“Holler If Ya Hear Me” Review: Broadway Preaches a Ghetto Gospel

“They got a n**ga shedding tears/ reminiscin’ on my past fears/Cause shit was hectic for me last year”.   And so marks the beginning of the 2014-2015 Broadway season. As opening lyrics go, it’s about as far from “The hills are alive, with the sound of music” as one can go. And that is precisely what the ambitious, if flawed, Holler If Ya Hear Me intends.

The first sign that this production is willing to buck tradition greets the audience upon entering the Palace Theatre: Close to 600 seats have been removed from the massive orchestra section. This accommodates an extended stage and stadium seating stretching to the mezzanine. The design pitches the audience into the action onstage.   Those skeptical of this concept should have no fear. It is actually one of the best decisions director Kenny Leon brings to the show, which is a tad too intimate for the house it occupies.

The songs (and poetry) by Tupac Shakur however, are lyrically rich and hard hitting enough to energize the large crowd. Purist fans will appreciate that the creative team has not shied away from the language or tone of the music in the least. This jukebox musical is not for Baby Boomers, and the show makes no apologies or concessions in this regard.

In a musical crafted from the themes in the late rapper’s work it is no surprise the story centers on a tragic tale of drugs and violence. The musical opens with John (powerful spoken word artist Saul Williams) returning to city life after a stint in prison. Jail time has spurred him to leave behind the world of drug dealing and instead search for honest work at his friends’ auto shop. Our other central figure is Vertus (Christopher Jackson), who has taken up dealing while John was behind bars. During this time Vertus has also won over John’s once girlfriend Corrine (Saycon Sengbloh, in strong voice).  The neighborhood is quickly thrown into chaos and despair when an (un-seen) gang shoots down Vertus’ brother Benny. Our protagonists gather their neighborhood friends and arm themselves with determination and guns to avenge their fallen friend.

This is where the trouble starts, for both the characters and the audience. Benny has spoken perhaps two lines in one crowded scene before his off-stage demise. Yet this death is what thrusts the plot into motion. It took me a good ten minutes to figure out who this Benny was that everyone was so upset about. It wasn’t until his mother (a vastly underutilized Tonya Pinkins) emerged in tears, that I realized he was her son and Vertus’ brother. It’s rather difficult for the audience to invest in a character we don’t know and a conflict that unfolds mostly off-stage.

The book by Todd Kreidler is largely at fault here. It takes the basic themes of Shakur’s lyrics as inspiration for its inner city story, but fails to expand on them with any originality. The result is a rather heavy handed, paint-by-numbers message about the unending cycle of violence in poor, black neighborhoods. Should the group take on the typical “eye for an eye” mentality, or rise above the gang warfare that plagues their surroundings? Character development is also frequently sabotaged in an effort to shoehorn popular songs onto the stage.

Luckily the vocally robust cast is adept at interpreting Shakur’s rhymes. The smooth voiced Jackson manages to be compelling throughout. Saul Williams is a force of nature when he spits Shakur’s signature lyrics, particularly in the fiery showstopper “Me Against the World”. And even though her character is largely in the play just so “Unconditional Love” can make an appearance, Sengbloh belts the song like it’s her last day on Earth. I wish the story knew what to do with Tonya Pinkins’ mother figure, as the Tony winner lends a much needed dose of gravitas to the proceedings.

Tony winning director Kenny Leon has shown tremendous skill helming straight plays on the Great White Way. But, his first foray into a musical seems less sure-footed. Some musical numbers inspire awe and thunderous applause. The act one closer (and title song) is a tremendous showcase of ferocity for Saul Williams and the ensemble, with invigorating stage movement. On the flip side, many other moments have no life or stakes in the stage direction. An odd dichotomy emerges between staging that is either truly inspired or mostly forgettable.

A similar problem is found in the choreography by Wayne Cilento. While expertly performed by talented dancers who are clearly having a blast, it frequently fails to direct the audience’s eyes to where the main action is happening.   There is also a turn table, because…I’m not really sure. Luckily, the lighting design (Mike Baldassari) and projections (Zachary Borovary) are gorgeous and well implemented to aid the storytelling.

Ultimately, Holler if Ya Hear Me feels like something that needed more time to develop. There is promise of a truly great musical in here. But as it stands, for every flash of brilliance or innovation, there is another of confusion. I applaud the producers and creative team for bringing a rap musical to Broadway and remaining true to the source material. If only the book matched the passion of Tupac’s music.