formal wear as we perceive their  hasty wedding.

Llana’s singing is also remarkable and he cuts an impressive figure whether opposite Jacobs or with a retinue of other performers representing his supporters and sycophants.

Earlier, we also met Nimoy Aquino (Conrad Ricamora), Imelda’s first love, who went on to become the greatest political rival of the Marcoses, and Estrella Cumpas (Melody Butiu), the woman who raised her, but who was snubbed by her later in life. Both made for compelling backstories and their supporting roles added to an understanding of the character of Imelda, especially after she had come to power and saw them both as detriments to her public persona and as challenges to her political base.

All in all, it was a fascinating experience. For the first time in my life as a theatre reviewer, i was in the fishbowl looking out and it gave me a deep appreciation for how difficult keeping all the moving parts can be and how easy this cast and crew made it seem – and all while dancing to very good club music.

Costumes by Clint Ramos, one of the members of the producing team and a creative consultant, were superlative. Korins’ scenic designs were enhanced by Justin Townsend’s inventive and imaginative lighting designs. Sound design by M. L. Dogg and Cody Spencer went hand in glove with J. Oconer Navarro’s music direction. Matt Stine and Justin Levine handled the music production and arrangements along with Kimberly Grigsby, who worked with Levine on specific vocal arrangements.

Here Lies Love,  by David Byrne and Fatboy Slim and directed by Alex Timbers concludes its Broadway run at the Broadway Theatre, 1631 Broadway, in New York City on Sunday, November 26. Tickets are available here.