Not surprisingly, the most expressive element in “Here Lies Love” (along with Clint Ramos’ costumes, which also move beautifully) is Annie-B Parson’s choreography. Based on small hand gestures and large traffic patterns, it suggests a fuller spectrum of human interaction than the otherwise mostly focused and sometimes mechanical production.
Is it wrong to seek that interaction more fully? (Or as Imelda sings: “Is it a sin to love too much?”) For most of its 90 intermission-less minutes, “Here Lies Love” is a delicate question, preferring to be treated as anything — an art object, a dance party — other than what it is. In that way, it recalls Byrne’s Broadway concert “American Utopia,” where Timbers and Parson also collaborated. But that show, without a story, just needs to be smooth and enjoyable to earn its points.
“Here Lies Love” bets that glamor can create narrative — or, rather, that in a show about the dangers of political demagogy, glamor itself is narrative. It’s a case of form following function in fire. We are drawn to cultural and political chaos in much the same, often dangerous ways.
Perhaps the irony of making a musical about that is even more noticeable on the dance floor. This is for me in Public, where almost everyone has to stand up and be part of the story, not observers of it. (There were only 42 seats.) And perhaps, 10 years later, with our own politics looking more like the Marcoses, no one can afford to keep a distance.
In any case, on Broadway, it wasn’t until the magnificent final song, “God Draws Straight,” that the material matched the movement in such a way that it reached the balcony. Led by Moses Villarama, and based on the comments of those who witnessed the peaceful revolution of 1986, it recognizes the moral superiority of its true heroes — the Filipino people — in the only way a musical can: by giving it a beautiful voice. Finally, it’s OK to clap.
Here Lies Love
At the Broadway Theatre, Manhattan; herelieslovebroadway.com. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes.
