THIS IS HOW GLORY FEELS
Here’s an especially poignant and powerful musical about a real episode from the past that finally gains the word “Broadway” to its history exactly 100 years after the actual incidents took place. Its triumphant current incarnation is prominent in the lists of nominees for various theatre awards (including six Tony noms). As a musical, the captivating Floyd Collins began in workshops and a staging in Philadelphia a little more than three decades ago and soon went on to a short run off-Broadway, resulting in a gorgeous cast album (a second one, representing the current company, is due in July). There have been numerous productions around the USA and in England. This is a rare chance to see it and relish it in Manhattan. And in a first-class presentation.
Jeremy Jordan
Returning as director of the New York City revival is talented Tina Landau, the musical’s bookwriter. She also provided additional lyrics to the words and music by the gifted Adam Guettel, now at work out of town nurturing his next likely hit, Millions. He was previously represented on Broadway by his original music to enhance the drama in To Kill a Mockingbird and the music and lyrics for two radiantly romantic feasts with a side dish of anguish: Days of Wine and Roses and The Light in the Piazza. Unlike these and many musicals, Floyd Collins is not about couples falling in love, but is about the deeply felt bond of family members.
Cole Vaughan, Wade McCollum, Clyde Voce and Jason Gotay
If you’re a theatre-goer who goes into the Vivian Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center with minimal knowledge of what happens in Floyd Collins you will be more on the edge your seat, wondering what happened to the titular character who becomes trapped in the cave he’s exploring, while concerned people disagree on how to rescue him (and time is ticking). But knowing the facts won’t necessarily make you immune to the emotional impact of the ebb and flow of hope for getting him out. Whether or not you are aware of the “if” or the “when” of the poor fellow getting pulled out, you’ll likely be pulled into the drama.
Lizzy McAlpine and Jeremy Jordan
Never feeling manipulative, it’s not unrelenting sorrow nor a soap opera-esque slog. That’s quite a coup in itself. While the claustrophobia, conflicts and fears are weighty, there are glorious and dignified melodies that add layers of grace to the gravitas — and well-placed wit, grit, comic relief, and satire. Beyond being a ride on a roller coaster or a seesaw alternating optimism and pessimism, the story shows the voyeuristic, vulgar, selfish sides of human nature when a pre-television era media circus surrounds the cave area. Cleverly mocked through characterization and choreography are the intrusive, insensitive newspaper and radio reporters only looking for a scoop or quote.
The company
Please avoid the assumptions, knee-jerk reactions, and suspicions that a wide stage will be incompatible with the task of presenting what feels and looks like small, super-confined areas of a cave. The pockets of space are defined impactfully through lighting, effectively done by Scott Zielinski. The score, with elegance and elements of folk-y Americana redolent of the rustic Kentucky locale, remains a jewel that shines even more with repeat exposures. There’s variety in these sturdy melodies and their naturalistic and reflective lyrics. We get robust tones, yearning, frustration, tenderness, and more in such numbers as “Heart an’ Hand,” “Riddle Song,” “Lucky,” and Floyd’s early songs while exploring and climbing filled with joy and his delight in hearing his voice echoing. And there’s the final catharsis via the musical’s most-covered item, “How Glory Goes” (recorded by such theatre singer-actors as Audra McDonald, Kelli O’Hara, Brian Stokes Mitchell). Attention and color are brought to the material by orchestrator Bruce Coughlin and the orchestra as conducted by Ted Sperling, and caringly, crisply sung by a talented, committed cast.
Jeremy Jordan and Jason Gotay
Casting and characterization are scrupulous, with sufficient contrasts in vocal qualities and projected personalities. In the title role of Floyd, endearing Jeremy Jordan sings wonderfully soaring or aching lines and his acting emphasizes the guy’s determined resistance not to expect the worst and to retain some humor while appreciating the affection and concern showered upon him. As Floyd’s brother and sister, Jason Gotay and Lizzie McAlpine are artful –their characters admirable– in showing fierce familial love. As the father, Marc Kudisch is a steely, short-fused force of nature. Palpable tension comes when each confronts the man brought in as the methodical, cautious “professional” who’s expert in such rescue missions (the formidable Sean Allen Krill) who doesn’t want to be distracted by their layman opinions fueled by concerns, caring, and (over)confidence. Less assertive as the siblings’ stepmother who suffers more silently, soothing the volatile Collins kin, Jessica Molaskey is a true blessing, quietly magnetic, with a quality in her singing voice that telegraphs compassion and calm.
Taylor Trensch and members of the company
Taylor Trensch stands out strongly and sweetly navigating the arc of his character: a reporter called Skeets who starts off glib and a bit green, focused on getting the story like the other journalists, but becomes sensitized and deeply affected by going underground and communicating with the trapped, brave Floyd. One soul touching another makes for an eye-opening, heart-opening quick maturing and an altruistic sense of purpose. And members of the audience willing to open their hearts will be moved, too, as well as (likely) having thoughts of their own family loyalties and the tests of tough times. And maybe the unpredictability of life.
Marc Kudisch and Jessica Molaskey
photos by Joan Marcus
Floyd Collins
Vivian Beaumont Theater, 150 West 65 St at Lincoln Center
2 hours 30 minutes, including one intermission
ends on June 22, 2025
for tickets, visit LCT
