REVIEW: Titanic: The Musical

Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

From April 17-20 at the Power Center for the Performing Arts, the School of Music, Theatre & Dance gave a hauntingly beautiful performance of Titanic: The Musical. Alongside Twelfth Night, which was performed earlier in the school year, this production was among my favorite shows of the year and served as a powerful conclusion to the 2024-2025 SMTD season. Everything from the dancing, singing, and acting under the direction of André Garner was exceptionally impressive and truly highlighted the tragedy of the Titanic through compelling storytelling.

Though the movie and musical premiered at similar times, the plot of the musical has no connection to the film. Instead, the stage production is based on a book by Peter Stone, with music and lyrics composed by Maury Yeston. Unlike the movie, which focuses on just a few protagonists, the musical captures the story of an entire ensemble of characters, each with unique personalities and socioeconomic backgrounds. The show does an amazing job showcasing the different passengers’ dreams and motivations for boarding the ship. One aspect of the plot I loved was that, despite their differences, many characters share a common thread: a deep love or devotion for another person. This made me feel more connected to the characters and intensified the emotional weight of the story.

There’s so much to praise about this production—the set design consisted of dark metal frames that created an industrial aesthetic contrasting sharply with the grandeur described by the passengers. I also appreciated the thoughtful use of accents, including British, Irish, and American, which reinforced the historical context and helped clarify class distinctions for the audience. 

The key characters that stood out to me were Thomas Andrews, the ship’s builder; Captain Edward J. Smith, a veteran captain who planned for the Titanic to be his final voyage; J. Bruce Ismay, the wealthy villain behind the tragedy; Isidor and Ida Straus, an elderly couple whose loyalty and enduring romance were unforgettable; and Frederick Barrett, a poor yet charismatic worker in the boiler room.

What stood out to me about Andrews (played by Sutton Kaylor), Captain Smith (played by Landon Wouters), and Ismay (played by Drew Perez Harris) was how their character dynamics were shaped by class and power struggles, and how the tension between just these three characters became the driving force behind the tragedy. Their interactions emphasized how the ambition and greed of a few individuals in power can lead to negligence and disaster. This is most powerfully captured in the number “The Blame,” which musically illustrates their anger, helplessness, and unwillingness to take responsibility.

In contrast, what moved me most about Isidor and Ida Straus was how their love transcended the panic and despair of the situation. Their duet in Act II, “Still,” beautifully expressed their unwavering commitment to one another and served as a powerful symbol of selflessness and hope in the face of death.

The number with the most striking choreography was “Barrett’s Song,” in which Barrett (played by Jason Mulay Koch) sings about a letter to his beloved, whom he left behind to work aboard the ship. The staging of this number featured the boiler room workers performing a physically demanding dance, incorporating flips, extended ballet spins, and synchronized movements that mirrored the intensity and labor of their environment. It was both graceful and raw, and it heightened my excitement for the rest of the musical numbers.

However, what left the deepest impression on me was the final number in Act II, “Finale.” In this solemn closing, the survivors deliver spoken lines that recount real historical facts about the Titanic—including the dreadful imagery of victims’ bodies found among the icebergs and their screams echoing in the darkness, details I never could have imagined. The blend of emotional narration and chilling facts made the conclusion both gut-wrenching and unforgettable, leaving me with a heavy heart as I exited the Power Center.

Overall, this heart-wrenching story and visually stunning production was genuinely awe-inspiring. I will always remember the bittersweet beauty of this musical—its fantastic choreography, breathtaking vocals, and vivid retelling of one of the most infamous tragedies in history. It’s a story that highlights both the devastating consequences of human pride and the enduring power of love, making it an emotionally complex and unforgettable theatrical experience.

REVIEW: Mary Poppins

I had fond feelings but not much memory of Mary Poppins (1964), so when the Michigan Theatre showed this iconic, classic film, I was excited to re-explore the magical wonders and musical adventures the movie took me on in elementary school. At first, I feared the story would be too childish to enjoy, but I had a rather pleasant experience even as an adult.

The story takes place in early 20th-century London and around Jane and Michael Banks, the troublesome and ill-mannered children of George and Winifred Banks. Though wealthy and of respectable status, George and Winifred are emotionally distant parents. After Jane and Michael keep chasing away the nannies Winifred hires, George decides to take matters into his own hands and find the strictest nanny possible. Against his expectations, Mary Poppins arrives and immediately captures the innocent hearts of Jane and Michael with her rosy cheeks, magic items, and mysterious background. With Bert, a cheerful and kind street musician who works multiple odd jobs, Mary Poppins brings the children on unimaginable journeys while instilling discipline and moral principles through fun songs. Though written for children, the musical quality and melody of the songs in Mary Poppins, such as “A Spoonful of Sugar,” “Feed the Birds,” and the legendary “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” captivate audiences of all ages.

I was most surprised by Mary Poppins’ stoic, strict, and prideful personality because I imagined a nanny to possess a more soft-spoken and gentle quality. However, actress Julie Andrews’ portrayal of confidence and quiet kindness brought to life the perfect nanny for Jane and Michael, who did not have a consistent adult figure in their lives. In contrast to Mary’s authoritative demeanor, Dick Van Dyke’s character, Bert, is goofy and nurturing in his own way. His Cockney accent and regular fourth-wall-breaking antics bring a lighthearted energy and make each scene more immersive.

I can see why this movie made such a deep impression on me as a kid. For younger audiences, Mary Poppins is a film that fosters imagination in the mundane scenes of daily life, inspires hope for a more exciting future career, and helps children identify the simpler joys in even doing chores. On the other hand, for adult viewers, this movie serves as an example of good parenthood and an exploration of family dynamics, specifically highlighting how misunderstandings and emotional neglect can influence children. This thematic element encourages adult viewers to evaluate the method and significance of nurturing emotional bonds within their own families.

Although the storytelling starts strong while setting the scene and introducing the main characters, the plot grows frustratingly slow without much character development or world-building, which is when I had to remind myself that children are the target audience. Even though this movie does not demand a re-watch, Mary Poppins deserves its name as a beloved classic and enjoyed best as a leisurely, nostalgic experience.

REVIEW: Wicked

After several disappointing movie-musical adaptations in recent years, I was skeptical that Wicked would be any different. As the first musical I had ever seen, and on Broadway in New York no less, I had especially high expectations. However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the hype surrounding the movie was justified. Under the guidance of director Jon M. Chu, with a talented main cast including Ariana Grande (Glinda), Cynthia Erivo (Elphaba), and Jonathan Bailey (Fiyero), Wicked offered a refreshing take with a charm that still retained the essence of the Broadway play that sparked my love for musical theatre.

Based on Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked, the story is a prequel to The Wizard of Oz. The main character, Elphaba, grows up experiencing hardships due to her unusual green skin. Ostracized by even her own family, she is nonetheless loved by her nanny. Because of this, she grows up with a pure heart. When she sends her younger sister to Shiz University, Elphaba catches the eye of Madame Morrible, played by Michelle Yeoh. Morrible is a famous magical history professor and the object of admiration for Glinda, a beautiful and popular girl who has lived a life essentially the opposite of Elphaba’s. As the story progresses, it explores the complex relationship between the two women. Their character development is one of the highlights of the story, touching on themes of friendship, values, purpose, and societal expectations. Grande and Erivo’s chemistry, both on and off screen, brought this relationship to life brilliantly. 

Despite both the musical and the movie running for roughly three hours, the movie only covers half of the original story. I did feel that the pacing dragged at times, with the plot progressing slowly—almost frustratingly so. However, this slower pace gave more creative freedom to the director and actors. Compared to the stage production, Elphaba and Glinda felt more alive in this version. Their characters were more developed and complex, which created a deeper connection with the audience. I particularly enjoyed Glinda’s nuanced portrayal, whereas in the play, she seemed more ditzy and one-dimensional.

Though I find live singing and dancing more impactful, the movie was still incredibly immersive. The film’s close-up shots of the characters, their costumes, and facial expressions added a level of intimacy that the stage production can’t match. The lighting and camera angles also contributed to a richer atmosphere. The movie was visually striking and the vivid colors truly brought the fantasy world of Oz to life. These added details allowed for more foreshadowing, extensive world-building, and deeper character development. It never felt like a simple recording of the play. 

A friend of mine, who is more versed in musical theatre techniques, also offered some insightful commentary on how film is a unique medium. On stage, only those sitting in the front row get to see the actors’ faces clearly, and even then, it’s impossible to catch all the small details. It’s difficult to compare movies and theatre because they offer different experiences and strengths. Perhaps that’s why I remain skeptical about many movie-musical adaptations retaining a high quality—they’re often unfairly compared to the original. Nevertheless, Wicked is proof that a great musical-movie adaptation is possible.

REVIEW: John Proctor Is the Villain

Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

On the night of November 21st, my friend and I walked out of the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre in a passionate discussion about the SMTD performance of John Proctor Is the Villain, a comedy-drama written by Kimberly Belflower. Going in, I was intrigued by the play’s premise and curious about how it would intertwine the themes of The Crucible—a play written by U-M grad Arthur Miller—with contemporary issues.

John Proctor Is the Villain takes place at Helen County High, the only high school in a small town in Georgia. Set in 2018, when the #MeToo movement on social media gained attention, the story follows a group of high school juniors during their spring semester (coincidentally, I was also a junior in high school then). Most scenes occur in the classroom of Carter Smith, a young, charismatic, and popular teacher. Although Mr. Smith’s class is small, his students embody the archetypes of nerdy, sporty, chic, and emo characters you would expect to find in a larger high school. As Mr. Smith and his students read The Crucible, they begin to discuss John Proctor, who, despite being an adulterer, enjoys a good reputation and is praised as a hero. At the same time, a group of girls formed a club to explore what feminism exactly means and how to be a feminist. 

Though it starts lightheartedly, this production dives headfirst into heavy themes, including racist and sexist language, depictions of violence, and abusive relationships. At its core, the play is a commentary on sexual assault, highlighting how it remains a pervasive issue that is too often dismissed or ignored. As the plot thickens, the shifting dynamics reveal the profound disparities and emotional toll that sexual assault takes on both victims and those connected to them. The play explores a range of complex emotions—confusion, disbelief, embarrassment, anger, sadness, and more—all of which feel raw and deeply human. As I watched from the audience, the character development prompted me to reflect on my past relationships, experiences, and vulnerabilities.

The actors’ accurate portrayals of these complexities made the performance even more impactful and thought-provoking. Their depiction of messy teenage friendships—fraught with reluctance and miscommunication—felt incredibly realistic. Through desperate and hesitant tones in their voices and insecure body language, they authentically captured the essence of adolescence. Student actor Hugh Finnigan embodied Mr. Smith’s charismatic persona so convincingly that, from the beginning, I gravitated toward his character. His confidence and mannerisms fondly reminded me of my favorite high school teachers.

The production’s minimal set design—consisting solely of school desks and a blackboard—underscored the idea that no environment, no matter how safe or familiar it seems, is immune to the threat of sexual assault and harassment. The costumes and makeup reflected each character’s stereotypical personality, but by the end of the play, teach us not to judge a book by its cover. Finally, the dance-break transitions between scenes became a powerful visual metaphor for resilience, symbolizing the characters’ capacity to reclaim power and persevere.

John Proctor Is the Villain delivered a surreal and eye-opening experience, culminating in an ending that felt chilling, uplifting, shocking, and awe-inspiring all at once. Moments that initially seemed surface-level gained significant weight as the characters displayed profound growth and emotional depth. By analyzing their behavior, reactions, and capacity for trust, the play sheds light on how people navigate societal pressures and personal challenges.

As my friend and I left the theatre, we found ourselves discussing how societal norms shape the assumptions we make about people in our everyday lives and how dangerous these assumptions can be in perpetuating harmful power structures. This production left an indelible impression, and I would highly recommend it to anyone seeking a thoughtful and emotionally resonant theatrical experience.



REVIEW: Imogen Says Nothing

Imogen Says Nothing by Aditi Kapil is a spinoff story of the character Imogen in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. She’s a character some have interpreted as a typo because she says nothing. However, Kapil turns this character, who serves no purpose in the original, into the main character of a “revisionist comedy in verse and prose” that SMTD describes on their website as a “feminist hijacking of Shakespeare that investigates the voices that have long been absent from the theatrical canon and the consequences of cutting them.” It highlights how women have historically been only seen as an image and deprived of their words. The play not only puts a big emphasis on the power of speech but the power of writing too. 

The premise is a bit confusing: Imogen is a bear disguised as a woman and has been living as a woman for a few years. She travels outside of her small village to the bigger cities and along the way gets dragged onto the stage in the middle of a performance of Much Ado About Nothing. In Elizabethan England, all female characters were played by men because only men were allowed to act. As a result, Imogen has to pretend to be a man playing a woman, and that woman is Imogen herself. In other words, she’s a bear disguised as a woman who pretends to be a man acting out a woman.

It has heavy themes of violence and animal abuse and there are explicit drinking and sex scenes. Furthermore, Imogen is constantly degraded for being female and fat; she even says that her only talent is “whoring”. When she is praised, it’s for her ability to make others laugh but it’s usually because she’s mocked for her background and intelligence. 

Nevertheless, it’s still a comedy and masks the darker content with humor and fun character dynamics. My favorite character was Nicholas Tooley; in the beginning, others always teased him because he was so innocent and pure, but in the end, he was so sassy and dramatic. It was also really funny when there were modern versions of objects on set. For example, for the alcohol they used White Claw, and when checking their contact information they would pull out their cell phones. 

Overall, I highly recommend watching it. It’s a play that’s hard to grasp but fascinating, especially the ending which was the best part. It took a sudden abstract twist that circled back to the underlying message with a single chilling line directed at the audience: “Exit man.” 

REVIEW: Orpheus in the Underworld

Unlike what the title suggests, Orpheus in the Underworld (Orphée aux enfers) didn’t focus much on Orpheus being in the Underworld nor did it remain true to the romantic and sorrowful story told in Greek myths. Instead, what SMTD brought to life was a goofy comedy contrasted with powerful French opera, and they described it as “a cheeky twist” on the famous love story between Orpheus and his wife, Eurydice.

In mythology, Orpheus and Eurydice were deeply in love, so when Eurydice met her untimely death, he played the lyre (an instrument similar to the harp) and used his musical genius to charm his way into the Underworld and bring her back to the world of the living. 

In this version, the two shared a terrible marriage and were both cheating on each other. They portrayed Orpheus as a lackluster violinist, which was one of the many things that drove his wife crazy. Eurydice constantly asked for a divorce, but Orpheus always refused with sweet words. He had a different plan in mind to get rid of her. When Eurydice died, he jumped with joy; however, his happiness was short-lived when soon after he was threatened by Public Opinion to save his wife and thus dragged to the Underworld. 

Operas place a greater importance on music than storytelling, so although the dialogue was in English, the majority of the show was in French. Orpheus in the Underworld was performed at The Power Center for the Performing Arts, and they provided screens with English subtitles for the audience to follow along. Some technical difficulties threw off the timing of the words, but I wasn’t that disappointed since the students’ acting and singing were so captivating it felt like a waste to take my eyes off them.

The story took place in the late 1950s, so all of the backdrops, from the farm to Olympus and the Underworld, were all unique. I also loved the wardrobe, especially the outfits of the gods. They were totally different from the traditional white robes I normally associate with Greek mythology. My favorite costume was when Jupiter, also known as Zeus, transformed into what was supposed to be a seductive fly.

Overall, I had fun! It was my first time watching an opera, and it combined humor with musical prowess. I’ve really enjoyed each of SMTD’s productions and look forward to watching more.