Review: Revisiting HAMILTON as Her-Story at Dr. Phillips Center For The Performing Arts

Sir Isaac Newton’s third law of motion states that for every action, there is an equal or opposite re-action. He may have been talking about the rules of physics, but we could take that law and apply it to a dramatic reading of HAMILTON in terms of the various binary relationships that exist within the musical itself. Much of HAMILTON rests on the relationship between two oppositional forces. Act One charters the rise of Alexander Hamilton from nothingness to greatness, while Act Two then brings him back down to earth through his own hubris and ruin. The entire libretto contains original hip-hop lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda, but also relies on the public and personal documents of its narrative era. And certain aspects of the musical story offer their own commentary about how objective facts and historical conjecture must come together to form a greater understanding of the subject of the musical. Within a binary of black and white morality, a gray area exists that allows us to understand the complexities of each character depicted.

This dramatic binary also exists between characters within the narrative itself. Consider, for example, that our main protagonist begins the story with limited options and prospects, eventually falling in love and marrying, now provided with opportunities not present before, survives a war that creates a nation, but an infidelity scandal nearly brings the entire family to ruin, and a tragedy reunites both partners before a similar tragedy befalls the spouse, with the protagonist left behind to share her husband’s story. Eliza Schuyler Hamilton (Lily Soto) effectively is our third law in motion, with Alexander (Tyler Fauntleroy) as her equal or opposite re-action. Within the dramatic arc of both characters, we see how they are afforded equal and opposite re-actions to each other. He falls in love, she falls in love. He goes off to war, she remains at home. She endures a pregnancy and bears a son, his actions later cause the son’s death. Alexander’s ambition and accomplishments earn him a place in history books, her role and relationship to him becomes a footnote. But she ends the musical with the final word, a gasp at the realization that we, the audience, have been there for her the entire time. Alexander may be the assumed protagonist of the two-act musical, but Eliza emerges as the true protagonist. This is, in effect, her story we are watching. Hidden away, overshadowed, nearly forgotten, until the end.

The dramatic binary between Eliza and Alexander can also be found in how the musical approaches the double-casting approach for key supporting characters. Characters who support Alexander in Act One – John Laurens (León Tak), Hercules Mulligan (Eddie Ortega), Marquis de Lafayette (Tevae Vontrell Shoels), and Peggy Schuyler (Nadina Hassan) – are now oppositional forces that contribute to his ruin in Act Two – Philip Hamilton, James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, and Maria Reynolds. Calling Philip Hamilton an oppositional force may be a stretch, but as his father’s son, Philip inherits the same vices and temperament that leads to his and Alexander’s deaths. Equal reactions that propelled Alexander to greatness in the musical’s first act now lead to opposite reactions to bring him down in the second. And the relationships that he built in the first act because of those characters, gradually get destroyed because of the new iterations of them in that second act. Newton’s third law would be proud, as would his unofficial fourth law: universal gravitation.

For our dramatic analysis of HAMILTON, the fourth law is found not within a main character or a double-casted supporting character. Rather, this law can be found in the quiet, unsuspecting role of The Bullet (Jasmine Clarke). The gravitation of HAMILTON is death, with the Bullet representing that universal truth of the Hamilton story: all death is inevitable. She takes no sides in the conflict, serving only as a visual reminder to key characters that their time is up. When characters interact with her directly, it signals a death either literal or figurative based upon the action that follows. For every side told in the HAMILTON story, the Bullet will always reside in the neutrality of objective truth. The Bullet becomes an exception to the binary of HAMILTON because that objective truth is needed for the audience to fully appreciate the duality of what HAMILTON’s main ethos has become: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.

All of this truly comes to a head when it’s Alexander himself who has his first real interaction with The Bullet during his fateful duel with Aaron Burr (Deon’te Goodman). The Bullet and Alexander’s first real meeting pulls him beyond the realm of the dramatic physics on that stage. While the musical has toyed with time before in “Satisfied” as it Rashomon’s Angelica’s memory of meeting Alexander, this is the only time in the musical that time literally stops. And with all the time in the world, but paradoxically still not enough, Alexander reconciles with all the decisions he has made, all the choices others have made because of him, and all the paths he will not take beyond his passing. The Bullet comes for him, allowing him this moment of reflection even as he tries to evade it, and still comes for him. She delivers the fatal blow to end his story, though we the audience still must go on and see that third law of motion continue: the re-action.

It’s here that we finally see how Eliza Schuyler Hamilton emerges as who this two-act musical is about. We’d been introduced to her solely through her relationships to others: “The Schuyler Sisters” sees her as part of a unit of sisters; “Satisfied” frames her marriage through her sister Angelica’s (Marja Harmon) sacrifice; “That Would Be Enough” explores Alexander’s reaction to her pregnancy; “Burn” shows how she literally removes herself from the narrative by self-erasure. And yet, by the end, it’s Eliza who is the last one standing on the stage. Her gasp as she looks out into the aether becomes the final word – wordless, open to interpretation, but wholly hers. The gasp breaks the fourth wall between the audience and the character, as we realize HAMILTON has consisted entirely of her memory of her husband, her family, and the world they once lived in. HAMILTON stands as Eliza’s triumph at not being forgotten, not being erased, not being the footnote to a footnote in history. HAMILTON, essentially, is her story

“What is history? History is women following behind with a bucket.” (Alan Bennett, 2004)

In all honesty, I never expected to write a HAMILTON review that barely talks about the current touring production of the stage musical until the seventh paragraph, but here we are. Dramatic binary has fascinated me for some time, as I’d been writing about the themes of identity and the self for the last few year. I blame a monthlong dive into Sartre when, after a viewing of 2023’s Barbie, I picked up a copy of “Being and Nothingness” at my bookstore. Yet binary helps bring to light the true grayness of these characters. Even if they’re presented as oppositional forces across both acts, their depictions through the book and through performance allows us to see layers to them that help us appreciate the nuance. The moral grayness exists because the definition of binary and the neutrality of an objective third space lets us see beyond mere performance and song, to better understand these characters. Also, after more than ten years of HAMILTON playing on Broadway and performing on national tours, there’s got to be more ways to talk about the musical beyond what I already wrote back in 2022.

Longtime Dr. Phillips Center patrons may remember the mad scramble to even get tickets for HAMILTON’s first run in Central Florida back in early 2019, when the musical’s popularity was arguably at its peak. That momentum has only continued since then, with the musical returning to Orlando in the fall of 2022, and now once more for three glorious weeks from September 29 through October 19. Those who manage to score tickets – either through their season subscription to Broadway in Orlando, buying at the regular prices, or among the lucky few to win the Ham4Ham $10 seat lottery – will be gifted with the same staging, set design, and lighting plan in the DPC that New York audiences have enjoyed for the past ten-plus years at the Richard Rodgers Theatre, where HAMILTON still plays to this day.

This means that the bullseye light scheme and rotating stage that becomes central to much of the show’s choreography is preserved, as well as its set that initially looks like an unfinished building but thematically also presents the foundational structure for both the story and our nation’s founding. Costumes continue to be consistent to the Hamilton look – the ensemble remain in their formfitting britches, high boots, and sleeveless vests, while the main cast and supporting characters don fuller costumes in the style of ots colonial period, although color intent changes based on which character and emotion is at play.

The cast itself continues to shine in roles that had become immortalized by the pro-shot of the Original Broadway Cast, which had been streaming on Disney+ since 2020 and received a limited theatrical release last year to celebrate the musical’s 10th anniversary. When a person is faced with a choice to either subscribe to Disney+ to watch this show or go to a theatre and buy a ticket, I more than likely would still recommend live theatre to the pro-shot. Don’t get me wrong, it’s well-shot and now preserves the original cast’s performances so has a long-lasting historical value. But as great as the proshot is, the sheer energy you see on stage and palpable empathy you feel in the audience always makes a live production worth seeing. HAMILTON was made for the theatre. Its success can be attributed to the symbiotic relationship that a cast on stage will share with its audience in the darkness. Emotions are heightened, the visceral feeling of empathy is shared, and a great cast makes one further appreciate how live theatre with human performances will always triumph over the artificiality of film. We believe the great lie of drama better in a theater than we do on a screen, largely because of that shared space allowing all those involved to feel in live time the same emotions.

HAMILTON may choose to focus on Alexander as the assumed protagonist, but greatness never thrives in a vacuum. While it might be suggested that an effective production relies entirely on spotlighting Alexander as the lead role, the binary nature of the show means for every great Alexander, we need an equally great Aaron Burr. For the sweetly maternal Eliza, we need the fiercely headstrong Angelica. For the gentle father figure of George Washington, there must also be a great buffoon in King George. And the double-casting requires that audiences believe the same performers behind Lafayette and Mulligan would love and support Alexander in Act One, then turn around and resent and distrust him as Jefferson and Madison in Act Two. HAMILTON as read through our binary lens means that each performer must have great chemistry with Alexander, yes, but also with their binary counterpart as well.

As a result of having a proshot to compare each live performance too, an audience is now asked to focus more on the nuance each performer brings to a live role compared to a preserved interpretation of the past. I would not want a newcomer to HAMILTON to do their homework of watching a proshot on Disney+ before seeing this touring production, but to rather go in blind and enjoy each artist’s rendition of their character before comparing it to the original Broadway cast.

In that way, I managed to find greater appreciation in Lily Soto’s version of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton when compared to the original Broadway performer Philippa Soo. Soo’s portrayal set the bar for other Eliza’s, who largely leaned into the heartbreak of the character’s arc. When watching Soto play out Eliza, I could sense that she still kept heartbreak at the forefront of a number like “Burn,” but also introduced a simmering, just beneath the surface, rage at her husband. Words that still emoted a deep sadness at her husband’s betrayal now were sung with a sense of controlled fury. Eliza’s choice to remove herself from the narrative by burning Alexander’s letters – evidence that could have absolved him of his infidelity – gave the character a new layer for audiences to better understand her complexity. It was Soto’s masterful performance in the role that made this particular reading of Eliza more powerful. She wasn’t just mourning a loving marriage, she was mourning who she was in that marriage, and coming out of it much stronger as a result.

Likewise, I found Marja Harmon’s approach to Angelica to be an inversion of what Renée Elise Goldsberry mastered in the role on Broadway. Goldsberry’s Angelica has long been a favorite of mine, mostly because I generally consider “Satisfied” to be the best song in the entire musical. As a result, I tend to (unfairly) judge subsequent Angelica performers to how well Goldsberry owns her role. Harmon consciously avoids trying to imitate Goldsberry’s emotional beats, giving us an Angelica that’s slightly more vulnerable than past portrayers. She leans more into that unspoken, unrequited love the character has for Alexander. It allows her version of Angelica to pine a bit more for him, while making her selfless sacrifice all the more heartbreaking. Whereas Soto imbued rage into “Burn,” Harmon turns “Satisfied” less into the “I want” song and more into an elegy for her decision. She turns the fast-paced patter in the middle of the song into a near-nervous breakdown as she fully processes her regret at her sacrifice.

When it comes to Alexander Hamilton himself, I don’t mind saying so, but Tyler Fauntleroy has a superior vocal performance to originator Lin-Manuel Miranda. His version of Alexander never sounds as strained or pitchy as Miranda’s. He sounds very much like a Broadway performer should, which I don’t mean as a slight towards Miranda, but more towards the amount of vocal control and training that Fauntleroy has. Miranda’s pitchy, higher-register sprechgesang may have its fans and can be forgivable as he is more a songwriter than a traditional Broadway vocalist. However, I found Fauntleroy’s approach to the songs – particularly the necessary chops to do “My Shot” and “The World was Wide Enough” justice – to be a much more satisfying experience in Dr. Phillips Center compared to watching Miranda’s sound-mixed, live-on-film version on Disney+. Deon’te Goodman’s Aaron Burr, on the other hand, could equally rival not just Tyler Fauntleroy on stage, but Leslie Odom, Jr. in vocals. The smoothness and the control that made Odom’s version of Burr easily the most superior voice on the cast recording has found its equal in Goodman’s performance within the touring production. Goodman also makes sure to play Burr less as Hamilton’s frenemy and more as the binary opposite to Fauntleroy’s portrayal. Both work well together to depict the complicated relationship between the two men.

Although neither Auston Henderson and Jack Bianchi share scenes together as their respective Georges, Washington and King, they both know to play diametrically opposed versions of a leader. The compassionate and paternal depiction through Henderson’s eyes helps audiences see why Hamilton and the others have all lionized George Washington as their great leader. He carries himself with such gravitas even though his role never quite gets fleshed out the way others do on stage. Bianchi, meanwhile, chews the scenery as much as he can in his three songs and minor presence in “The Reynolds Pamphlet.” He turns King George into a witless, but effusive body of hot air who still charms the audiences with his delightfully foppish nature and over-adorned costume.

There is also great delight to be found in supporting players Tevae Vontrell Shoels (Lafayette/Jefferson), Eddie Ortega (Mulligan/Madison), León Tak (Laurens/Philip), and Nadina Hassan (Peggy/Maria). These core four play dual roles across both acts, which means having to present themselves differently as each character. Shoels’ chaotic turn in “Guns and Ships” feels like the call to arms that it is, then he turns that frantic lyric-spitting into the cool and manipulative “Cabinet Battle” that makes us forget he was ever America’s favorite fighting Frenchman. Ortega’s turn as both Mulligan and Madison does mean he largely must play second fiddle to Shoels (especially in Act Two, as Madison’s pretty much second banana), but he knows how to work the comedic timing perfectly to make both characters some necessary comic relief in both acts. León Tak’s John Laurens and Philip Hamilton don’t have that same contradictory role that the other two performers have, but fulfill that binary of someone that Alexander feels compelled to look after – a young man Alexander regarded as a compatriot, and his literal son as well. The unexpected news of John Laurens’ death gets mirrored with the sheer devastation of Philip Hamilton’s death, with Tak making sure audiences wept for him both times – the courage of a hero passing, and the shock of a son taken too soon.

Lastly, the Peggy and Maria binary feels almost like an afterthought at first glance. Peggy is largely forgotten in Act Two, while Maria’s role as the who unexpectedly pulled Alexander into an affair semi-villifies her without exploring why. But therein lies its genius. Even if Peggy never became more than a footnote to a footnote in Schuyler Sister history, the love all the Schuyler Sisters felt for Alexander remains present in Act Two through Peggy’s absence and through her portrayer’s presence as the Other Woman. Love still finds a way into Alexander’s heart, as Hassan makes sure that Peggy’s unexpected absence and Maria’s unexpected presence feels genuine to each character, as their small role in Alexander’s lives still have lasting effects on those around him.

In other notable, if minor, roles is Oscar Whitney as both father Philip Schuyler, cucked husband Jaes Reynolds, and the benevolent Doctor who cannot save Philip Hamilton. Alex Dorf gets to play the delightfully out-of-touch Samuel Seabury in “Farmer Refuted,” while Wesley Valdez gets his own brief spotlight as Charles “I’m a General, Whee!” Lee, defeated in a duel, but living to tell the tale. Andre Malcolm’s George Eacker lives to tell the tale of another duel, that which befell Philip Hamilton. The ensemble of HAMILTON is stacked compared to other musicals, with Miriam Ali, Sierra Lai Barnett, Taylor Broadard, Alyssa Carol, Hayley Dorling, Elvie Ellis, Lexi Garcia-Toye, Amanda Simone Lee, Terrence Martin, Tyler McKenzie, Kevin Murakami, Michael Natt, Aisha Sougou, and Daniel Thimm rounding it out. This large complement of performers truly are the backbone of the production, making sure that the stage never feels empty, that the dances never feel like they’re missing anything, and that the voices all come together to sing aloud the name “Hamilton!”

And then there’s The Bullet. Jasmine Clarke plays the uncredited role, turning up at key moments within the ensemble’s choreography. She’s among the first rebels killed by a Redcoat, who brutally snaps her neck. Then she narrowly misses Alexander himself during the number “Stay Alive.” As the musical goes on, we see The Bullet always nearby, acting either directly with a character (helping John Laurens kill a Redcoat) or indirectly (pulling a lamplight into place for Maria Reynolds’ entrance), signifying that Death in all forms is coming. Death of a character. Death of fidelity. Death of political prospects. The Bullet’s always fascinating to watch because if you don’t know the signs to look for, you won’t expect it when she makes her final approach to Alexander. As a result, I tend to always be on the lookout in the ensemble for when the Bullet makes her first move. Jasmine Clarke knows how to stick to the choreography, but to also provide subtle hints every so often through her movement as to who she really is. One little touch I liked this time around, which I hadn’t even noticed before, was that as the Reynolds Pamphlet is getting passed around, The Bullet literally points it to Eliza up in the balcony. As if to say, this piece of paper is now the death of your happy marriage. Whether it be a first or fourth time watching HAMILTON, I always recommend any audience member keep an eye out for this silent character, the neutrally objective truth to all that exists on that stage.

The neutrally objective truth about HAMILTON simply is: if you already love it, you’ll want to revisit it at Dr. Phillips Center. But the subjective truth I would like readers to come away from is this: even if you’re experiencing it for the first time, that should not be your only time. Across the last ten years, I’ve experienced HAMILTON enough times to look for more than a surface level reading of “Think you know about the Founding Fathers? Think again.” It’s to an audience’s member’s benefit to return time and again to familiar stories and come away with a new reading every time. What makes shows like these endure is not just the immense popularity. There’s a literate nature to the best of stories that invites new readings, new interpretations, and new voices to emerge with every retelling. Every new touring company gets to find their own renditions of the dramatic binary of HAMILTON within the very successful framework that Miranda created. They’re not on that stage to replace the performances that came before. They’re there to find a new dynamic to these characters that we can add to the mythos of great storytelling.

Whether a Central Florida resident chooses to watch HAMILTON locally at Dr. Phillips Center or trek up to Broadway for the exact same show, the importance is they’re seeing a show worth the journey. The staging may be familiar, the set may look exactly as it has for years, and the choreography may hit all the same marks, but the people inside those costumes are different. Their choices when performing these roles gives us new ways to look at these characters, just as the musical itself gives us new ways to look at people we thought we knew from history. We can still preserve the factual story, but the interpretation can, and should, change every time. After everything we’ve watched, who truly gets to decide what this story means? HAMILTON leaves that question hanging in the air, just as it has from the beginning. The history may belong to Alexander, but the telling belongs to everyone he left behind. And, with that one final breath, he left it all to Eliza.

HAMILTON plays at the Dr. Phillips Center September 29 through October 19. Tickets can be acquired online or at the box office, pending availability.

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