No wonder then that the most expressive element in “Here Lies Love” (besides 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 involvement than the otherwise narrowly focused and sometimes mechanical production achieves.
Is it wrong to seek that involvement more fully? (Or as Imelda sings, “Is it a sin to love too much?”) For most of its 90 intermissionless minutes, “Here Lies Love” refines the question, preferring to be treated as something else – an object of art, a dance party – besides what it is. In that way it is reminiscent of Byrne’s Broadway concert ‘American Utopia’, in which Timbers and Parson also participated. But that show, which had no story, just needed to be tight and enjoyable to score points.
“Here Lies Love” bets that glamor can make up for the story – or rather, that in a show about the dangers of political demagoguery, glamor itself is the story. It’s a case of form follows function in fire. We are drawn to cultural and political excitement in much the same, often dangerous way.
Perhaps the irony of making a musical about that is more noticeable on the dance floor. It was with the audience for me, where almost everyone had to stand and be a part of the story, not an observer. (There were only 42 seats.) And maybe, 10 years later, with our own politics much more like Marcos’s, no one can afford to keep their distance.
Anyway, on Broadway it’s not until the beautiful last number, “God Draws Straight,” that the material somehow matches the movement that reaches the balcony. Directed by Moses Villarama, and based on eyewitness testimony to 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 okay to applaud.
Here lies love
At the Broadway Theater, Manhattan; herelieslovebroadway.com. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes.
