“You Oughta Know:” HP&P’s “Jagged Little Pill” Needs to Be Taken (In)

by Donald Toal

Jukebox musicals have rarely been this reviewer’s cup of tea.  Oftentimes they are a fun romp with some catchy earworms but little in the way of deeper, lasting substance (looking at you, “Mamma Mia!”).  Sometimes, though, a jukebox musical not only has something meaningful to say, but says it with its full chest and raw honesty. Material that is full of sharp edges, but ones that need to be swallowed.  

2018’s Jagged Little Pill: the Musical fits that role to a grungy concert tee.  Inspired by Alanis Morrisette’s 1995 album of the same name, with music by Morrisette and Glen Ballard, lyrics by Morrisette, additional music by Michael Farrell and Guy Sigsworth, and a crackling book by Diablo Cody, both the musical and the album focus on themes of pain, healing, empowerment, and identity.

Haddonfield Plays and Player’s most recent production takes those ideas and does not hold back in making them powerful and heartfelt.  Under the nuanced vision of Director Ivie Wren and Assistant Director Stephan Burse, the result is–without hyperbole–a beautiful, brutal, sincere and necessary production that deserves to be experienced by as many people as possible.  

Please note that this show deals with heavy content, including depictions of sexual assault, substance abuse, transphobia, and alcohol abuse.  Make an informed decision about how you choose to engage with it, just do not look away.  Wren and Burse, along with assistance from Intimacy Coordinator Terri McIntyre, Stage Manager Ashley Engleson and ASM Tyler Baker, ensure these topics are handled safely and professionally with respect to the cast portraying them.  But be fully aware that these issues are not sanitized, or shrunk down to a digestible bite size.  The entire company’s hearts, minds AND politics are firmly on their sleeves from start to finish, exactly how Alanis (and this reviewer, for what it’s worth) would want it.  This show takes up space, it gets angry, it gets loud, and it is deeply, unflinchingly human.  That’s not a bug, it’s the main feature.  Choreographer Jessica Brotherton Newlin (who also served as Swing for this cast) packs this rockstar energy into every single move on display, giving the show the counterculture clout it requires and the emotional storytelling to go with it.  Newlin’s dancers move with dynamism, fluidity and purpose, creating some truly inspired moments I won’t spoil here.

Stepping into the space at Haddonfield gives you ‘backstage at a dive bar concert’ vibes.  Black paint with scrawled graffiti and a flaking, chipping veneer shows everywhere you look (courtesy of Scenic Painter Lauren Clayton).  Your eye might be drawn to details like a tiny Alanis tour poster stuck on a wall.  But Set Designer Wren, with help from Set Builder Ernie Jewell, shows us the devil’s in the details, as the other posters tacked up give some not-so-subtle clues to the real issues at the heart of the story.  

Also in plain view right from the start is the 8-piece band perched above the stage.  Under the Conductorship (and Keyboard) of Music Director Jared Moskowitz, the Pit Band–including Daniel O’Neill on Drums/Percussion, Mark Petti on Bass, John Mendoza on Guitar I, Kevin Buzby on Guitar II, Stefania Osorio Amortegui on Viola, Carolina Hooper on Cello, and Jaress Loo and Adam White on Violins–start strong and stay strong until the final riff.  The musicians not only nail the 90s rock sound but also blend their dynamics beautifully with the emotion of the moment, with the strings used to wonderful effect here.  Moskowitz’s coaching also shines with the cast, whose vocal prowess when singing as one is bursting with power, control and emotion.  Each solo also tailors their technique perfectly to match the mood of the given moment, resulting in a set list that runs the full emotional spectrum.

The production design matches that spectrum flawlessly, beat for beat.  Eric Baker’s Lighting Design uses stark contrast and bold colors to light each scene, with some clever innovations (for example, the LED bars underneath the pit band railing on the second level) to make the most of a minimalist space.  Sound Design by Brian Gensel also prioritizes subtle environmental details to draw the audience’s ear into the correct setting.  All technical cues are executed with pinpoint accuracy, with the cast moving in synchronicity to keep the action well-paced and flowing smoothly.  Costumes courtesy of Designer Sarah Deutsch and Costume Assistant L Bryce Welborn (the latter of whom is also credited for Props Design) create wardrobe looks that instantly convey a socioeconomic and personality snapshot of each named character.  The leather-and-grunge outfits worn by the ensemble are not only unique and eye-catching, but allow for fluid ease of movement throughout the show.  The entire combined visual of these technical elements is one of scrappy humanity, clothed in dark edges and a rebellious (but ultimately hopeful) spirit.

Both of those aspects are relevant for the core characters of Jagged Little Pill the Healy family.  The Connecticut clan of perfectionist super-mom Mary Jane (Jennie Santiago), activist adopted daughter Frankie (Natasha Kargbo), Harvard-accepted golden boy Nick (Nathan Rivera), and well-meaning workaholic dad Steve (Evan Harris) form a family dynamic that is uniquely flawed but instantly recognizable in some way to just about any one of us.  Like with so many families, the outer surface projected to the world is not quite the whole story.  As the layers are peeled back over the course of the show–some gently, some violently–we see the Healys for who they are: people trying their best to find a way forward towards truth, despite the challenges of the world and their own traumas, fears and addictions.  

The principal cast does a truly exceptional job of portraying each of these characters as truly three-dimensional individuals.  The nuance of their struggles is never diluted, and their interpersonal dynamics are masterfully portrayed.  Santiago walks the line between keeping it together and falling apart on a knife’s edge–her desperation to stay clear and unbothered despite everything shows through in every chipper outburst.  Her vocals are smooth and haunted, with her pain seeping into each lyric–particularly during “Smiling,” which is also a precise and skillfully staged number among many.  Kargbo’s Frankie struggles not only with the challenges of growing up and finding her voice, but with reconciling her Black identity within a family so opposite to her (in their values as well as their skintone).  Frankie’s drive to fight for what is right and speak truth to power shakes not only the walls of her family home, but those of the theatre itself–it’s a truly galvanizing moment when the full cast takes up her cause in their own hands.  Kargbo gives her character an earnestness and refusal to settle that is unquestionably infectious, along with natural chemistry with her costars.  As the eldest child and favored son, Rivera’s Nick shows the strain of those high expectations in every hesitant glance and quiet question.  When he finally shares his anxieties in the song “Perfect,” his soulful voice is a cool beam of light shining through the cracks in his facade.  Rivera portrays Nick with an honesty and inner conflict that fits believably into his family’s dysfunctional dynamic.  Harris gives Steve a grounded sincerity that anchors the rest of the family, even when they push back against it.  His vocals are earnest and impassioned, particularly during solos like “Not the Doctor” where his frustration at trying and failing to connect with Mary Jane is at the forefront.  Harris truly makes some organic acting choices in his scene work which endears the audience to him–as someone who has also gone to couple’s therapy, seeing his struggles in that scene is definitely relatable.  Harris and Santiago have a layered relationship to their scenework, steeped in trauma and deep emotional history together.  In lesser hands these characters could risk being one-note stock portrayals–Wren has clearly worked closely with their cast to make their humanity, warts and all, shine through.

This extends to the supporting cast without hesitation.  Rachel Grodek takes on the challenging role of Nick’s high school friend and abuse survivor Bella with fearlessness and gripping truth.  Her vocals during the song “Predator” are delivered with the full emotional weight and scars of what she has experienced, making for a truly moving and heartbreaking solo.  Combined with Newlin’s raw and balletic choreography, the result is a controlled, slow-motion musical explosion of trauma and pain.  Grodek should absolutely be complimented for her strong, emotionally grounded work here.  This goes double for L Bryce Welborn as Jo, Frankie’s friend/lover struggling to hold onto their own gender identity in the face of intolerance.  Welborn not only commands Cody’s book with pinpoint accuracy, they deliver their vocals with a truly stunning technique and control that needs to be witnessed in person.  Their Act Two solo, the iconic “You Oughta Know,” is a figurative–and literal–show-stopper, with both Welborn and the ensemble cranking the raw energy up to eleven and bringing the audience to their feet instantly once they hit the button.  Welborn’s chemistry with Kargbo is a standout of the cast, as is Michael Aquilino’s chemistry with Kargbo as scrappy new kid Phoenix.  Aquilino’s vocal work blends beautifully with Jo and Frankie during “That I Would Be Good,” the trio conveying their shared desires to be seen for who they are (not for who others want them to be) with optimistic fire, desperate hope, and stirring voices. Rounding out the secondary cast of characters, Zach Runfolo as Nick’s friend Andrew delivers his lines with a cavalier air befitting an untouchable highschooler, and his animalistic choreography during “Predator” is as captivating as it is chilling to watch.  Runfolo has a number of complex physical lifts and combinations throughout the show, and the performer meets them with rock-solid control and technique.

The same can absolutely be said of the entire ensemble for this production.  Wren and Newlin make sure that the ensemble, which included Sam Arcangelli, Brooke Ariel, Josh Buffington, Corey Critelli (Danni/Protestor/Dance Captain), Emily Colón (Bella Understudy), Lex Goyden (Featured Dancer/Courtney/Kelsey), Ari’ana Jenkins (Lancer/Pharmacist), Ava Puentes, Shannon Sharpe (Lily/Jill/Dr. Gardner), and Tatiana Tapang (Barista/Receiptionist/Protestor) are not merely passive observers of the Healys’ struggles, but active participants in the action, often serving as the physical manifestation of their emotional and mental conflicts (when not embodying a named character).  The ensemble moves not only with speed and precision, but electric stage presence, meeting the moment with the energy and emotion it needs to truly come alive.  Their vocals are similarly strong and clear, carrying the messages of the show fearlessly and with solid support.  Special mention goes to Featured Dancer Goyden, who tackles some of the show’s most challenging choreo head-on with truly stunning athleticism and grace, as well as a magnetic focus on the moments they are portraying.  Their truly stellar work on several of the most pivotal and emotionally fraught moments of character-centric staging is, simply put, something I dare not give away.  You simply need to see it in person.

It’s very easy to look at art, and by extension, theatre, as first and foremost an escape, somewhere to safely hide away and insulate ourselves from our troubles. But good art–and exceptional theatre–also challenges those norms, staring them in the face and witnessing the more difficult parts of ourselves and the world we exist in.  Late in the show, Mary Jane reflects on having to confront “things that make me uncomfortable–because they should.”  This is the greatest success of HP&P’s Jagged Little Pill, facing these discomforts and forcing ourselves to consider why we feel the way we do.  Producer Gina Petti Baldasari and Artistic Director Al Fuchs should be commended, along with the entire cast and production team, for taking a big series of risks with this show.  This is not only for producing new work, but refusing to file down the sharp teeth this work bites at the world with.  The wounds it leaves on your heart are necessary for healing, and for seeing those around us more clearly and understanding their pain better.  Jagged Little Pill runs at Haddonfield Plays and Players from May 8 through May 23rd.  If you see one piece of theatre in South Jersey this year–make it this one.  You won’t regret it. Tickets can be found at https://www.haddonfieldplayers.com/tickets#/productions-view