“How To Dance In Ohio,” the brand new musical that opened Sunday night on the Belasco Theatre, marks a laudable first for Broadway: A show about autistic individuals who are literally played by actors on the autism spectrum.
That smart selection to bring some authenticity to a musical that otherwise leans hard on weepy Broadway cliches is far and away the very best move its creators have made.
Two hours and half-hour with one intermission. On the Belasco Theatre, 111 W. forty fourth Street.
They’ve solid an excellent core seven performers, who’re all charming individually in addition to when a part of a tight ensemble.
But as groundbreaking as “How To Dance” is as an idea, its execution across the board doesn’t match its admirable intentions.
The show, directed by Sammi Cannold, waffles between being stalely predictable and taking confounding narrative leaps. The plot and dialogue are shoddy, and early on it becomes apparent that we’re unfortunately sitting at a missed opportunity.
Also off-putting is that the musical’s rightly expressed message — that folks with autism mustn’t be objects of pity or a means to another person’s inspiration — is undone by a book (Rebekah Greer Melocik) and rating (Melocik and Jacob Yandura) that may only manage two things with the subtlety of semi-truck: tears and uplift. Complexity, take a hike.
“How To Dance” is based on the much better 2015 documentary of the identical name, which is available to stream on Max, about a group of young autistic adults who gather at Amigo Family Counseling in Columbus (the characters consistently bring up that they’re, in truth, in Ohio) and prepare to attend their first spring formal.
That’s the kind of set-up that makes Broadway creatives slobber. Many musicals feature a consequential “school dance” from “West Side Story” to “The Prom” and, er, “Carrie.” Drama (and infrequently buckets of pig blood) thrives at them.
However the film is not about the dance. As an alternative, that climactic event allows the viewer to fulfill the documentary’s extraordinary subjects and gain a deeper, more human understanding of what their day by day lives are like.
Unlike the overblown musical, the doc is not excessively and damagingly weighty.
As an illustration, within the movie, the kindhearted Dr. Emilio Amigo simply teaches the group useful life skills and organizes the formal.
But onstage, the character, who is played by Caesar Samayoa, meddles in the choices of a young student named Drew (Liam Pearce) in a manner that borders on non-ethical. He goes to a bar and awkwardly hits on a newspaper reporter who’s writing concerning the dance. He bickers along with his daughter Ashley (Cristina Sastre) as she considers dropping out of Juilliard.
All of a sudden, the marquee has modified to “How To Have A Mid-Life Crisis In Ohio.”
Using Amigo to shove in some empty calories to craft a more traditional musical defeats the aim. The stories concerning the group members, not a flailing doctor, are why we’re there.
Drew (Pearce) is agonizingly trying to determine between studying engineering at University of Michigan or the more comfortable Ohio State. He also has a crush on Marideth (Madison Kopec), who is grounded by a love of facts. Mel (Imani Russell), who believes in reincarnation, is treated poorly at work at a pet store by an ignorant manager. And Remy (Desmond Luis Edwards) hosts a cosplay YouTube show.
The characters of boyfriend-obsessed Caroline (Amelia Fei), funny Tommy (Conor Tague) and “Lord of the Rings” fan Jessica (Ashley Wool) should not as well-developed, but they’re likable all the identical. Just a few parents show up, too, and make no impression.
That’s also true of the rating, with music by Jacob Yandura and lyrics by Rebekah Greer Melocik. The songs are generically bittersweet, frustratingly similar and make the show feel motionless. Genre-wise, the sound sits apathetically in the course of aughts pop and lesser Jeanine Tesori or Jason Robert Brown — in brief, completely unmemorable.
The actors make the very best of what they’re given, though. Pearce, specifically, has a nice, vivid, musical theater voice.
He also boasts the show’s funniest moment (and considered one of the few laughs in it). When Drew sends Dr. Amigo a furious email criticizing him for overstepping, Amigo says that he actually interpreted the note in a more positive tone.
So, Pearce walks back out onstage and hilariously re-reads the message with a strained smile. That bit cleverly expresses how difficult social cues could be, even for the guy who’s alleged to be teaching them.
It’s a fleeting, enlivening scene of creative ingenuity that provides a glimpse of what “How To Dance In Ohio” may need been.