Jonathon and I went to the Palace Theatre last night to see Holler if Ya Hear Me, a Tupac Shakur jukebox musical with a book by Todd Kreidler.
(Thanks to TDF tickets, Broadway can be an affordable one-in-a-while date.)
I won't write up anything in-depth; the show is still in previews, after all. I remember my salad days as a stage management intern, typing up the daily changes during previews and posting them on the call board. So I'm aware that the show I saw last night might be substantially different from the one that opens next week. Additionally, it's generally considered bad manners for a critic to review a show prior to its official opening. I know my readership is quite small (since I'm only blogging to make sure I keep myself engaged this summer), but I still want to be sporting.
Yet if you're reading between the lines, you might guess that this is not the approach of someone who unequivocally enjoyed the show. You'd be right.
I do want to acknowledge that the actors performed with impressive passion. Saul Williams was particularly fervent as John, just-released from jail and reentering his old neighborhood. But he can't do anything about what I find most deeply problematic: the book.
If you want to take me out for coffee or tea or gluten-free beer, I will elaborate off the record (probably energetically so).
I saw Clair Huxtable / Gus's mom there last night. She gets a straight-up A+.