But please don’t call it a Broadway musical. You could scare away too many people who might actually enjoy it.
Call it a rock concert with a story to tell, trimmed with a lot of great jokes. Or call it a sprawling work of performance art, complete with angry rants and scary drag queens. Call it whatever you want, really. I’ll just call it wonderful, and a welcome anomaly on Broadway, which can use all the vigorous new artistic blood it can get.
. . .as an African-American who grew up comfortably in Los Angeles, where he defiantly cleaved to Zen Buddhism and punk rock, thumbing his nose at church and Mom and the prospect of middle-class achievement, Stew brings an invigorating new perspective to the classic coming-of-age narrative.
In case you missed the review, you can read it here.
Now–as I’ve said before–run, don’t walk, to see this.