I saw Spring Awakening for the first time at the Winspear, by a touring company, several years ago. I was bowled over by its frailty and rage, it’s raw, broken, lost eroticism and celebratory explosions, its frank and grim, yet earnest search for the actual in a world drowning in duplicity. Since then I have seen numerous productions throughout the DFW Metroplex, and some (I regret to say) I missed. I was relieved and grateful that none saw fit to succumb to censorship, which, considering the narrative, would have been especially egregious. Essentially, Spring Awakening’s a musical about the calamity we risk, when neglecting sexual guidance in the midst of aimless, urgent adolescence. The parents’ comfort zone is their children’s downfall. Moritz, best friend of anti-hero Melchior, bemoans the intrusive fantasies that make it impossible to focus on his studies. His grievances culminate in “The Bitch of Living,” an angry, funny, paean to the chaos of libido gone haywire and the need to blow off steam. The young men stomp and shout and add their anecdotes from the land of pounding pulse and demanding daydreams.
In the spirit of transparency I asked to review Spring Awakening, and Southern Methodist University was kind enough to comp me, knowing I couldn’t post till after the show closed. The last Sunday matinee was packed and I felt fortunate to be there, though we lost some audience at the interval. It’s that kind of show. Based on Frank Wedekind’s drama written in the 18th century, it’s not all exaggerating to describe this piece as (among other things) profoundly disturbing, unflinchingly honest and dangerous. Young women who must sort through abuse and molestation in the context of cruel neglect. Young men who cannot discuss even fundamental solutions with their dads. Utter subjugation to the disgusting whims of any adult. In the song, “You’re totally fucked,” Melchior shouts the repugnant truth of the title. “You’re fucked all right, and it’s all for spite, you can kiss your sorry ass goodbye.” What makes adults powerful is their superior skill at lying.
Directed by Blake Hackler, SMU Meadows’ recent production of Spring Awakening was a revelation. When the same show pops up, all over the same community, each theatre (naturally) brings its own unique spin to the proceedings. There was something about Hackler’s interpretation (along with Scenic Designer Sarah Harris and Choreographer Emily Bernet) that felt more defiant, more fanciful, more intuitive, than any I’d seen recently. In Bernet’s dance numbers, we see heterocentrist crossover to same-gender sexuality, an easy intimacy between the characters, a bone-deep frustration that comes off in waves. Harris’ set expounded a controlled chaos, familiar and yet unbalanced. Hackler’s choices were audacious and electrifying, the anger and despondency palpable, the performances intoxicating and poignant. He, and his young volcanic cast, et al, created a powerful, overwhelming experience that rises above the sum of its parts. This brave incarnation of Spring Awakening is one I’ll never forget.
SMU Meadows Division of Theatre presented Spring Awakening, which closed September 30th, 2018. Greer Garson Theatre, 6101 Bishop Blvd, Dallas, Texas 75205. (214) 768-2787 www.smu.edu/Meadows
It was a pleasure telling this story and I know myself and the rest of the cast are thrilled you enjoyed it!