Even Before the show’s exhilarating, propulsive opening ensemble number “The Gospel” is over, it is clear that this is going to be a special night. Alicia Keys’ 12-years-in-the-making loosely autobiographical musical, Hell’s Kitchen, with a book by Pulitzer Prize-finalist playwright Kristoffer Diaz, is a breathtaking triumph. No wonder a Broadway transfer from its extended sell-out run at the Public Theater has already been announced for April 2024.
Frustrated seventeen-year-old Ali (Maleah Joi Moon) is our narrator and guide to the titular Midtown Manhattan neighbourhood, just to the west of Times Square. It is the mid-1990s, before the gays had moved up from Chelsea, and just as Mayor Giuliani was promising to “clean up” the city (“don’t worry, this show is not about him”, Ali reassures us). She spends most of her time isolated, high above Hell’s Kitchen on the 44th floor of the one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan Plaza—an affordable housing building for artists on 43rd Street between 9th and 10th Avenues—that she shares with her loving, but overprotective mother, Jersey (a fantastic Shoshana Bean). When at home, Ali feels like a caged bird, restlessly looking down on the city streets where there is so much happening that she wants to be part of. She feels like she is missing out on the life that she is “dying to begin”, as she sings in “The River”. Something is calling her—a purpose—but she doesn’t know what it is yet.
In an imaginatively staged sequence, Ali introduces us to the apartment complex through her eyes—and ears—as the building’s elevator descends. On her way down those 44 floors, she takes in the eclectic sounds of the resident musicians playing and singing, captivatingly evoked by Moon’s performance, enhanced by Robert Brill’s effectively spare but dynamic multistory scenic design and Peter Nigrini atmospheric projection design. Then we share in Ali’s thrill when she is finally free, out on the city streets that she is so intoxicated by. She takes it all in, not forgetting “the roaches and the rats”! When outside, Ali can be found hanging out with her spirited and fun best friends Jessica (Jackie Leon) and Tiny (Vanessa Ferguson). Most likely, the trio will be admiring the hot guys playing on their buckets outside Manhattan Plaza; Riq (Lamont Walker II), Q (Jakeim Hart), and—Ali’s crush—Knuck (Chris Lee).
Jersey makes sure that dinner is on the table every night at six before she heads off to work the evening shift at her second job. She’s a dedicated mom who is trying her best. In fact, maybe she is trying a little too hard to control her daughter’s life and keep her safe, determined that Ali won’t make the same mistakes that she did. Namely, an unexpected pregnancy that led to Jersey giving up on her performing career to take care of Ali. With a swelteringly hot New York City summer on the way, one that will be transformative for Ali, Jersey fears that skimpy streetwear and raging teenage hormones will get her daughter into trouble. But you can’t live someone else’s life for them, and the more Jersey attempts to tighten her grip, the more Ali resists and resents it, until things reach a breaking point.
Wanting to keep Ali away from the bucket players, especially Knuck, Jersey instructs the building doorman, Ray (Chad Carstarphen), to call the cops if he sees them. It is an action that leads to one of the standout numbers in the show, the incredibly moving “Perfect Way to Die” from Keys’ September 2020 album ALICIA. It is performed with heartbreaking passion by Kecia Lewis as Ali’s neighbour, Miss Liza Jane, who has become a piano teacher and something of an unlikely mentor to the teenager. Keys’ original recording is impactful enough, but sung live and in the context of the show, it is devastatingly beautiful, encapsulating the pain, anger, and hope of that summer of Black Lives Matter protests across the nation. The cry in Lewis’ voice screams “say their names”, channeling the anguish and grief of the countless mothers who have lost their children to police violence. The orchestration, by music supervisor Adam Blackstone and Tom Kitt (with music director Dominic Fallacaro and music coordinator Kristy Norter), is confrontingly and poignantly stripped back compared to much of the rest of the show, with Lewis at the piano delivering one of those rare, transcendent interpretations that is the perfect marriage between performer, role, and song. When the intermission began I couldn’t move from my seat.
Although she is only in a few secenes, Miss Liza Jane has a major impact on Ali and leaves a lasting impression on the audience. It is chiefly through her character that Hell’s Kitchen honours America’s often overlooked Black musical heritage. Passing on her knowledge to Ali, she pays tribute to several musical matriarchs as their images appear on the screen behind her; classical pianist and composer Florence Price; composer and pianist Margaret Bonds; and jazz pianist and singer Hazel Scott. While the show’s opening song name-checks Sam Cooke and the practice room in Manhattan Plaza where Miss Liza gives Ali lessons is named after Duke Ellington.
Unlike some musicals that weave in hits from an artist’s back catalogue, Hell’s Kitchen never relies on the buzz for the audience of hearing a familiar track or goes for an easy laugh from the way it leads into a song. Neither are the well-known numbers used too reverentially. When “Girl On Fire” kicks in for instance—as Ali is starting to feel herself now she has a boyfriend and is proving a natural at the piano—it is nicely undercut with a comment from Tiny, “The world is hers ’cause she’s got a man now? That’s what we’re doing?!” Which only adds to the impact of the song in its new context.
Keys’ established songbook makes the transition to musical theatre feeling like it was written for the stage, and the use of the songs feels organic and never crowbarred into the narrative. Ali imagining her first date with Knuck as she sings “You Don’t Know My Name” could not be more perfect, nor could Knuck’s first solo, “Gramercy Park”, with its lyrics echoing the nuances of his spoken dialogue about the way that the world perceives young Black men as “thugs” and “gangstas” without taking in the individual in front of them. While the cool, sexy vibe of “Un-thinkable (I’m Ready)” sung by Knuck and Ali before they share their first kiss, is just right for that moment.
In an evocative 1970s flashback scene that is aching with nostalgia, Jersey’s ex and Ali’s father, Davis, played by Brandon Victor Dixon, sounds sublime busking in the park on his standup piano singing “Not Even the King”, while “Fallin'” fits the history of Davis and Jersey’s relationship like a glove. Crucially, like any good musical theatre number, these songs give us further insight into the characters and allow them to express themselves emotionally while driving the narrative forward. Keys is a poet, a philosopher, and gifted storyteller and in this new form, her lyrics take on fresh, even deeper meaning.
Maleah Joi Moon is a revelation as Ali. While her richly expressive voice—mellifluous, but with a real bite when it needs it—soars, she keeps her performance remarkably grounded and natural, as does the rest of the impressive ensemble. Director Michael Greif keeps things pacy, while finding intimate moments of connection between characters throughout. Camille A. Brown’s choreography fills the stage with energy, expressing the emotional heart of each song while bringing another dimension to it. There’s a beautiful flow to her movements, with interpretive elements that capture the beauty of dance in its purest form.
This show is brimming with love, combined with a love of music. Ali’s first romantic love comes as she falls for Knuck playing on his bucket, just as two decades before her mother first fell for Davis as he played on the piano in the park. The absent father who doesn’t know how to reciprocate his daughter’s love, attempts to reconnect with her through song. There is the bond between a mentor and her protégé, and most centrally, the love between mother and daughter, with Jersey singing “Love Looks Better” to Ali, and movingly duetting on “No One”. And of course, there is Ali’s love for her neighnourhood and the city at large.
Hell’s Kitchen is a hymn to New York, that successfully expands into musical theatre form what Keys’ encapsulated in “Empire State of Mind” (which she co-wrote); the thrill of being a New Yorker, and the feeling of walking its mean streets, with all of their grit, grime, hardship, glamour, and pulsating promise of possibility. When that song itself finally arrive during the show’s electrifying finale, rearranged just enough so you feel like you’re hearing it anew, it enhanced by the projections, which have largely been abstract, as images of the cityscape come into sharp focus. Now put your lighters in the air, and everybody say, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah”. Let’s hear it for Hell’s Kitchen. This show is on fire.
By James Kleinmann
Hell’s Kitchen runs at The Public Theater until Sunday, January 14th, 2024 and will transfer to Broadway’s Shubert Theatre with performances beginning Thursday, March 28th, 2024, opening officially on Saturday, April 20th, 2024. Tickets for the Broadway run are on sale now at HellsKitchen.com and Telecharge.com.
Alicia Keys and Broadway’s Hell’s Kitchen have announced the establishment of a Fellowship Program, dedicated to building and strengthening the Broadway employment pipeline by engaging and employing individuals from historically overlooked communities to become active and continuous participants in the Broadway workforce. The Fellowship Program will place Fellows across nine departments, including: Direction, Choreography, Scenic Design, Costume Design, Lighting Design, Sound Design, Projection Design, Company Management/Executive Producing and Public Relations. Applications are now open at HellsKitchen.com.
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