March 29, 2017
Miss Saigon
Winnie McCroy READ TIME: 5 MIN.
Broadway returns to Vietnam this month with Cameron Mackintosh's new production of Boublil & Schonberg's "Miss Saigon," the redux show that takes Puccini's classic opera "Madama Butterfly" and sets it in April 1975, days before the fall of Saigon. While "Miss Saigon" is a lot more gritty and exploitive than its inspiration, there is a heartening love story here -- albeit one in which nearly every character ends up damaged.
The action follows American G.I.s Chris (Alistair Brammer) and John (Nicholas Christopher of "Hamilton" fame) at Dreamland, a Saigon brothel run by a seedy character known as The Engineer (Jon Jon Briones). He cuts quite an imposing figure in his purple pantsuit, and while he seems festive to the flocks of soldiers throwing wads of cash around, The Engineer is an unforgiving task-masker to his stable of prostitutes. He makes desperate women like lace-clad Gigi (Rachelle Ann Go) compete every night for the honor of being crowned Miss Saigon, then revels in the fact that he can charge more for the winner.
To this ragtag collection, he forceably adds country girl Kim (Eva Noblezada), a fresh-faced virgin fleeing from her decimated village, murdered parents, and her prearranged marriage with the opportunistic soldier Thuy (Devin Ilaw).
The Engineer sells Kim's virginity for $50 to the hulking, bullish John, who 'gifts' her to his moody friend Chris, a young, confused, and jaded soldier. He spends "a night in paradise" with the 17-year-old, and the two fall for each other. Chris tries to save Kim from the crumbing regime by marrying her. He goes through an Asian wedding ceremony, and even gets John to draft paperwork saying that the two are betrothed.
But of course, it's not meant to be. As we discover in the excellent Act II flashback sequence, the two are separated in the rush to evacuate Saigon, and Kim is left behind. What Chris doesn't know is that she's carrying his child.
Kim and The Engineer team up again in the renamed Ho Chi Minh City, and though she peddles her goods, she saves her heart for Chris and for his son Tam (alternating Jace and Suri Chen). In song after excellent song, we hear Kim bare her heart to the universe, calling out for her husband.
If one were to judge from her slight frame, they would not believe that Noblezada could belt these songs like she does. For three hours, she moves her voice from high to low on the vocal register, hitting impossible notes and wringing tears out of the audience. She is truly a powerhouse!
By now, most people have heard all the buzz (pardon the pun) about the helicopter that arrives in Act Two to airlift all American civilians, soldiers, and tens of thousands of South Vietnamese people. And rest assured, it is just as dramatic and show-stopping as you've heard, from the thumping of the propellers, to the whoosh of air from above, to the 3D-enhanced graphics, to the arrival of the actual helicopter inside the gates of the American Consulate.
The staging of this powerful scene is executed flawlessly, with the gates of the Consulate being rotated so the audience can see the pandemonium both inside and outside. The effect is cinematographic in its scope.
Eventually, The Engineer and Kim find each other again, this time in Bangkok, where he has managed to secure a position in a failing whorehouse, battling other pimps for the patronage of skinflint tourists with bargain-basement deals. He is demoralized, but keeps his eyes on his longtime prize: an American visa. He sees promise in Tam's Western features, and signs onto Kim's effort to get them to America, with him as the 'uncle.'
Unfortunately, his old customer John is in charge of the effort, and won't be duped. Kim is reunited with Chris, but by now three years have passed, and the young man has married. His blonde wife Ellen (Katie Rose Clarke) sings her heart out in several numbers, showing the sympathy to Kim's character that was not present in the cold, calculated ending of "Madama Butterfly."
But the ending remains the same, and Kim makes good on her promise that her son will be raised in America by taking herself tragically out of the equation. No one really ends up happily ever after here, but the ending is powerful nonetheless.
The singing voices and live instrumentation are the backbone of "Miss Saigon," and they are all delivered to perfection. Huge credit goes to Matt Kinley and Totie Driver for set design, which brings to life neon-glazed dens of iniquity and ramshackle huts alike. The lighting by Bruno Poet is dark and mysterious, and done excellently, and the costume design by Andreane Neofitou is flawless, from the white sheath dress Kim wears to the native costumes of the acrobatic dancers, to the red alligator pants donned by The Engineer.
And while it's amazing to see so many Asians on Broadway, it would be nicer if they all weren't portraying pimps and hookers, although Briones is truly peerless in his role as The Engineer. In a respectful nod to history, the first Act II number, "Bu Doi" pays homage to the innocent children borne of war, who they dub "the dust of the earth."
It's impossible to look at this period in American history without acknowledging the huge effect the Vietnam war had on everyone involved. "Miss Saigon" is indeed a love story, but one of the darkest and most painful on the boards today. Come see for yourself how this talented crew of actors brings it to life every night on the Great White Way.
Winnie McCroy is the Women on the EDGE Editor, HIV/Health Editor, and Assistant Entertainment Editor for EDGE Media Network, handling all women's news, HIV health stories and theater reviews throughout the U.S. She has contributed to other publications, including The Village Voice, Gay City News, Chelsea Now and The Advocate, and lives in Brooklyn, New York.
This story is part of our special report: "Tony-Nominated Shows". Want to read more? Here's the full list.