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Isn’t it ironic?
Jagged Little Pill: The Musical, currently playing at the Centennial Concert Hall, is an unusual take on a jukebox musical — our theatre reviewer Ben Waldman very cleverly calls it a “boombox musical” in his 3.5-star review — in that it doesn’t attempt to tell the biography of the artist, the way, say, Jersey Boys does with the Four Seasons.
Instead, book writer Diablo Cody (Juno, Young Adult) shoehorns the songs of Canadian superstar Alanis Morissette’s 1995 album into a very modern story that touches on family dynamics, racism, gender issues and drug addiction.
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My boss Paul Samyn loved the show, but as he admits, he has no real emotional connection to the source material.
I’m a bit too old for Jagged Little Pill to have really resonated with me — in 1995, I was 24 and firmly in my major-label-acts-are-sellouts phase — but despite my relative indifference to it, the album is basically part of my DNA. By force of musical osmosis, it has wormed its way into my brain, and I know every word to most of the tracks.
Jagged Little Pill: The Musical follows Mary Jane, a mother with a fine life — on the surface. (Matthew Murphy / Elman Studio)
For this reason (perhaps ironically?), Jagged Little Pill: The Musical didn’t really work for me. Yes, it made me cry three times (THRICE!). Yes, the performances were often electrifying. Yes, the choreography — especially in two key scenes — was inventive and evocative and incredibly moving.
But Morissette’s songs already have their own narratives that live in my head, whether it’s just the ways I’ve visualized what she’s singing about or connections they have to events in my own life by virtue of being their soundtrack.
Listening to her lyrics being bent and contorted to fit the stories played out onstage felt forced and inorganic; Cody’s book really crams in a lot of diverse plot points, often feeling like an overstuffed After School Special.
I also missed the way musicals usually have you leaving the theatre humming the showstopping song, often worked in thematically throughout the production. You Oughta Know and Hand in My Pocket are certified rock classics at this point, but they don’t scratch that musical-theatre itch for me. I am subjected to them almost weekly on Winnipeg radio, so hearing them performed by vocalists, however talented, who don’t possess Morissette’s unique alto wail feels like karaoke, with really energetic backup dancers.
What album do you think would make a great, classic jukebox musical?
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