Love Hamilton? Then you should see this as well

IN THE HEIGHTS
Sydney Opera House Drama Theatre, July 24
Until August 25
Reviewed by JOHN SHAND
★★★½

This was Lin-Manuel Miranda’s apprenticeship. He wrote the first draft of In the Heights at 19, nine years before it revolutionised musical theatre on Broadway in 2008.

While rap had been used in musicals before, Miranda suddenly made it the most succinct way of characters communicating information in the idiom’s history. Hamilton took him another six years to perfect. In terms of exhaustively refining ideas, Miranda is to musicals what James Joyce was to fiction.

Amy Campbell’s choreography, defines character and fizzes with energy. Credit: Daniel Boud

But if Hamilton is his Ulysses, In the Heights falls well short of being his A Portrait of the Artist as Young Man. Here, the dazzling way with words – the Byronic genius for rhyme schemes – is almost exclusively in evidence in the rapping of protagonist Usnavi (Ryan Gonzalez), who runs a bodega in New York’s Hispanic-centric Washington Heights.

Directed by Luke Joslin, this production is descended from the show’s 2018 Sydney premiere at Hayes Theatre. The crucial difference is that back then we hadn’t seen Hamilton here and, once you have, the apprenticeship status of In the Heights is glaring in the sometimes-ham-fisted songwriting, half-baked emotions and soppy Act Two (book by Quiara Alegria Hudes).

But there are also many delights, such as how economically Miranda and Hudes delineate a dozen characters at the outset. Another is Gonzalez who, while not quite as charismatic, is still a hugely engaging, welcoming and convincing portal into the show.

A third is Lena Cruz’s singing as Abuela Claudia, evading the shrillness that besets too many of her colleagues. A fourth is Amy Campbell’s choreography, which defines character and fizzes with energy simultaneously (and loves being on a much larger stage than the Hayes), and a fifth is Janet Dacal’s sassy, scene-stealing performance as the street-smart hairdresser, Daniela.

Ryan Gonzalez is a hugely engaging, welcoming and convincing portal into the show.Credit: Daniel Boud

Several of the rest are adequate rather than compelling, and while Mason Browne’s raw, construction-zone-like set design works well, the sound is a significant problem. The voices are too brittle and the volume too great, with the consequence that the all-important lyrics are often lost. Meanwhile, the rhythm section feels blunt, lacking the snap the show demands, as does the sometimes-flat trumpet.

While the Hayes experience was more intense, the more expansive choreography offers compensation, and, were the sound problems addressed, fans of Hamilton should definitely see where it all began.

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THE LAST DINNER PARTY
Hordern Pavilion, July 23
Reviewed by FRANCES HOWE
★★★★

Traditionally indicative of a divine presence, illustrations of cherubs hang on either side of an audience full of ribbons, lace and pleather.

Then, as though she herself has been called upon by a higher power, Abigail Morris, monarch of the English quintet the Last Dinner Party, emerges to lead her followers (band and crowd) into Burn Alive, a rosy track that lets her twist across the stage while begging to be, well, burned alive.

Abigal Morris is a frontwoman for the ages.Credit: Jordan Munns

Morris follows up with Caesar on a TV Screen, in which she howls about how everyone will soon love her, making it clear we are here to listen to her manifesto and no one will be allowed to contest it.

Despite upgrading to a larger venue for this last night of their three-date sold-out Australian tour, the Last Dinner Party are still in their adolescence – their debut album was only released in February on the back of last year’s successful first single, Nothing Matters.

Since then, the band has won over fans with their extravagant pop sound and costumes that combine medieval gowns, leotards, corsets and collars. Morris’ stage persona encompasses 18th-century royalty, hallowed rock star, TikTok idol and the one-that-got-away, in a single act.

The spotlight strays from Morris long enough for bassist Georgia Davies, the only Australian in the band, to embrace her first hometown show. Impressive harmonies and cool confidence from Davies, Lizzie Mayland (guitar), Emily Roberts (lead guitar and flute) and Aurora Nishevci (keyboard) show the Last Dinner Party are more than just Morris.

A cover of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game lands well and helps fill out a set restricted by a limited discography. Portrait of a Dead Girl is an anthem that demands too much from a good portion of the audience who bought a ticket off the back of Nothing Matters, which meets a wall of phones as the intro plays and goes by all too quickly.

Although at times it feels as though Morris has choreographed the whole show without letting the others know what dance moves are coming next, she is evidently a frontwoman for the ages, as the Last Dinner Party continue their attempted ascension to musical nobility.

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VOLUME FESTIVAL
ANDRE 3000
The Tank, Art Gallery of NSW
July 21
Reviewed by JAMES JENNINGS
★★★★

When it comes to musical about-faces, multi-platinum-selling rap artist to improvisational flautist is up there on the scale of unexpected career left turns.

Andre Benjamin, aka Andre 3000, could easily have cranked out more albums as one half of celebrated hip-hop duo OutKast, although he wouldn’t have needed the money after authoring ubiquitous 2003 mega-hit Hey Ya!

Andre 3000 has walked the road less travelled with his wind synthesiser.Credit: Jordan Munns

Instead, the 49-year-old has walked the road less travelled, rejecting the weight of fans’ expectations by releasing his first solo LP last year, New Blue Sun, a collection of weightless, ambient flute music (first track: I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a ‘Rap’ Album but this Is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me this Time).

How many people have turned up to this show because they’re a fan of Benjamin’s new direction versus how many are present so they can be in the same room as a musical icon is unclear. However, the number of people clutching Andre 3000 T-shirts who talk more than listen indicates this is a gig many have attended simply to say they were there.

There were plenty of people at the gig who seem to have attended simply to say they were there.Credit: Jordan Munns

For those willing to open their ears and minds and meet Benjamin on his own terms, there is much to savour.

Although banter with the crowd half an hour in is largely unintelligible due to the sound system, what is deciphered is that Benjamin and his band – percussionist and multi-instrumentalist Carlos Niño, Surya Botofasina on keyboards and Deantoni Parks on synthesiser and drums – improvise every show, making each a unique experience.

The free jazz approach is ripe with the thrill of experimentation. Benjamin’s wind synthesiser changes tone throughout the performance, ranging from a traditional flute to a whale cry to bagpipes, while the ever-shifting soundscapes from the musicians backing him conjures both gut-shaking bass rumbles and drifting notes as gentle as a summer breeze.

Benjamin seems genuinely happy, content and appreciative for those that have come to see him play. And although you can’t help but fantasise about hearing his transportive music lying on grass under blue skies, rather than in the dark bowels of the Art Gallery of NSW, it’s a joy to see a talented artist push himself into unexplored territory and generously invite others to join him.