Review: MAD Theatre of Tampa AIDA at the Shimberg Playhouse

Everyone has a favorite Elton John song.  Ask anyone and they probably won’t even hesitate to tell you their selection:  Maybe “Tiny Dancer,” a song impossible not to sing along with in your own version of carpool karaoke?  Or how about the lost-in-space gem, “Rocket Man”?  Maybe they’ll choose anything on the epic double LP, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (in the running to my ears with Songs in the Key of Life, Led Zepplin IV or Dark Side of the Moon as greatest album of the 1970s)?  Lest we should forget the survivor of “I’m Still Standing” or Elton as the chosen music mourner of “Candle in the Wind,” an ode to Marilyn Monroe and, later, Princess Diana?  My vote goes to the underrated “Grey Seal,” though my favorite as an angst-ridden kid was “Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding.”

If you were lucky enough to be a child of the 1970s, then you, like me, followed one of the two pop music gods who infiltrated the radios and the zeitgeist during that amazing decade: glam rocker David Bowie and the “Liberace of Pop,” Mr. Elton John.  Both musical artists were highly theatrical, creating personas that mirrored the ever-changing sensibilities of the audience.  As a child and a young teen, I picked Elton John as my ideal; I wore out vinyl copies of Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road before I even hit puberty.  (For the record, it was in college where I discovered the otherworldly splendor of David Bowie.)

While Bowie would don personas as easily as he would change clothes, Elton was always just…Elton.  Although labeling him as “just Elton” is a misnomer because he was so outrageously hammy and fun-as-fireworks onstage.  Still, unlike the chameleon Bowie, who would quickly bop from personality to personality, always on the edge, always different—Elton evolved over time, both with his showmanship and his music.  But he never “played” a different role.  His flamboyance—especially during the “Bennie and the Jets” era—found him donning sequins, ostrich feathers, always with those oversized glasses.  He would parade around in various outrageous costumes—the Statue of Liberty, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and even Donald Duck—but at the end of the day, he was still just Elton John pounding away on the grand piano, playing those 1970s pop masterpieces that he created with Bernie Taupin.

Elton helped shaped the last fifty years musically, so I find it perplexing that we get so fixated on him as a pop icon and we forget that he has also built quite a legacy as a composer for the stage and screen.  Not many of Broadway’s greatest can boast the success that he has had creating some of musical theatre’s most memorable scores: The Lion King (his biggest hit); the spirited and endearing Billy Elliott; the doomed Tammy Faye; the will-it-ever-make-it-to-Broadway Devil Wears Prada; and lastly, of course, Aida. 

Aida is in the Top-40 of longest running shows in Broadway history (it currently ranks in 39th place).  Its eclectic score ranges from the reggae-fueled “Another Pyramid” to the gospelized “The Gods of Nubia.”  “My Strongest Suit” has an early Sixties girl-group vibe to it: The Crystals or Martha and the Vandellas.    African music emerges in some numbers while other songs seem to fit the poppy vaults of Elton John; “Not Me,” “Elaborate Lives,” “Written in the Stars” and “A Step Too Far” sound like he could have sung any one of them on one of his albums.  Rarely has one composer dived into so many styles and from so many different cultures in a single musical theatre score, at least years before Lin-Manuel Miranda.

Having just seen MAD Theatre of Tampa’s production of Aida at the Shimberg Playhouse in the Straz Center, I can’t get some of those Elton John hooks out of my head.  The show—with music by Mr. John, lyrics by Tim Rice, and a book by Linda Woolverton, Robert Falls and David Henry Hwang--is a pop retelling of the classic Verdi opera.  It follows that familiar plotline of a Nubian princess named Aida, enslaved in Egypt, who falls in love with an Egyptian general, Radames.  Add to that the general’s budding bride and threatening father as well as Aida’s captured father, and when the proverbial you-know-what hits the fan, it all ends tragically if not melodically. 

The well-directed MAD production boasts some tremendous songs, a great live band, and two of the best lead performances I have seen in a long while, but it’s also not cohesive. Mike Buckner’s elevated set is minimal, which works well for the immersive Shimberg Playhouse, but it could be utilized even more in the staging.  Oftentimes it seems like we’re waiting quite a bit for the cool numbers to happen (and showstoppers like “The Gods of Nubia,” beautifully realized here, make the wait well worthwhile). 

But the show is also shrouded in darkness, as if we’ve accidentally ventured into a staging of Dracula.  I wondered why the lighting design (credited to Joshua Eberhart) was so dim so often.  Was it to make it look like the stage had been bathed in candlelight, a la Barry Lyndon?  Or is it so that we can better visualize director Nathan Daugherty and Niomi Collard’s quality projections?  Whatever the reason, the low lighting kept the show from having the keen contrast that tech elements can bring, especially early on. It made me squint often and, though it occasionally made sense (as when a lone performer was onstage singing), the effect turned out frustrating rather than meaningful.  Perhaps it would have been best to hold off on the dim lighting until the very end, where the shroud of perpetual darkness—death—really works on the fate of the lovers.

But then there are the performances, and this is where this production really takes off. 

As Aida, Patty Smithey could not be better.  She stands so tall, proud, stoic, noble, with eyes that pierce the soul.  Yet she also makes the part so relatable, so human, full of passion and desperate fury.  And that voice! When Ms. Smithey sings, it’s as if the world and all of its outside problems suddenly evaporates and we sit there, daring not to breathe; we want the moment to keep on going, to keep hearing that amazing voice. 

I have had the pleasure of seeing Ms. Smithey in numerous productions over the years, sometimes as the lead (Ariel in The Little Mermaid), sometimes as a supporting lead (Lorrell in Dreamgirls), and, in the case of Hairspray at CWP, as a Dynamite and ensemble member.  As I have mentioned before, she has that special “it,” that star quality, and it’s put to perfect use here.  Part Beyonce, part Jennifer Hudson, part Aretha and Patti, all rolled into one actress/singer.  She pushes herself to the next level with this performance, and the audience won’t soon forget such stunning work. 

If Ms. Smithey’s portrayal of Aida was not enough, there is another performance here that is just as strong, just as much of a marvel: Paige Alter as Amneris. The moment she sang the show’s first lines in the song “Every Story is a Love Story,” I sprang up at attention in my seat, knowing that somebody had brought their A-game to the stage.  I wrote in my notebook: “What pipes! What a way to open the show!”  In "My Strongest Suit," she looks fashionable like an Egyptian Evita. When she sings a heartbreaking solo in Act 2 (“I Know the Truth”), it becomes a real diva’s lament.  Ms. Alter has appeared on local stages before, and her work here is exemplary, like an explosion of talent the moment she starts singing. 

With Ms. Alter and Ms. Smithey leading the way, we know that we are in good hands.

The immensely talented David Russell plays Radames, and it takes a long while to warm to his character, obviously by design.  He holds nothing back, and you sense the smoldering passion he has for his fated lover, a passion that’s ultimately unleashed, making his unbridled love scenes with Aida particularly strong.  And he has a fine singing voice, sometimes on the verge of sounding just like Elton John himself, especially in songs like “Not Me”; was this by design?

Luis Graham, quite strong, makes the most of the part of Radames’ dad, Zoser, and the likable Stephen Mikell, Jr. has his moments as Mereb, Radames’ servant.  Christian M. Mclaurine brings so much life to the stage as Amonasro; we just wish the role was even bigger to suit his talents.    

Stu Sanford makes for a particularly imposing Pharaoh, hovering above the rest of the cast, his voice booming in the intimate surroundings.  Donned in a white suit and wearing a dazzling headpiece, he looks more odd than regal, as if Col. Sanders had decided to raid Rupaul’s closet. 

The entire cast carries so much talent and verve to the various musical numbers and to Nethaneel Williams’ choreography, all of it quite tight. 

The ensemble harmonizes amazingly, thanks to music director David Estevez, and they help pulsate the show to life, including Alexis Manfredy, Ayden Cotiere, Eboni Graham, Gabriela Johnson, Kelsey Lopez, Natalia Isabel Cotto, Taylor Hendershot and especially the marvelous Jo Marshall.  “The Gods of Nubia,” the show’s best number, is an incredible way to end Act 1.  We forgive any lapses in pace or any misgivings of the show with a song this spine-tingling stellar.

The small band (featuring Nico Remy, Dan Mockensturm, Julia Ford and Alex Pasut) sounds quite full and never drowns out the actors, an issue we’ve seen in past musical productions at the Shimberg. The sound overall worked well, with very few if any mic issues, thanks to sound designer Niomi Collard. Katy Mann’s costumes suit the show and dazzle when necessary.

Director Nathan Daugherty guides Aida with a sure hand and makes some strong directorial choices, especially with the actors.  My main qualms were the show’s pace and dim lighting, which have already been duly noted.  I enjoyed the pre-show: As the audience ventured to their seats, the cast entered the Egyptian museum and walked about, admiring the costume on display; there were even museum announcements thrown in for good measure.  Watching Aida, even with some of the questionable choices, you can tell that this director not just  knows the show, or is even merely passionate about bringing the story to life, but that the work is in his DNA, and you can tell that his vast love for it has seeped from him…to the stage…ultimately to the audience.   

Elton John’s Aida score was stuck in my head as I headed home after the show.  It still is. But with those two golden-voiced performers leading the way—Patty Smithey and Paige Alter—I have no problems with the catchy soundtrack being stuck there.  You need to make it a point to venture to the Shimberg and witness these two dynamos who scorch the stage with their vocals and make us feel lucky to be able to witness such stirring talent in our midst.  They are not to be missed. 

MAD Theatre of Tampa’s Aida runs thru June 22nd in the Straz Center’s Shimberg Playhouse.

Photo Credit: Keith Burns     

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