Review: THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME Rings Out at PMT

Despite twenty years of creative refinement, and one of the finest scores of the Disney Renaissance, it's possible that The Hunchback of Notre Dame is simply never going to be a perfect show. It's certainly not as impeccably constructed as Beauty and the Beast, which is nearly foolproof as a theatrical product. Perhaps Hunchback is a textbook "director's show," like Chess, Godspell or so many others, where a dedicated and passionate creative team must elevate what exists on the page in a seemingly incomplete form. There is much to praise and much to enjoy in this collaboration between Pittsburgh Musical Theater and Robert Morris University, but much more comes from the talented cast or from Ken Gargaro and Colleen Dyno as directors than comes from the show itself.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which draws its inspiration from the Victor Hugo novel and its musical score from the Alan Menken/Stephen Schwartz collaboration begun for the cult classic Disney film, tells the now-timely story of Renaissance-era Paris, when the gypsy foreigners were perpetually at odds with the political and religious government of France. Gypsy dancer Esmeralda (Emily Lynne Miller), who is possibly a prostitute but certainly not a witch, is caught in a web between four different men: her protector and father figure, gypsy king Clopin (Nathaniel Burich); cocky French soldier Phoebus (Javier Manente); Dom Claude Frollo (Allan Snyder), the hypocritical pastor of the cathedral of Notre Dame; and Frollo's nephew Quasimodo (Quinn Patrick Shannon), the hunchbacked and psychologically stunted bellringer.

With a gorgeous score and a story ripped from the pages of legendary French novelist Victor Hugo, Hunchback should be an unqualified success, like Hugo's other musical adaptation, Les Miserables. So what's the problem? It seems that, though much has been improved from the only fitfully brilliant Disney animated version, something is still lost in translation. Perhaps the problem is Stephen Schwartz, who possesses an unfortunate fondness for one of the less-gripping subgenres: story theatre. In story theatre (see Schwartz's other musicals, Godspell, Pippin, Children of Eden and the first few minutes of Wicked), the ensemble and individual characters act as both performers and narrators. Rather than show, they tell, and the form substitutes the power of storytelling for the power of dramatic portrayal. The Off-Broadway production of Hunchback veered more heavily into story theatre than any other Schwartz show, with individual performers and a chanting ensemble both quoting liberally from Hugo's evocative but not especially dramatically compelling prose. Thankfully, Gargaro and Dyno have trimmed away a huge chunk of this excess, allowing the drama to play out as drama, not a combination pageant and recitation.

Of the five central performers, local favorite Quinn Patrick Shannon steals the show as Quasimodo. His body language is both energetic and restrained by physical hindrances and tics, and his voice rings out beautifully when singing in soliloquy, then grinds haltingly when speaking to another human being. Quasimodo is a difficult role to interpret: silent film legend Lon Chaney played him as a feral, animalistic brute, nearly losing eyesight under the extensive prosthetics; the original Disney film's Tom Hulce played Quasimodo as a shy savant, crippled in body but brilliant in mind; Deaf West mastermind Michael Arden played Quasimodo Off-Broadway as both deaf and having what appeared to be Down's Syndrome (a not entirely inappropriate conclusion based on the novel). Taking a middle path between Hulce and Arden, Shannon's Quasimodo is taciturn and awkward, exhibiting physical and social signs of being on the autism spectrum. As he opens up and blossoms, he is heartwarming. As he shuts down and withdraws, he is heartbreaking.

Allan Snyder, as Frollo, creates a fascinating villain, though one could argue it's not necessarily Hugo's (or Disney's) Dom Claude Frollo. Snyder's Frollo is younger, more virile and more apparently conflicted than the aging, sexually frustrated and completely sociopathic Frollo most famously played by the late Tony Jay. On the one hand, this gives Snyder significantly more layers to play as his Frollo shows glimmers of the possibility of redemption, as well as moments in which he almost seems like a possible suitor, rather than a repellent one, for Esmeralda. On the other hand, though pure villains are often a thing of melodrama, Frollo is robbed of some of his power when clothed in shades of grey. This is a man who advocates genocide and hunting of the poor for sport, who attempts repeatedly to coerce a helpless woman for sex, and who keeps his own handicapped nephew as a slave and allows him to be whipped by an angry mob. If one applies too much moral ambivalence and crisis of conscience to Frollo, the supreme irony of his legendary villain song, "Hellfire," is lost: Frollo blames everyone else for his sins, holding himself as "a righteous man." Maybe Snyder and the directors did all they could to prevent Frollo from seeming to be a hackneyed Donald Trump metaphor, and created a somewhat different character in the process.

As Esmeralda, Emily Lynne Miller is suitably fiery and sensual, bringing passion to the gypsy dancer's numerous presentational performances. Her pop-inflected voice is an unusual, but pleasant, fit for the more aria-like, almost Bernsteinesque, ballads, particularly "Someday." As her admirer Phoebus, Javier Manente acquits himself with a beautiful tenor voice, though his singing is more natural than his book scenes. Nathaniel Burich, as Clopin, has both the least to do and the biggest shoes to fill. Onscreen, and in the original German-language edition of the Menken/Schwartz musical, Clopin is a main character and narrator, popping up again and again throughout the film. Onstage, he is a supporting character who gives the opening and closing line of the show, but does not dominate the event. This may be because the Clopin role for the film was designed around Broadway countertenor Paul Kandel, whose vocal range ran from a deep bass to an impossibly high quasi-soprano; the film famously ended with Kandel holding a sustained, full-voiced high D for nearly thirty seconds. Vocalists like that are once in a lifetime, and shows that require such a feat will not be produced often.

Though Hunchback is a decidedly imperfect show, it's hard to imagine a more perfect production, complete with large cast, large orchestra and an onstage choir augmenting the singing. In these days of political strife, turmoil and suspicion, shows like Cabaret preach a nihilistic message that all hope is lost and there is no good left to do. This show gives an alternative: maybe things are bad today, but there is hope. We can do what is right and defend the oppressed, and someday the world will change. It's a worthwhile message, and a beyond worthwhile evening at the theatre.

To post a comment, you must register and login.