LA CAGE: STRIPPED OF ITS FEATHERS
In Sam Pinkleton‘s well-intentioned but ultimately discordant revival of La Cage aux Folles at the Pasadena Playhouse, that old showbiz maxim about the show must going on feels less like a triumph than a duty. This production of Jerry Herman and Harvey Fierstein’s landmark 1983 musical about love, family, and sequined defiance seems caught between reverence for its past and an anxious determination to speak to the present.
Cheyenne Jackson
The timing couldn’t be more apt. As conservative politicians wage their relentless campaign against transgender rights, La Cage reminds us that the culture wars of the 1980s — when the show first dared to present a loving gay couple at its center during the Reagan era — have come full circle. Yet while the battle may be familiar, the weapons of theatrical engagement have changed considerably.
Kevin Cahoon
A gay couple, Georges — the aging proprietor of the titular nightclub — and his partner Albin — the club’s drag-performing star, discover that their straight son Jean-Michel is struggling as to whether or not he should include Albin at a dinner where he wants to impress his fiancée Anne’s decidedly conservative family. A drag queen doesn’t exactly fit the bill for traditional family morality.
Rhoyle Ivy King, Salina EsTitties, Suni Jade Reid, and Kay Bebe Queue
The estimable Cheyenne Jackson, still cutting a fine figure at 49, brings a masterful blend of suave authority and tender vulnerability to Georges. His sculpted physique, on strategic display throughout, serves as both eye candy and metaphor for the production’s disposal of traditional elements. Most crucially, Jackson and his co-star share a physical chemistry previously dampened in earlier productions, their passionate French kisses marking a decisive break from more tentative stagings of the past.
Cheyenne Jackson and Kevin Cahoon
As Albin, Kevin Cahoon proves a deft comedian, mining every line for maximum impact and offering a delicious impersonation of a certain Broadway diva that brings down the house. Yet his speak-singing of the show’s anthemic “I Am What I Am” feels like bringing a butter knife to an emotional gunfight. The number, which should land like a glass-shattering aria of self-acceptance, instead dissipates into the ether of good intentions — though his full-throated singing in Act Two suggests this choice springs from direction rather than capability.
Nicole Parker and Les Cagelles
Jerry Herman’s score remains a marvel of wit and warmth, seamlessly blending cabaret swagger with French chanson elegance. Under the expert guidance of musical director Darryl Archibald (Some Like it Hot OBC Grammy-winner), the orchestra navigates these varied waters with impressive dexterity, lending brass and sass to the showstoppers while finding all the wistful charm in numbers like “Song on the Sand.”
Salina EsTitties and Rholy Ivy King
The production’s most striking innovation — and its most contentious choice — lies in Pinkleton’s reconception of La Cage’s ensemble Les Cagelles as an unpolished assemblage of genderqueer, nonbinary, and drag performers, including a drag king. Where previous productions dazzled with precision kicks and aerial acrobatics (and fabulous vocals), this ensemble offers something rawer and more politically pointed, if considerably less polished. It’s a choice that speaks volumes about our current moment, though not always in ways that serve Herman’s crystalline score.
Cheyenne Jackson, George Salazar, Michael McDonald, and Nicole Parker
In the smaller roles, transgender artist Shea Diamond brings much-needed voltage as club owner Jacqueline, while George Salazar wrings every possible laugh as Jacob, the butler with delusions of maid-hood. The casting of Ryan J. Haddad — a disabled person with cerebral palsy — as Jean-Michel represents another of Pinkleton’s inclusive touches, though the production never fully integrates this choice into its storytelling. Similarly, the decision to cast a plus-sized actress as Anne challenges conventional Broadway romance tropes, even if the script gives her little room to develop beyond plot device.
Cody Brunelle-Potter, Ellen Soraya Nikbakht, Salina EsTitties, Kay Bebe Queue, Paul Vogt
The physical production puzzlingly transforms the French Riviera nightclub into what appears to be a condemned warehouse, a choice that undermines the lyrics’ insistence on the venue’s glamour. It’s as if the creative team — Broadway pros David Zinn, sets; David Reynoso, costumes; Stacey Derosier, lights — doesn’t quite trust the original material’s ability to speak to contemporary audiences without a heavy overlay of grittiness. The decision to stage the overture with full-cast business — including a premature glimpse of Albin — squanders the delicious anticipation built into the show’s opening scene.
Rhoyle Ivy King, Kay Bebe Queue, Ellen Soraya Nikbakht,
Cody Brunelle-Potter, Paul Vogt, Salina EsTitties, and Suni Jade Reed
Sam Pinkleton’s return to the Pasadena Playhouse has raised eyebrows, especially following his controversial 2021 production of Head Over Heels. While that show suffered from significant script revisions and musical cuts, La Cage aux Folles remains largely intact. The strength of the original material shines through, proving resilient even under Pinkleton’s experimental direction.
Cheyenne Jackson and Les Cagelles
Forty-one years after its premiere, La Cage remains a masterwork of musical theater craft, its themes of acceptance and authenticity arguably more urgent than ever in our current political climate. The show’s original boldness lay not just in its depiction of a gay relationship, but in its insistence that audiences recognize this love as both ordinary and extraordinary – a message that still resonates, even as our understanding of gender and sexuality has evolved beyond the binary thinking of the 1980s.
Cheyenne Jackson and Ryan Haddad
What we’re left with is a La Cage that wears its good intentions like a slightly ill-fitting gown — admirable in theory but not quite carrying it off with the required élan. Still, even in this somewhat uncertain incarnation, the show’s core message of love and acceptance rings true, proving that some songs of the heart never go out of tune, even if the orchestration occasionally hits a sour note. For two and a half hours, the Pasadena Playhouse becomes a sanctuary of solidarity, where the promise of “The Best of Times” feels not like naïve optimism but like necessary resistance.
Kevin Cahoon and Les Cagelles
photos by Jeff Lorch
La Cage aux Folles
Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave. in Pasadena
ends on December 15, 2024
for tickets, call 626.356.7529 or visit Pasadena Playhouse
