Finishing the Sandwich: Thoughts on "Breaking Into Song" by Adam Lenson

So this is a really interesting book. I mean, really interesting. 

I mean 'forget about your cheese sandwich mid-bite and, instead, spend the rest of the afternoon re-thinking a lot of what you thought you knew about musicals' kind of interesting. 

Maybe that's just me.

Ostensibly, this a book for those who hate musicals. The kind of high-minded critic who would rather suffer an unfortunate accident with a chandelier than sit through a single performance of Phantom of the Opera. But it's also a book for the Phantom Mega Phan, bogged down with merch, and on their six thousandth visit. Both could be said to have a narrow view of musicals and this book is an attempt to widen their gaze.  

Unfortunately, I'm not sure either group will be taking notes, so that just leaves everybody else. There's certainly plenty in here for those working in musical theatre, particularly in the UK. Practical things about how and why current practices need to change. 

For me, however, the most interesting chapters are the more philosophical ones. The ones that contain thoughts like this:

"I think that all musicals are memory plays and the best ones acknowledge that, these characters are retelling a story, they are remembering a story..."

That feels like it could be true but I've no idea why. Perhaps it's something to do with the fact that musicals tend to be very melodic and melodies can only exist in our memories.

Then there's this:

"So perhaps musicals, rather than the world, show us our minds, show us what thinking feels like..."

Again, that feels true but also very mysterious. Perhaps the unique combination of story, words and music can offer a simultaneous expression of thought and feeling, one that is closer to the truth of our inner experience. In a film, it's only the musical element, the score, that can really take us 'inside' a character. Maybe that's what musicals do all the time but with more than just music.

And there's also this:

"I have often compared a good musical to a lasagne."

Erm.

OK, so sometimes the philosophical metaphors are a tad extended and I would have loved a few more examples from specific musicals. But there's probably a good reason for this: those musicals have yet to be written. You see, this book is fundamentally about the future. 

Now I've read a few "how to" books on musicals. The ones that take you through the basic building blocks like story structure, song placement, "I want" numbers (and, oh my, they do like their "I want" numbers). They're good books but, by necessity, they're about the past. They tell you what's worked.

If you want to know about the future, you have to go deeper. Instead of talking about the building blocks of a musical, you have to ask what the blocks are made of, philosophically speaking. Only then, can you really start to re-imagine what a musical could be. That's why a book like this is so important.

To use a film analogy, it's basically The Lego Movie. In the modern musical theatre landscape, everyone's got the building blocks [er, what was that about extended metaphors? - ed]. The problem is that everyone's been following the instructions for so long, they've forgotten how to do anything else. What's needed are a few Lucys to lead a few Emmets into the Badlands and become Master Builders who can dismantle everything and start re-making the world the way they want to make it. 

That's not a bad plan. It worked in the movie. Here's hoping it works for musicals.

The future could be awesome.

And I've got a sandwich to finish.