Parade – Book by Alfred Uhry; Music and lyrics by Jason Robert Brown; Co-conceived by Harold Prince; Directed by Michael Arden; Choreography by Lauren Yalango-Grant & Christopher Cree Grant; Music direction by Charlie Alterman. At the Emerson Colonial Theatre, Boston, through March 23rd.
by Mike Hoban
Theatergoers should prepare for a profoundly conflicted experience with the Broadway revival of Parade, now at the Emerson Colonial on its North American tour. The brilliant artistry of this production is undeniable, with its superb cast and creative staging, but the content is a painful reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Although it’s set in the Deep South in 1913, the mob rule and the institutionalized demonization of the “other” look a lot like America in 2025.
As we learn from the prologue (projected against the back wall of the stage before the show begins), Parade is the story of Leo Frank (an intense Max Chernin), a Jewish American from Brooklyn who worked as the superintendent of an Atlanta pencil factory in the early 20th century. Frank was accused of the sexual assault and murder of thirteen-year-old factory worker Mary Phagan (an angelic Olivia Goosman) during the Confederate Memorial Day parade in 1913. We know early on in the proceedings that the fix will be in when prosecutor Hugh Dorsey (Andrew Samonsky) releases a suspect, nightwatchman Newt Lee, reasoning that “hanging another Nigra ain’t enough this time. We gotta do better.”
Frank is convicted and sentenced to death by hanging – without any evidence of wrongdoing – but through coercion of witnesses, outright lies, and a corrupt and opportunistic press that feeds the mob’s exhortation that “Someone’s gonna pay!” in the fiery “Where Will You Stand When the Flood Comes?” Frank’s sentence is later commuted to life in prison by the governor (Chris Shyer), largely through the efforts of Frank’s underappreciated wife, Lucille (a terrific Talia Suskauer). Still, an angry mob (in collusion with the authorities) storms the prison, kidnaps Leo, and hangs him from a tree when he refuses to confess to Mary’s murder.
It’s a bit perplexing as to why the play’s creators (book by Alfred Uhry, music and lyrics by Jason Robert Brown, and co-conceived by Harold Prince) chose to turn this horrific story into a musical, but it’s still gripping theater, despite knowing the outcome of the trial beforehand. For starters, Leo is not a particularly likable character. He’s a workaholic and disturbingly dismissive of his wife, and as we see during one scene at the jail where he refuses food due to his “delicate intestinal condition,” he is more than a bit entitled. He’s also a Jewish Yankee in a South that still refers to the Civil War as “the War of Northern Aggression,” so there are two strikes against him from the outset. The antisemitism that drives the injustice of the accusations, conviction, and eventual execution of Frank seems a little muted compared to the historical accounts, however. Historian Leonard Dinnerstein reported that one juror had been overheard to say before his selection for the jury: “I am glad they indicted the goddamn Jew…and if I get on that jury, I’ll hang that Jew for sure.” Angry anti-Semitic mobs had reportedly gathered outside the courthouse during Frank’s trial, screaming: “Hang that Jew, or we’ll hang you!”
Despite the bleak nature of the story, Parade is a powerful and compelling musical. While few of the songs are likely to appear in the Great American Songbook, they are impactful and masterfully executed, propelled by music director Charlie Alterman’s marvelous orchestrations and exceptional vocal performances by the cast, from the leads to the ensemble. Highlights include hymn-like “There Is A Fountain” sung at Mary’s funeral, paired with the mournful and rageful “It Don’t Make Sense; the haunting and beautifully choreographed “The Factory Girls/Come Up to My Office.” the gospel-influenced “That’s What He Said” sung by the man most historians believe killed Mary, Jim Conley (played by Ramone Nelson); and “This is Not Over Yet,” sung by Leo and Lucille during a conjugal visit at the prison.
The staging of this musical is noteworthy in that there are no traditional entrances and exits. The entire cast sits on either side of a boxing ring-sized wooden podium in pews or simple, mismatched wooden chairs when not involved in the scene, although the entirety of the remaining stage area is used. There are electronically generated captions flashed onto the front of the podium to indicate time and place, and on the back wall, black and white photographs portray the setting (courthouse, governor’s mansion, etc.), display newspaper headlines from the trial, and identify the characters onstage using their real-life photos from the early 1900s, firmly rooting the story in time and place.
Director Michael Arden uses this unique setting to craft marvelous stage pictures, including a handful of tableaus that form backdrops for the speaking and singing players. The inspired choreography by Lauren Yalango-Grant & Christopher Cree Grant is less about traditional dance numbers and more about movement, with “The Factory Girls/Come Up to My Office” number a disturbing but beautiful standout.
As difficult as it can be to watch at times, there are a number of touching and uplifting moments in the production, including later scenes where Leo finally recognizes Lucille for the worthwhile person and partner she is, or when the governor chooses moral integrity over mob rule – knowing it spells the end of his political career. The original Parade was a Broadway flop when it debuted in 1998, closing after only two months, but this reworked version won the 2023 Tony for Best Musical Revival, and it’s easy to see why – it’s an artistic gem. For tickets and information, go to: https://www.emersoncolonialtheatre.com/events/parade/
