Sung to Death: How Cygnet Theater’s Musical Monday Explores Mortality
By Lindsay Sopko
This week, San Diego’s Cygnet Theatre premiered Nothing But The Truth(ish), a one-night-only performance chock full of gumption, technical difficulties, and a glaring showdown with one’s own mortality.
Much like the struggle to get out of bed on a Monday morning, the production of Nothing But the Truth(ish) stretched and yawned and moaned its way across the black box theater to the opening strains of “Born to Lead” from Operation Mincemeat. The charming cast members crooned into their microphones despite issues with the audio mixing, the emcee yelling to be heard over the recorded musical track as she and her principal stars strode across the stage. The nearly packed audience, faces awash in butter-yellow light, looked on with rapt attention, toes tapping along to the upbeat tempo.
The song’s conclusion brought rousing applause and an Alex Trebek style Q&A with the crowd, the host asking audience members if they recognized the song (they did) before introducing the next artist, Cody Bianchi. Perched on his piano bench, accompanist Bianchi launched into a heartfelt explanation for his song choice: “Why” from tick, tick…BOOM. As a thirty-something (he emphasized the “something”) performing artist, Bianchi resonated with the themes of anxiety surrounding aging and artistic failure which the musical number wrestles with. His performance seemed to strike a chord with audience members, whose rueful smiles dotted the shadowed corners of the theater.
Their bittersweet reflections needn’t last long, though, before Bianchi’s arrangement gave way to a spunky vaudeville performance from aspiring Broadway actress Alyssa Anne Austin. A vision in pink, Austin dazzled the audience with her plucky stage blocking and impressive vocal range. Tenaciously powering through a microphone mishap, Austin’s rendition of “I’m The Greatest Star” from Funny Girl was a cheerful companion piece to Bianchi’s, both songs a defiant affirmation to life in the arts.
It’s unsurprising, then, that the ensuing artists should pay tribute to their number one fans. Singing “Mama, A Rainbow” from Minnie’s Boys, Luke H. Jacobs sang not only for the musical lovers in the audience, but for his mother seated proudly in the top row. He presented her with a bouquet of yellow daisies before relinquishing the stage to co-star Allen Lucky Weaver, who performed “I Got Life” from Hair. Weaver dedicated the song to his mother, who was recently diagnosed with dementia. On its face, this tribute may seem unusual (especially when Weaver, with a flourish, announced proudly: “I’ve got my ass”). Within the context of the play (a stark examination of the Vietnam draft and those, in America, that decide who live and die), Weaver’s song selection highlights the idea that life, above all else, is the most important thing one can possess.
Passed like an Olympic baton, this throughline gains momentum with Jacob Caltrider’s rendition of “Ballad” from Dead Outlaw. Wheeled in on a dolly, Caltrider looms silent – skulking in the darkness before an awkwardly belated spotlight is pointed his direction. Caltrider then launches into the haunting melody, highlighting what the emcee called an “ode to what we leave behind.”
The show takes a jarring turn as Caltrider concludes his crooning and co-star Lena Ceja saunters onto the stage. Though glued to her music stand at center stage, Ceja pours her heart and soul into “All You Wanna Do” from the musical Six. With a stunning vocal range and clever delivery, Ceja lulls the initially shocked crowd into conspiratorial head nodding about the failed sexual pursuits of Katherine Howard (the fifth wife of King Henry VIII). It may be a stretch to include this musical selection in the program’s running motif, but the song’s underlying tones of desperation and frustration seem well suited for a show about life and death (Katherine was, after all, beheaded by the protestant king).
This anthem of regret and female rage transitions quickly into a battle of the sexes between Ceja and Jacobs, who perform a well-harmonized version of "Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better” from Annie Get Your Gun. While highly entertaining, one can’t help but feel like they’ve accidentally changed the channel mid-movie and are fumbling with the remote. This disjointedness is only exacerbated by the following duet by Austin and Bianchi: “Come Save Me” from The Boy From Oz. It’s certainly not far-fetched to claim the sentiments of the song have a place in the show, especially when Austin sings “Maybe I just won't last / If I'm not with you forever.” However, the overall tone of the song seems capricious compared to the preceding musical selections, and the delivery of the song itself leaves room for improvement.
After this detour, we’re treated to Jacobs in a headscarf as he serenades us with “The Revolutionary Costume for Today" from Grey Gardens. This humorous hit, delivered with tenacious blocking and well-timed quirk, quickly reorients the audience; we’re now firmly back in the territory of bucking the status quo under duress (but never underdressed).
Finally, our 90 minute musical Monday concludes with an appearance from none other than Jesus himself – well, Caltrider portraying Jesus. Ending the night with a rockstar performance of “Gethsemane” from Jesus Christ Superstar, Caltrider grounds the audience with the quintessential questions of “must I?” and, if so, “why?”
Legacy, at the expense of everything else.