GREEN SCALES AND SHAM

I generally count on SpeakEasy Stage for stellar productions of innovative and ground-breaking plays and musicals. But that history, along with fine performances and charming musicianship from Keiji Ishiguri as Lizard Boy Trevor, Peter DiMaggio as his friend Cary, and Chelsie Nectow as Siren are not enough to rescue this production from Justin Huerta’s weak script. Even director Lyndsay Allyn Cox’s considerable directorial skills and Zoë Sundra’s appealingly bright costumes fail to keep this indie rock musical dragon tale from dragging.

Peter DiMaggio, Keiji Ishiguro, and Chelsie Nectow

Lizard Boy is set in Seattle, and involves the eruption of Mount St. Helens, said to have occurred twenty years before the play’s present day. A dragon emerged from the erupting volcano and somehow marked our main character, Trevor, with green scales. Trevor’s scales are actually quite attractive; certainly more subtle than many a tat one sees on various bodies today. Yet Trevor suffers mightily over these pretty scales. He has refused to leave his apartment for a year, waiting until the Monster Fest so he can blend in with costumed celebrants. Further, he is agonizing over the disappointing outcome of what seems to have been an extremely brief interaction with The Guy, a former object of his affections, at the previous year’s Monster Fest. At the same time, Trevor has nightmares about “the girl of his dreams,” a “scary blonde” covered in blood who happens to look exactly like Siren, a local dive bar performer.

Keiji Ishiguro, Peter DiMaggio, and Chelsie Nectow

There is talk of “powers” and battles. Huertas’ coming-of-age musical is billed as “comic book inspired,” but for me, it was comic book dispirited, presenting two-dimensional characters with no discernable motivation or real character development. I couldn’t tell which events were meant to be “real” and which were delusional. This is not to deny the energy behind Ishiguro’s performance. DiMaggio’s Cary is an appealing and compassionate character; why Lizard Boy Trevor is incapable of recognizing that for so long is unclear. Likewise unclear is the point of Siren, other than to introduce a gorgeously dressed villain: why exactly is she intent on destroying Trevor other than to provide an excuse for stage fights? And why are we told, in the show’s first number, that our hero “dies at the end,” even though (spoiler alert) he does not?

Keiji Ishiguro and Chelsie Nectow

In the end, Lizard Boy learns to accept himself, scales and all—a predictable and too-easy resolution to an overly complicated and confusing plot. It’s a resolution so basic, in fact, that this show, along with its comic book elements and obsession with “heroes,” fails in its role as a coming-of-age story. Our poor Lizard Boy, sweet as he is, never seems to come of age. On the contrary, he seems trapped in a state of perpetual immaturity.

photos courtesy of Benjamin Rose Photography

Lizard Boy
SpeakEasy Stage Company
Roberts Studio Theatre, Stanford Calderwood Pavilion
Boston Center for the Arts, 527 Tremont Street in Boston
95 minutes, no intermission
ends on November 22, 2025
for tickets ($25-$85), call 617.933.8600 or visit SpeakEasyStage

for more shows, visit Theatre in Boston