With decency in such short supply, it’s good to be reminded of its existence — and Come From Away does a good job of doing that. The musical isn’t particularly musical or substantial, but it is uplifting, and within those terms, this production is both welcome and successful.
With a book, music, and lyrics by the married Canadian team of Irene Sankoff and David Hein, Come From Away recounts the five days that started on September 11, 2001, when 38 planes carrying almost 7,000 people were diverted to Gander, Newfoundland (population 9,000) and surrounding communities. With the world reeling from the shock of the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon, those stranded travelers were met with openheartedness and generosity from the people of Newfoundland. Emergency facilities were set up, locals opened their homes, food was provided — and so, crucially, was bonhomie, in the form of a gigantic barbecue, a pub night, and friendship.
So Come From Away is a kind of romance about the relationship between a dislocated, disparate population of international travelers and the grounded, grounding population that embraced them.
That’s lovely. It’s heartwarming.
At the same time, this scale, the musical’s ambition to present an overview — creates problems, chief among them being that individual characters and specific relationships are more indicated than developed. We meet passengers Nick and Diane, for instance, strangers who flirt around the edges of romance, and two gay passengers, a couple who are both named Kevin but who struggle with their differences. A Gander teacher named Beulah and a passenger named Hannah, who’s desperately trying to locate her firefighter son in New York, form a bond. There’s pleasure to be had in these storylines, but they’re mostly predictable and they’re only sketched in.
That leaves an odd hollowness where you might reasonably expect a plot. In the early going, Come From Away treads water for a long time: the passengers don’t know what’s happening, they don’t know what’s happening, they don’t know what’s happening. Okay. Late in the unbroken 100-minute run time, American Airlines pilot Beverley sings “Me and the Sky”, which is about her struggle to become a pilot within the sexist aviation industry. Again, okay, but where’s the momentum, where’s the middle? Where are the scenes?
Given the nature of this material, there aren’t a lot of opportunities for actors to really dig down. But all the performers in this mounting understand the musical’s true assignment, which is to charm, and many are particularly good at it.
The unforced warmth that Stephanie Wolfe brings to her performance as Beulah, the teacher, embodies the heart of this production for me. And, as Beulah’s narrative partner Hannah, Lisa Michelle offers a clear soprano that’s one of the show’s most pleasing voices.
Tenaj Williams manages to be energetic, cynical, and sincere all at once as a New Yorker named Bob who’s struggling to accept the generosity that’s being offered to him. William’s contained turn as a frightened African passenger is equally successful.
Playing Kevin T, the Kevin who wears plaid, if you’ve seen the show, Vance Avery never puts a foot wrong: committed presence, beautiful voice, perfect diction, emotional nuance, sense of humour. Thank you very much.
Garrett Ross brings exactly the right combination of awkwardness and wit to Nick, the would-be Romeo. And Andrew Wheeler is having the time of his life with the eccentricities of Gander’s mayor Claude and others.
The music, which has been nominated for significant awards, including a Tony, strikes me as undifferentiated and relentless. Enough with the percussion, already! Enough with the forced buoyancy.
But the song “Prayer” stands out as an exception. Sung by Kevin T and the company, it’s contemplative. Kevin remembers a Catholic hymn from his childhood: “Make me a channel of your peace/ Where there’s despair in life/ Let me bring hope/ Where there is darkness, only light.” A rabbi joins in, singing “Oseh Shalom”, a Jewish prayer for peace. Muslim and Hindu contributions layer in. In this island of calm, the inclusivity and shared goodness wrecked me.
Lorenzo Savioni’s elemental set, an open space backed by huge, rotating wooden doors and surrounded by rock, is both functional and very handsome. Always evocative, Sophie Tang’s lighting hits a high note in “Prayer”: with the characters lit from behind, their shadows, including their observant religious gestures, cover the theatre’s walls, including us in the ceremony.
I don’t think Come From Away is a perfect vehicle. Still, after watching it, I left the theatre feeling good, even a bit renewed. Although I understand the attacks of nine-eleven were embedded in dark, ongoing politics, like so many others, I experienced the day as a sudden, awful shock. These days, I feel like we’re living through rolling shocks, a weirdly normalized but still horrifying series of moral and human disasters.
In its championing of basic human decency, Come From Away provided a balm post-nine-eleven, but it also speaks to today, and I’m grateful for that.
COME FROM AWAY Book, music, and lyrics by Irene Sankoff and David Hein. Directed by Ashlie Corcoran. Coproduced by the Arts Club Theatre Company and the Citadel Theatre. At the Stanley Theatre until August 16. Tickets and information.
PHOTO CREDIT: (Photo of Andrew Wheeler and Vance Avery by Moonrider Productions)
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