Hamilton

Hamilton is in town for a four-month tour.  When tickets went on sale, local television coverage showed a stampede of people willing to part with their hard-earned money for a ticket – any ticket.   One had to be very, very lucky or very, very rich to secure a coveted seat.

Husband and I tried a few times, but bulked at ticket prices that cost more than a month’s rent for our first apartment.

It will come back, we rationalized, and then we heard rumors they’ll be making a film.  So, we said, of course, we’ll see it on the big screen. We watched the PBS special Hamilton’s America (watch for it during pledging, well worth it) and, in the end, we were content.

Then, last Tuesday afternoon we were coming in from the garden and the phone rang.  It was our dear friends who suddenly, due to conflicts with children and schedules, couldn’t use their tickets for Hamilton that very night – did we want them?

Did we want them? Did we want them? We were scrubbing the garden dirt out from under our fingernails and downtown in record time.

In case you’ve been under a rock, Hamilton premiered at New York’s Public Theater in February 2015, before transferring to Broadway and winning 11 Tony Awards.  It blends musical theater, hip-hop, rap, R&B, jazz, pop, and American history to dramatize the life of founding father Alexander Hamilton, based on the biography by Ron Chernow.

Bear with me as I heap further praise on Hamilton —  it’s everything you heard,  it is indeed extraordinary.  There’s wonderfully written and cleverly delivered lyrics, filled with sly political references, and laugh-out-loud double-entendres.  There’s amazing choreography, lighting and a set that transforms subtly for each number.  But it’s the characters that shine – every character was fully drawn, in period, and beautifully developed.  There’s a scene with Alexander and Eliza Hamilton that left me (and many others) drying our tears.

The politics of Hamilton, Jefferson, Washington, and Madison were not that different from today, which Lin-Manuel Miranda beautifully mirrors in his lyrics and script.  In the song The Room Where It Happens, Hamilton tells Burr that he is having a private dinner meeting with Jefferson and Madison.  Later they emerge from behind closed doors with a three way deal.  Burr is incredulous that no one else was in the room where it happened.  You can listen to the song and lyrics HERE.

Our San Francisco cast was exceptional — with Michael Luwoye playing Hamilton (left) and Joshua Henry as Burr (right).

I thought the show’s most complex character was not Hamilton, who stayed steadfast and unchanged in his beliefs, but Aaron Burr, who goes from being a petulant wannabe politician, to a wiser and more emphatic man – after being the “damn fool who shot him [Hamilton] “.

King George appears alone on stage several times, with messages from across the pond.  His three musical interludes are just delightful  “You’ll be Back” ,”What Comes Next”, “I Know Him”: Listen HERE

Both Husband and I were mesmerized, sitting forward in our seats to catch every phrase, every nuance.  We left the theater a few inches above ground and feeling like the luckiest couple in the world.

If you get a chance to see Hamilton, just do it.

As to our kind and generous friends – (who would not let us pay for the tickets) – we are now indentured lifetime babysitters.

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