Killer Idea for a Musical?

Is Assassins a good idea for a musical?

In a review over at One in a Long Line of Good Girls, Helena Williams quite rightly points out one of the key features of this musical:

“It was always going to be a bit weird...”

I remember going to see a production of Assassins and bumping into an acquaintance on the way to the theatre. The conversation went something like this:

HE: Hey, where’re you headed?

ME: Actually I’m just off to the theatre

HE: Oh, really? What are going to see?

ME: It’s called “Assassins”

HE: “Assassins”? Sounds interesting. What’s it about?

ME: Actually it’s a musical about all the people who have tried to kill American presidents.

HE: Oh-kaaaaaaay [backing away slowly].

For normal people, Assassins is weird.

To be honest all musicals are weird; we just forget with the most popular ones. But Assassins has a real struggle to overcome its weirdness. The problem is neither the music nor the lyrics. It’s not even the book. The problem is the idea.

Let’s begin at the beguine and consider a simple fact: most people do not try to kill presidents. So those that do are inevitably somewhat beyond the pale of most people’s sympathies. To put it bluntly, the central characters in Assassins are nutjobs. So what do you do if you happen to be writing a musical about them?

1)  EITHER try to humanise these characters by presenting them sympathetically (“underneath they’re just like us”)

2) OR darkly mock the characters for their nuttiness (“isn’t it funny how dangerous these nutjobs can be?”)

The problem with (1) is that it’s patently untrue. The problem with (2) is that it’s patently nasty. For me Assassins tries to do a bit of both and splits the indifference.

So we have John Hinkley Jnr, the man who lodged a bullet in Ronald Reagan’s chest. Why’d he do it? Well he’s just another pitiful guy impossibly in love with a gal:

“I am unworthy of your love

Jodie, Jodie"

Our sympathies go with him. Until we realize that the object of his his achy-breaky heart is the actress Jodie Foster and he is, in fact, America’s most dangerous celebrity obsessive. The song is genuine but we know he’s nuts. So do we cry with him or do we laugh at him? I can’t help feeling that most people would do neither. The weirdness is too distancing for anyone to engage.

Successful musicals can be made out of the weirdest ideas, from singing cowboys to dancing cats. But there are limits. All-singing-and-all-dancing–and-all-assassinating nutjobs? That idea would kill any show.