SEE IT: Buckle up for the vibrantly entertaining “Ride the Cyclone”
In my UnProfessional Opinion, Arena Stage’s musical selections over the recent years have been rather tame — golden age, tried and true, conventional. You buy a ticket knowing that you will see a pretty production of a perfectly acceptable musical, and leave saying, “That was nice.” As a fervent theatregoer, I have yearned for something more, for them to push the envelope a little further on their musical productions in terms of story, style, and design.
In 2023, they delivered.
A co-production with McCarter Theatre Center, Ride the Cyclone is a delightfully odd, energetic feast for your eyes, ears, and heart. This cult favorite musical is wonderfully original and incredibly well-constructed, with a vibrant concept, strong characters, and fabulous songs. I am surprised I never heard of it before, but sometimes a show hits you at just the right time, and with the right production. Thankfully, Arena’s production excels in every element, making for both a powerful artistic achievement and a dazzling evening at the theatre.
Let’s set the scene: Six high school chamber choir singers tragically perish in an accident on the faulty Cyclone rollercoaster. They arrive in a limbo space of the afterlife, meeting The Amazing Karnak (Marc Geller), a fortune-teller machine that presents an incredible opportunity to them: each student must tell a story for the chance to return to life. But only one can win. From there, we learn about each student in the most exciting, extravagant way. (Now that I think about it, the structure sounds a little bit like the musical Six, but a thousand times quirkier and much more exhilarating.)
The production’s design elements are perfection. I never use that word lightly. Each element was terrifically detailed and gorgeously cohesive with each other. Similar to my experience at Round House’s The Tempest, when you enter the theatre, you are immediately transported to another world, with a brilliantly constructed atmosphere. Scott Davis’ scenic design conveys a whimsical, dilapidated amusement park carnival. Everywhere you look, there is a wonder to behold: cute, ornate trunks line the stage; a red and white circus tent backdrop; a spiral hypnosis wheel; a ventriloquist dummy; and the broken off rollercoaster track suspended in the air. With the addition of haze and a haunting blue glow, we know something is amiss as we peer into the shadows of this unworldly scene.
The caliber and scale of the design cannot be understated. It is chaotically energetic, deliciously lavish, and exceedingly well-crafted. Scott Davis’ set is elaborate and transformative in ways I never dreamed. Jiyoun Chang’s lighting design triumphs in its hauntingly mystical and gleefully animated storytelling. The characters are wonderfully individualized, in all levels of quirk and camp, with Trevor Bowen’s and J. Jared Janas’ design work in costume, hair, makeup, and wigs. Katherine Freer’s projections and André Pluees’ sound design were fabulously conceived, fleshing out this creatively dynamic spectacle on the stage. All designers went above and beyond, and the results are theatre at its most magnificent.
The ensemble cast leaves nothing to be desired. Each of them handles their uniquely challenging roles with stunning ease and abundant charm. The singing, dancing, and acting are all remarkably elevated. Their characters’ eccentric personalities are skillfully developed and fully realized, whether they are speaking, singing, or just hanging in the background. You can tell that the cast is having a blast on that stage, which is a great gift for us to watch.
Marc Geller’s Karnak grounds this absurd world with his stoic campiness, delivering some of the wittiest lines to the highest of hilarity, all while confined to his tiny machine booth. Shinah Hey excels as the obnoxiously ambitious, goody-two-shoes Ocean, the self-identified leader of this choir. Hey imbues Ocean with all the corniness and competitiveness that we love to hate. Gabrielle Dominique is such a treat as Constance, the awkward, uncool girl with a lot of feelings. (I would totally be friends with her.) Dominique’s expressions of explosive joy and panicky discomfort were hilarious. Both Matthew Boyd Snyder’s character and performance were surprising to me, in the very best ways. His character Ricky, who during his life was mute, opens up wildly in the afterlife, putting his overactive imagination on full display. Snyder was fantastic at portraying this journey, particularly during his solo, where his character warns: “It gets weird now.” The transformation into an oversexed, nerdy Adam Lambert-esque “Space Jesus” was a bewildering thrill.
There are three performances that I specifically want to commend on their exceptional brilliance.
Eli Mayer was terrific as Mischa, a walking, talking, delightful oxymoron. An emotionally vulnerable masc bro? A straight rapper who binged RuPaul’s Drag Race? Mayer navigated the character’s complexities with finesse and sincerity. He also wonderfully captured the most moving part of the show, in which his character, who is from Ukraine, describes the tragedies of his past at home. Mayer hit every mark, comedic and dramatic, spot on.
Nick Martinez electrifies as Noel, the irritable, exuberant gay choir member. The audience delights in watching Martinez boil with loathing or yearn for the life of his daydreams. His solo number, which explores his French New Wave obsession, is a hilariously captivating showstopper. Martinez commits 110% to this passionate, sexy, melodramatic fantasy, and the result is campy theatrical excellence.
Lastly, Ashlyn Maddox shines in the very difficult role of Jane Doe, a mysterious sixth student that died in the accident and lost her head, unable to be identified. Instead, she is given a doll’s head as a replacement, terrifically designed to great effect. Maddox’s performance was visually and vocally extraordinary, frequently leaving me in awe, particularly during her impressive solo. Her doll-like physicality was amazing, balancing just enough creepiness with goofy cuteness.
This musical juggles comedy, drama, mystery, and adventure with astonishing clarity and an impressive perspective, which director Sarah Rasmussen successfully tackles with great intellect and heart. Each facet was shaped with care and precision. The choreography by Jim Lichtscheidl and Tiger Brown complement the music and the story gorgeously, while adding to the impressive visual flair. The show flowed with an energetic, satisfying pace and utilized every inch of the set to its utmost potential.
Although the rollercoaster may be in shambles, Ride the Cyclone is a fine-tuned piece of exhilarating theatre. It presents a vibrancy that I have felt Arena Stage has been holding back on. It is the best musical production I have seen so far at Arena (and yes, I saw the original Dear Evan Hansen). With clever writing, outstanding design, impeccable direction, and an endearingly talented cast, this is a fantastic show to begin 2023 with. It is my UnProfessional Opinion that you SEE Ride the Cyclone.
Ride the Cyclone
Book, music, and lyrics by Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell
Directed by Sarah Rasmussen
Arena Stage, in association with McCarter Theatre Center
January 13 — February 19, 2023
