If Alicia Keys were to end her big semi-autobiographical Broadway musical with one of her hit songs, which one should it be? Of course, it should be 'Empire State of Mind.' That's the obvious choice, right? It's also as expected as the R train being delayed with signal problems.
'Hell's Kitchen,' the musical about a 17-year-old piano prodigy named Ali, has great new and old songs by the 16-time Grammy Award winner and a talented cast, but only a small part of a very safe story that tries to seem more important than it actually is.
It aims to be real and rough — a significant amount of curse words are used, including 19 f-bombs — for what is ultimately a portrayal of a young, talented woman living on the 42nd floor of a doorman building in Manhattan who rediscovers love for her protective mom.
The musical that premiered Saturday at the Shubert Theatre includes new versions of Keys' most famous hits: 'Fallin',' 'No One,' 'Girl on Fire,' 'If I Ain't Got You,' as well as several new songs, including the excellent 'Kaleidoscope.'
It's clear that Keys is an outstanding songwriter. However, it's very doubtful that playwright Kristoffer Diaz can create a convincing, relatable romantic comedy that is also socially aware.
This is an appropriately female-led show, with Maleah Joi Moon absolutely sensational in the lead role — an amazing singer who is funny, cheerful, passionate and determined, a standout performance. Shoshana Bean, who portrays her single, feisty mom, makes her songs shine, while Kecia Lewis as a soulful piano teacher is the show's remarkable MVP.
When we meet Ali, she's a frustrated teenager who knows there's more to life and 'something's calling me,' as she sings in the new song, 'The River.' Initially, that's a boy: the sweet Chris Lee, playing a house painter. There's also reconnecting with her unreliable dad, portrayed by the nicely slippery Brandon Victor Dixon. But what's really calling Ali is the grand piano in her building's multipurpose room.
Outside this apartment building in the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood — we can tell it's the early 1990s — are 'roaches and the rats/heroin in the cracks.' However, no criminal activity is shown — at worst some illegal krumping? — and the police don't actually abuse those citizens considered undesirable. They just sort of shoo them away. This is a sanitized New York for the M&M store tourists, despite the lyrics in Keys' songs.
Another reason the musical fails to fully connect is that a lot of the music played onstage is fake — it's actually the orchestra hidden on the sides playing those piano scales and funky percussion. (Even the three bucket drummers onstage are mostly just pretending, which is a shame.) For a musical about a unique artist and how important music is, this feels a bit like a deception.
Choreography by Camille A. Brown is strong and enjoyable using a hip-hop vocabulary, and director Michael Greif expertly keeps things moving gracefully. But there's — forgive me — everything but the kitchen sink thrown in here: A supposed-to-be-funny chorus of two mom friends and two Ali friends, a ghost, some mild parental abuse and a weird fixation with dinner.
The way the songs are combined is impressive, with "Girl on Fire" comically interrupted by rap verses, "Fallin'" transformed into a humorously alluring slow song and "No One" changed from a painful love song to a mother-daughter anthem.
But everyone is waiting for that song about "concrete jungles" where "big lights will inspire you." It comes right after we see a young woman snuggling on a couch, high over the city she will soon conquer. You can, too, if you just go past the doorman and follow your dreams.
