Dreams Deferred Do End in Bangs
Assassins
Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, book by John Weidman
Produced by the Princeton University Players
Sept. 27–29, Oct. 4–6 at Frist
$8 admission
What makes the embittered ravings of a washed up actor interesting? Well, says PUP’s new production of Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins, because he killed Abraham Lincoln.
The story follows nine assassins and would-be assassins of U.S. presidents as they loiter and exchange stories in a carnival run by a mysterious proprietor (Brian Lax ’15). As co-director Lily Gold ’14 points out, “killing presidents is an odd subject for a musical.” What’s odder, though, is that Assassins is not merely a curio piece — the musical theater equivalent of Plan 9 from Outer Space — but a remarkable successful piece of drama, especially in its current incarnation in Frist.
To ask another question: what makes the stories in Assassins resonate with Princeton students? The amount we have in common with the nine social misfits portrayed doesn’t seem like much at first. They represent the disenfranchised, the dispossessed — the people whom the American Dream has passed by. By contrast we are the privileged few, for whom the doors of wealth and power stand wide open. I generalize of course, but the Orange Bubble does exist, and, by virtue of our presence here, the possibilities of our lives are far greater than those for the majority of our peers.
Nevertheless, there is one common thread that connects us with the Assassins, and that is the fear of failure — and the accompanying fear of being forgotten. Faced with the reality of their own meaningless lives, these men and women took matters into their own hands. Some were poor and desperate, others wealthy and respected, and others just insane, but despite their different motivations they are in the end impelled by the fear that “No one’s ever even gonna care if we’re alive.”
This is a fear that even we at Princeton share.
I think many of us struggle with it to some extent. We may call it different names, like impostor syndrome, but at its core it’s a fear that we will be unable to realize our dreams — that we are somehow cut off from the success that we perceive all around us. In none of us does this necessarily manifest itself in violently anti-social actions, but that’s to be expected. Assassins is so compelling because it pinpoints this common human fear, and in chilling terms it depicts what can happen when someone loses perspective. It can happen if one is an impoverished immigrant or merely an actor down on his luck. When one becomes so wrapped up in one’s self-pity as to lose sight of reality, terrible things can happen, yet it’s a temptation for all of us. That seems like the central message of Assassins, and it’s one even we should keep in mind. Of course I don’t really think there are any potential murderers in the student body, or at least, I hope there aren’t.
As for the show itself, it does a surprisingly good job of conveying the power of music and lyrics. Directors Lily Gold ’14 and Izzy Kasdin ’14 manage to turn the theater into claustrophobic stage upon which the characters enact their dark fantasies. Evan Thompson ’14’s John Wilkes Booth really shines, as does Maeve Brady ‘15’s Sara Jane Moore. The physical comedy of Casey Kolb ’15 also enlivens the story and adds some humor to the show, albeit of the dark kind. Ultimately, the cast and directors deserve accolades for successfully conveying the power and meaning of what may be Sondheim’s most interesting and powerful musical.