The only thing that lasts longer than Sam Moriarty’s SONGS OF THE EVERLASTING is the headache you’ll get from the the painfully harmonized music.
Theater Burn had the chance to meet up with Moriarty after the show and found him weeping openly. We can only assume he was mourning the three-and-a-half hours of our lives that we will never get back. Outside of some standout performances, this song-cycle turned musical lacks any sense of production value. From the refrigerator box automobile, to the never-ending parade of clashing, furry costumes, I’m pretty sure a freshman in high school could out-produce this show. It’s also clear that the book was written to try and make the songs work, but the resulting story is filled with contrived situations. When the word “value” is removed from the descriptor, “production value” we’re simply left with a production – costumed in Uggs.
Production values are too often the details that go unnoticed when done well, but are painfully obvious when they’re done poorly.
The only relief from this visual assault came with some star-quality performances, most notably from newcomer Rebecca Swift. She commanded the stage and vocally owned her songs. It was a joy to hear her sing and the audience counted the minutes until her return when she was not on stage.
You have two more weekends to catch SONGS OF THE EVERLASTING, playing in the black box space at Fletcher Studios, but my suggestion would be to stay home and save your pennies. There are far better shows to see on a rainy day.