Firepower to the
People
One of the most prescient visitors to our expanding republic
was the nineteenth-century French historian Alexis de Tocqueville, whose
landmark reflections in Democracy in
America contain sharp observations on the national character, asserting:
“In America I saw the freest, most
enlightened men living in the happiest circumstances to be found anywhere
in the world, yet it seemed to me that their features were habitually veiled by
a sort of cloud. They struck me as grave and almost sad even in their pleasures.
The principle reason for this is that the former do not think about the evils they
endure, whereas the latter never stop thinking about the goods they do not
possess.”
Tocqueville’s comments on the unintended alienation stalking
the boundaries of the American Dream date from 1840. Flash-forward one hundred
and fifty years, and we find echoes in playwright Arthur Miller, poetically
accounting for the continued resonance of his classic tragedy Death of a Salesman on the occasion of
its 50th anniversary, maintaining of that play’s family, the Lomans:
“they exist in a spot that probably most Americans feel they inhabit—on the
sidewalk side of the glass looking in at a well-lighted place.”
That stubborn sense of feeling disenfranchised can easily
devolve into calls for vengeance. There have been four presidential
assassinations in America alongside numerous attempts ranging from Andrew
Jackson in 1835 to Ronald Reagan in 1981. Sites of political violence from
Washington’s Ford’s Theatre to Dallas’ Dealey Plaza stand as haunting monuments
to the darker aspects of American mythology, silent witnesses to passions
flying in the face of consensus values predicated on shared faith in liberty,
progress and perfectibility. At first glance, Sondheim and Weidman’s characters
appear the expected caricatures of dangerously disaffected extremists but
gradually elicit degrees of empathy in their common American struggles to be
acknowledged, included and effective. Their rogues’ gallery becomes an inverse
image of the very leaders they target, as if the distorted reflections in a
funhouse mirror. Reversing Lincoln’s famous hierarchy by choosing bullets over
ballots, exchanging the squeeze of a trigger for the stroke of a pen, they
nevertheless hold similar goals as their victims, seeking to translate convictions into actions, to redress wrongs, change
the country and leave their personal imprint on history.
Such dizzying rides from the margins to the center make the
metaphor of a carnival the perfect extension of national culture. Time and
space, fact and fiction, proportion and excess, and tragedy and comedy tumble
over themselves and one another like a fairground Double Ferris Wheel. The
result is equally disorienting and thrilling, a kaleidoscopic transit through
history and scrupulous dissection of the American psyche, perhaps more relevant
than ever in our saturated age of celebrity obsession, voyeuristic notoriety
and exploding social media.
The primal appeal of those familiar injunctions of the
midway—“Step Right Up!”, “Try Your Luck!”, “Test Your Strength!”,” “Grab the
Brass Ring!”, “Win a Prize1”—is in their distilling of key imperatives of American success into
playful challenges. They repeat and validate that national promise of a
bountiful land of opportunity. Urban anthropologist Bruce Caron captures that
subconscious pull of the fairground: “The carnival midway beckons us from our
sequestered modern lifestyle, challenges us to give in to our physical urges
and the thrill of vertiginous flight.”
But even such recreational attractions are informed by an awareness that
its competitions involve a fraudulent mixture of chance, skill and scam. Yet
Sondheim and Weidman’s collective assassins sincerely take their cues from
these creeds, above all pursuing the happiness they believe to be a national
birthright, creating a veritable democracy of the disillusioned. The power of Assassins lies in this core of
conventional values motivating its radical agents, who in large part cherish
the same dreams that we all do. In this respect, it is telling that Sondheim
has frequently commented on his own sense of outsider status, defining himself
as “someone who people both want to kiss and kill.” As Caron concludes, “The
midway makes us all marks.”
Team of Rivals
Stephen Sondheim. Image courtesy of Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. |
Sondheim also found a kindred spirit in Hammerstein’s
restless nature. We can trace elements of Assassins
back to the complex themes of Carousel
(1945) and the experiments of Hammerstein’s conceptual musical, Allegro (1947). While Sondheim transformed
the landscape of musicals by absorbing and giving voice to the turbulent and
fragmented decades of his maturity, there remains a strong Hammerstein legacy
in the commitments to story, character, honesty and daring which characterize
the Sondheim canon, as well as his continued attention to the genre’s
traditional concerns with empowerment and community.
Oscar Hammerstein (2nd from right) and family
beside the young Stephen Sondheim.
|
The main divergence, then, from the Rodgers and Hammerstein
model is in Sondheim and Weidman’s reaching further back to the style of the
vaudeville revue for their template. Throughout its heyday, the revue was a
panoramic format consisting of free-standing and freewheeling specialty acts
loosely bound by a central theme. In revisiting this non-linear structure, Assassins is liberated from some of the
confines of that Golden Age development of the musical play. Changes in direction, focus and tone can
occur with whiplash speed; characters and events can be presented without any
overt, uncontested point-of-view; humor and pathos can intertwine, avoiding the
traps of both sentiment and piety, while also refusing an easy cynicism.
In their overall structure and the score’s collage of period
styles, from Civil War ballads through waltzes, marches, spirituals, barbershop
quartets and Top 40 pop, Sondheim and Weidman use the world of popular
entertainment, and its associations with all types of mass art from Wild West
Shows to circus to today’s gaming industry, as a way of confronting our
cultural history, offering a montage of both passing trends and steady
constants which mutually define the American narrative. Like the best of Greek
drama, Assassins is equal parts
requiem, historical pageant, civic discourse, passion play and fertility
ritual. As a character within the show invites us:
“Listen to the
stories.
Hear it in the songs.”
About the Authors
One of the most indispensable and influential artists of the
century, Stephen Sondheim was born in New York City in 1930. He wrote the
lyrics for the Broadway musicals West
Side Story (1957), Gypsy (1959) and Do I Hear a Waltz? (1965) as well as contributing to Candide (1973). In addition to Assassins (1990, expanded 1992), his
works as composer-lyricist include A
Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1962), Anyone Can Whistle (1964), Company
(1970), Follies (1971), A Little Night Music (1973), The Frogs (1974, revised 2004), Pacific Overtures (1976), Sweeney Todd (1979), Merrily We Roll
Along (1981), Sunday in the Park with
George (1984), Into the Woods (1987), Passion (1994) and Road Show
(2008). Sondheim’s numerous honors range from eight Tony Awards including a
2008 Special Award for Lifetime Achievement in the Theatre, eight Grammys, and
the Academy Award for Best Song for Dick
Tracy (1990). He was inducted into the Theatre Hall of Fame in 1983, a
Kennedy Center Honoree for Lifetime Achievement in the Performing Arts a decade
later, and awarded the National Medal of Arts in 1996. In 1985, Sondheim
received the Pulitzer Prize for Drama for
Sunday in the Park with George, one of only eight musicals in Pulitzer
history to earn that recognition. In commemoration of his eightieth birthday,
in 2010, Broadway’s former Henry Miller’s Theatre was renamed for Stephen
Sondheim.
John Weidman |
John Weidman was born in New York City in 1946. He attended
Harvard University and Yale Law School before inaugurating his career as a
librettist, following in the footsteps of his father Jerome Weidman whose
prolific writing career included the books for the celebrated musical Fiorello! (1959, Pulitzer Prize 1960),
and I Can Get It for You Wholesale
(1962, based on Weidman’s own 1937 novel). In addition to Assassins, Weidman has collaborated with Sondheim on Pacific Overtures (1976) and Road
Show (2008), the latter evolving through several incarnations as Wise Guys (1999), Gold! and Bounce (2003),
before attaining its final form. Additionally, Weidman has written or
co-written the books for the musicals America’s
Sweetheart (1983), the Tony-winning revival of Anything Goes (1987), Big
(1996), Contact (2000), Take Flight (2007) and Happiness (2009). Further writing
credits include the landmark television series Sesame Street, to which Weidman has contributed since 1986, sharing
in a stunning sixteen Emmy Awards. From 1999 to 2009, Weidman served as
president of the Dramatists Guild of America, a position held by Sondheim from
1973 through 1981.
PlayMakers Repertory Company will conclude its Mainstage Season with the Tony Award-winning musical Assassins by Stephen Sondheim, onstage April 2-20. To purchase tickets, visit the PlayMakers website, or call (919) 962-PLAY (7529).