Review: THE OUTSIDERS: A NEW MUSICAL at Ohio Theatre

There appeared to be a serious breach of theatre etiquette in the March 17 production of THE OUTSIDERS at Ohio Theatre (37 E. State Street in downtown Columbus).

In the middle of Pony Boy’s reading of the famous “Stay Gold” letter, the emotional pivot point of the show, someone in row CC chuckled. Heads turned. People glared but then said nothing. Both women caught each other weeping and looked away.

Almost 60 years after its creation, THE OUTSIDERS  (which runs March 17-22) is still capable of producing that kind of reaction.

THE OUTSIDERS is the equivalent of having lightning strike the same spot … three times. The S.E. Hinton-penned book in 1967 is still an ELA staple close to 60 years later. The 1983 Francis Ford Coppola movie served as a launching pad for Tom Cruise, Patrick Swayze, Rob Lowe, and others. Forty years after the movie, it captured four Tony Awards as a musical in 2024 .

Thanks to the standout performances of the cast, a brilliant, moving score by Jamestown Revival (Jonathan Clay and Zach Chance) and Justin Levine and strategically sparse staging, THE OUTSIDERS still delivers an emotional sucker punch.

You can’t move a plank of plywood on that stage without running into a standout performance. The doomed trio of Ponyboy Curtis (Nolan White), Johnny Cade (Bonale Fambrini), and Dallas Winston (Tyler Jordan Wesley), only one of whom makes to the end of the show, leave the deepest mark. White, a believable 15-year-old, brings a smooth tenor voice to the score. Fambrini and Wesley use their expression, delivery, and physicality to  pull the audience in.

The Brothers Curtis, Darrel (Travis Roy Rogers) and Sodapop (Corbin Drew Ross) complete Ponyboy’s family. Rogers captures the conflicting emotions of a 20-year-old forced to provide for his two orphaned brothers. As the slow-witted Soda Pop, Ross provides most of the comic relief in the two-act, three-hour show.

Emma Hearn (Cherry Valance), Jaydon Nget (Two-Bit), and Mark Doyle (Bob) headline the cast’s supporting players. The only downside to THE OUTSIDERS is its portrayal of the Socs. The upper crust antagonists are fine actors, but their characters aren’t fully developed as the Greasers are. The audience sees why the Greasers are the way they are. With the Socs, they convey entitlement and evil, but the audience doesn’t see why.  The end result is they are the cookie cutter villains of every John Hughes movie.

THE OUTSIDERS succeeds where other musicals fail: the soundtrack. Often I can’t remember a single song from a show four minutes after curtain call. THE OUTSIDERS is chockful of songs that are not only hummable but unforgettable. “Great Expectations” is the cornerstone piece but “Tulsa ’67,” “Throwing in the Towel,” “Hopeless War,” and many others also shoulder the weight of the show.

Another factor in THE OUTSIDERS is the elegance of the understated scenery. Productions like THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA and FROZEN use sets that can overshadow the performers on stage. This production has a less-is-more philosophy. Wooden planks and tires are transformed into trains and fountains; cars double as queen-sized beds. In one vignette, a table is tilted sideways to symbolize Pony Boy getting knocked unconscious.

That being said, the touring production does have some stellar special effects. Using orange and red lighting, a church appears to burst into flame, and a simulated rainstorm creates an eerie backdrop to the climactic fight scene.

Playwright Adam Rapp credits Dillon for the monsoon moment. In the movie, Dillon convinced Coppola not to postpone the fight scene because of rain. The end result was a muddy slugfest where viewers couldn’t tell the Socs from the Greasers.

The original choreographers Rick and Jeff Kupperman carried the concept to the musical version. The production recreated the monsoon, the confusion, and the poignant symbolism of that scene.

While the audience is not hit by the stage’s raindrops, there were quite a few wet cheeks by the show’s climax. THE OUTSIDERS reminds its audience of one simple rule: feel it—and don’t apologize.