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This review was originally published on April 19, 2024.
At the77th Tony Awards,Stereophonicwon five awards, including Best Play.
Theyve been at it for months.
The air is clogged with cigarette smoke and marijuana smoke and tension as viscous as Marmite.
Then suddenly, gradually, somehow both a miracle happens.
Take 37 is perfect.
The song bursts into driving, dazzling life.
People throw down headphones and instruments and grab each other, hugging and hooting and doing stupid dances.
Simon howls at the universe, WERE SUCH A GOOD BAND!!!
(Theres acast albumon the way.)
Its a torture to need people, sighs Holly.
She and Simon the Brits who arent continuously neck deep in substances pride themselves on keeping their composure.
But no one in the band is actually okay.
Theyre all broken, all frightened, all experts in hurting themselves or others or both.
I WANNA PLAY MUSIC!
Plenty of art has been made about the artist as egomaniacalmonolith, as genius or tyrant or lonely freak.
The torture and the elation of needing people: Music has it, and theater has it.
Yet its crucial that we dont assign bad guys and good guys in a show like this.
Gelb quietly crafts a long, aching arc with the suffering, aspiring, not-as-cool-as-hed-like-to-be engineer.
Its not really a joke it might even be a tragedy.
Or maybe it will be the best thing that ever happened.
Stereophonicis at the John Golden Theatre.
