The Outsiders
(Photo: Matthew Murphy)
By Fern Siegel (Posted April 20, 2024)
Rival gangs and a rumble – the famous backdrop to West Side Story – has its latest incarnation in The Outsiders, now on Broadway at the Jacobs Theater.
The musical, set in 1967 Tulsa, Oklahoma, is based on S. E. Hinton’s YA book of the same name. It revolves around two gangs: the Greasers and the Socs (pronounced “sosh” short for Socials).
The new production hews closely to her vision — a few weeks in the life of 14-year-old Ponyboy Curtis (Brody Grant) and his friends, Johnny Cade (Sky Lakota-Lynch), Dallas (Joshua Boone) and Two-Bit (Daryl Tofa). They are the troubled outsiders, poor kids from the wrong side of the tracks, who fight just to survive. Even crossing a park means getting beaten by the entitled, brutal Socs, led by Bob (Kevin William Paul), who attack with impunity.
Ponyboy is a sensitive, smart orphan, living with two older brothers, Darrel (Brent Comer) and Sodapop (Jason Schmidt). Their parents were killed in a car accident — and all their lives have crashed. Darrel, in a dead-end job to support the family, has some sensitive ballads expressing his rage and sorrow.
There are additional characters, such as Cherry, Bob’s girlfriend (Emma Pittman), who connects with Ponyboy. But girls are inconsequential here. The real connections are between Ponyboy and his friends, who band together in adolescent angst and confusion, finding solace in belonging.
However, the show takes too long to establish its emotional footing — and while it’s often energetic and well-performed, it’s not until nearly intermission and act two, that things turn dark. A deadly gang battle forces Ponyboy and Johnny to flee — with terrible results.
The score by Jamestown Revival (Jonathan Clay and Zach Chance), along with Justin Levine, boasts moving numbers, shellacked with a country twang, that capture both anger and resignation. Levine co-wrote the musical’s book with Adam Rapp.
Rick and Jeff Kuperman’s choreography, especially the fight scenes, are well-executed. They are often shown in cinematic slow-motion, punctuated by Brian MacDevitt’s dramatic lighting and Cody Spencer’s excellent sound design. An old car sits on the side of the stage and a few wooden boards and tractor tires do double duty as props to keep the action moving.
Director Danya Taymor presents Tulsa as a barren landscape of broken dreams and few possibilities. (Though Tulsa was segregated in the 1960s, in this 21st-century rendering, the Greasers are black and white, and there is a girl in the gang.)
Grant is a strong performer, as is Boone. The latter has physical charisma, while Grant’s vulnerable air carries the show. But despite notable visuals, one gets the feeling the book, a searing examination of class cruelty, is the best medium to tell this story.