Blackout: making connections in the dark
07 Aug 2021

by Drew Rowsome -Photos by Dahlia Katz

"Welcome back to live theatre," said Mitchell Marcus, CEO of The Musical Stage Company as he introduced Blackout. I hope that he, and the cast and crew, could feel just how happy we all were to be there. It has been a long haul and despite the masks and the checkpoints to enter and the social distancing, Blackout managed for its entire running time to transport the audience out of the pandemic, the constant bleak news, and the pain of isolation, and into the wonderful world of musical theatre. There is a connection that live performance has that no other art can quite equal and for that evening, we were all connected to something magical and sorely needed. 

Marcus also warned us that this production of Blackout is meant to be a preview to a full scale production that was scheduled for 2020 and which has now been punted to sometime in the future when we can all return to indoor venues. He also asked for feedback, so here goes.

Blackout consists of three acts - Gemini, Pandora and Cygnus - which are actually separate mini-musicals connected by the thread of occurring during the first night of the blackout of 2003. The opening is strong with Synthia Yusuf arriving on stage singing "Bring It On," an anthem of defiance to the blackout's power and of revelling in her independence and self-reliance. With, of course in a post-Sondheim era, a solid undertone of just how lonely and frightened she is. Her estranged sister, Chilina Kennedy (Beautiful: The Carole King Musical, The Little Mermaid), arrives, having been stranded by the blackout. There are family dynamics of blame, guilt and envy to be worked out with most of the jokes being at Kennedy's expense. The sister is a bit of a flake and is on a perpetual "spiritual quest." 

Some of the lines are very funny, a lot don't rise above the sitcom level where 'hippies' have been mocked for decades. But the big question is: why, when there are two powerhouse vocalists on stage, are they bickering and hurling insults that aren't in song? When the sisters sing, Gemini soars and if a good chunk of the dialogue were turned into musical back and forth, the dynamics would go from entertaining to ecstatic. 

The second act, Pandora, begins as a spontaneous neighbourhood party is winding down. Two guests remain and while the hostess wants them to stay, the host is eager for them to leave. All three acts of Blackout riff on the connections that were forged by chance in the blackout, of the sense of community that emerged instead of the feared looting and violence. Pandora is the most explicit and the most subtle. Germain Konji has a wistful but powerful number about being on the outside looking in, before Yemie Sonuga brings the metaphor full circle with a heartbreaking play on the phrase "being in the dark." The songs are so beautifully done that the winces brought on by the clunky plot device of a party game that spills secrets is forgotten. Rami Khan supplies comedic relief and Pandora ends with a gorgeous love ballad between Sonuga and Jonathan Winsby. 

Again, there is a lot of melodrama compressed into a short period of time, something that is greatly aided by the tropes of a musical where emotions that are too big or volatile to be spoken, can be sung with ease. Anton Lipovetsky's music and lyrics are engaging and flow with a deceptive simplicity, again I just wish there had been more of it. Steven Gallagher (Elegies) has written a lyrical book that would easily lend itself to sung-through numbers that would paper over the plot expediencies the time constraints dictate. 

It all comes together in the third act, Cygnus. Of course Cygnus has two distinct advantages. First of all it is a remount of the version that was part of Reprint so Cygnus has already has its feathers groomed. Secondly, by now the dark has surrounded the stage so we are focussed with only the swooping bats to distract as they feed on the insects drawn to the lights. Michael De Rose (Lil' Red Riding Hood, The Wizard of Oz, Parade, Merrily We Roll Along, Grease) benefits the most with an 11 o'clock number accentuated with a spotlight and a dramatic blackout. He seizes the moment and the role's emotional roller coaster intricacies to ignite the stage. He and Brandon Antonio meet cute in the dark and, while the connection is fleeting, it is cathartic and brings Blackout's themes of chance and community into stark focus. It is not a spoiler to reveal that they do not have a happy ending, but Cygnus gives Blackout a very happy and satisfying ending. 

Blackout is far from the preview Marcus warned us of. While the set design may be simple, it is effective and is a fitting backdrop for the consistently dynamic performances. The joie de theatrical vivre that they feel from being onstage again, spills over the edges of the stage and shatters the social distancing barriers we are subjected to. Like the connections made during the blackout, during Blackout, it was brief but intense and joyful.