Illinoise Broadway Reviews

At the Armory, I found “Illinoise” not only sentimental but downright whimsical. It was intriguing to see three singers walk out on stage wearing enormous fairy wings (costumes by Reid Bartelme and Harriet Jung). Only later did I realize that the...

At the Armory, I found “Illinoise” not only sentimental but downright whimsical. It was intriguing to see three singers walk out on stage wearing enormous fairy wings (costumes by Reid Bartelme and Harriet Jung). Only later did I realize that they were moth wings, because “Illinoise,” with its book by Justin Peck and Jackie Sibblies Drury, is a coming-of-age story. The dancers on stage can be seen as human caterpillars that blossom into human moths. “Illinoise” could be called “Metamorphosis,” but the songs come from Sufjan Stevens’ 2005 concept album, “Illinois.” The switch from that original title to “Illinoise” is not a typo. Chalk it up to the change being another metamorphosis, using the spelling seen on the album’s stylized cover, which read “Come on feel the Illinoise.” Beyond “sentimental,” the other word to describe “Illinoise” is “precious.”

“Illinoise” is far from a typical Broadway show, and if you’re headed to this 90-minute piece, be aware that you are in for a sensorial experience primarily, even if the emotional underpinning of Peck’s work occasionally reaches out from the ...

“Illinoise” is far from a typical Broadway show, and if you’re headed to this 90-minute piece, be aware that you are in for a sensorial experience primarily, even if the emotional underpinning of Peck’s work occasionally reaches out from the stage and grabs your heart. The piece sits very comfortably in the St. James Theatre, a more intimate venue than “Illinoise” enjoyed either in Chicago or on Park Avenue. It’s not a show for all tastes but it certainly makes the case that it belongs on Broadway.

Without a word of spoken dialogue, the show pulls us into late adolescence, a time when love, anguish and everything in between are felt perhaps with the greatest intensity. The book co-written by director-choreographer Peck and Drury (who won the 20...

Without a word of spoken dialogue, the show pulls us into late adolescence, a time when love, anguish and everything in between are felt perhaps with the greatest intensity. The book co-written by director-choreographer Peck and Drury (who won the 2019 Pulitzer Prize for Drama with her brilliant meta-theatrical race inquiry, Fairview) is skillfully shaped yet invisible in the best sense of undiluted physical, sensorial and elemental storytelling.

Peck’s choreography is as marvelous as it is moving. Several dance motifs repeat, a nod to the theme of memory and haunting. Often these are tied to characters, like Carl and Henry’s balance-beam swaggering and swaying, or the side-by-side swing-...

Peck’s choreography is as marvelous as it is moving. Several dance motifs repeat, a nod to the theme of memory and haunting. Often these are tied to characters, like Carl and Henry’s balance-beam swaggering and swaying, or the side-by-side swing-inspired dance and handshake of Henry, Carl, and Shelby. Peck’s choreography is decidedly modern, but his ballet background informs the work, with long-line leg extensions at classic angles and a flurry of precisely-spotted spins and turns.

There is near total overlap with the queer love story, involving Ben Cook as Carl, Henry’s small town friend and first love; Gaby Diaz as Shelby, Carl’s first love; and Ahmad Simmons as Douglas, Henry’s big-city mature love. If love suffuses th...

There is near total overlap with the queer love story, involving Ben Cook as Carl, Henry’s small town friend and first love; Gaby Diaz as Shelby, Carl’s first love; and Ahmad Simmons as Douglas, Henry’s big-city mature love. If love suffuses the tale, it is as much about risk, adventure, loss and grief. This overwhelming jumble of emotions is expressed through an impressive synthesis of classical, modern and street choreography, accompanying an eclectic and pleasing mix of orchestral music, jazz, electronica, indie folk-rock – and sounds in-between.

There is not a word of dialogue in Illinoise, but this hybrid production fusing dance and music accomplishes far more than mere words can express. Inspired by Sufjan Stevens’ groundbreaking concept album, Illinois, choreographer Justin Peck came up...

There is not a word of dialogue in Illinoise, but this hybrid production fusing dance and music accomplishes far more than mere words can express. Inspired by Sufjan Stevens’ groundbreaking concept album, Illinois, choreographer Justin Peck came up with his own theatrical concept. With Jackie Sibblies Drury as co–book writer, they crafted a narrative that translates the emotional import of Stevens songs into a unique language that can best be described as poetry in motion.

There’s no denying that Illinoise is effective, a large billboard on Adam Rigg’s industrial-slash-forest set announcing the title as well as other information. It may be that longtime Stevens fans need only hear the material they love now present...

There’s no denying that Illinoise is effective, a large billboard on Adam Rigg’s industrial-slash-forest set announcing the title as well as other information. It may be that longtime Stevens fans need only hear the material they love now presented as dance to carry on about it. But providing the cherished songs with a connecting plot hasn’t necessarily resulted in an instantly graspable tale.

At the Armory, those same stories felt monumental — a revolt of mighty compassion against a cruel, suffocating world. And now, as Ilinoise settles in on Broadway, Peck has found a harmony between those two modes, hitting on a beautiful alchemy of p...

At the Armory, those same stories felt monumental — a revolt of mighty compassion against a cruel, suffocating world. And now, as Ilinoise settles in on Broadway, Peck has found a harmony between those two modes, hitting on a beautiful alchemy of personal warmth and epic scale.