‘Miss Saigon’ @ Casa Mañana
Photos by Nicki Behm Photography
—Teresa Marrero
Contrary to the analogy often made between Madame Butterfly and Miss Saigon, the latter is by far more emotionally raw and hard-hitting. It spares no one. Casa Mañana’s excellent production left me wondering how we could sit through this spectacle as entertainment —and not as a tragic piece of American foreign policy failure. The cost was all too human and too high.
Without going too far down the rabbit hole, there have been multiple versions and tweaks to the lyrics of Miss Saigon since the original production in 1989. But whatever the changes, Miss Saigon´s visual and lyrical worlds do not sugar coat. With music by Frenchman Claude-Michel Schönberg (of Les Misérables fame) and two lyricists—American Richard Maltby Jr. and Tunisian Alain Boublil (adapted from the original French lyrics by Boublil)—the most updated lyrics add emotional impact to the main characters of Kim (Mikako Martin), The Engineer (Lou Diamond Phillips), Chris (Louis Griffin), and Ellen (Jessica Martens).
With original scenic design by Katie Dill, the sparse, semi-circular, no backstage set design relies on a scrim that closely resembles a huge fold-up drawstring curtain, allowing for some entrances and exits through partial openings and some rather (I assume intentionally) fuzzy projections to offer a sense of place. (Lighting and projection design by Samuel Rushen.) For me, the fuzziness of the projections worked as a plus, giving the scenes a sense of place out of place, a sort of liminality, punctuating the complexity in time-space of the relationships at hand.
The famous opening scene was emulated by resounding helicopter sound (from Allan Branson) hovering overhead with high beam lights flashed onto the audience from above.
During the first half of the show, each scene evolved in a predictable way, given what is known of the plot: an ill-fated, two-week romance between a young American GI Chris and the virginal, first-time bar girl Kim. Dressed in military green, Griffin´s Chris demonstrated both strength and vulnerability when faced with the innocent Martin´s Kim, dressed in white. The bar scene had a whole lot of booty shaking and sexual innuendos proper to a ´hostess bar´(i.e., a brothel) making this play not suitable for younger audiences. That plus the language: a striking line at the beginning bar scene has Gigi (Tara Park) say these ¨soldiers curse like men and fuck like boys.”
The GIs’ loneliness could not be abated by casual sex, and the orphan Vietnamese girl tells the story of how she got there out of need, her family killed during the war. It builds a deep sense of sympathy for these characters caught in the middle of historical events beyond their control. The central bed scene and their first night is tastefully done. The chemistry between Martin and Griffin is palpable and touching, their strong and beautiful voices create a harmony of hearts.
And then we have the Engineer, skillfully played by Phillips as a vaudevillesque, opportunist, amoral, and greedy Indo-Frenchman (we must recall that before being called Vietnam/Viet Nam, the French colonizers called the country Indochine/Indochina). To say it bluntly, he’s a pimp, making his living off women´s bodies and men´s unbridled sexual appetites. His spine is flexible, and his allegiance follows where the chance of power and survival lead him. He is constantly dreaming of the American Dream and displaying his ´talents´ as a raging, money hungry capitalist. Phillips is both charismatic and deplorable in his portrayal of the Engineer.
Thuy (Timothy E. Lee), the man to whom Kim was promised as a young girl (and who later becomes a military figure in the red Vietnamese army), makes a strong presence, as does John (Andy Zapata) as Chris´ commander. He is responsible for getting Chris to vacate the country during the hectic last hours of US military evacuation, and for helping Kim find Chris (eventually) to reveal something that will rock Chris’ world—and that of his new American wife Ellen (Martens). The momentum of the plot, carried entirely through song, was fluid and effective, never feeling artificial—and the performers´ voices projected quite strongly and energetically.
The second half of the show began with a statement about the world’s responsibility for the children begat during wartime by military men—who are mostly abandoned to be raised by impoverished mothers.
As far as character development, Kim´s undying love and faithfulness to the promise she and Chris made to each other is well-portrayed by Mikako Martin. It seems clear she has a strong emotional connection with her character, and brings true gravitas to the role. Chris´s ongoing PTSD makes him a man to be pitied, however flawed he is. The situation that falls on the unknowing wife Ellen also rings painfully human and true. And the Engineer? After escaping Vietnam in a boat, this ultra-survivor (of course) finds a a way to survive and thrive. The customers are now wealthy Chinese men rather than American GI´s—but as he sings, men´s sexual passions are always the same.
Director-choreographer Greg Zane (with choreographer-associate director Kristine Bendul) does a fabulous job keeping the action moving through the aisles, onstage, and throughout the actual dance pieces. Of particular opulence was a scene of the Viet Cong military victory, featuring the Dragon Dancer Danny Tran.
Miss Saigon was enthusiastically received with a standing ovation following the Sunday matinee, whose audience included a sizeable number of Asian (possibly Vietnamese) attendees.
I still struggle with this story about a particularly harsh and painful era of American and Vietnamese history. But in theater terms, it does have all the elements of a true tragedy. It is also aligned with Schönberg’s aesthetic of dramatizing the “human parts” of grand historical moments, as he did with Les Misérables.
The fabulous live orchestra was under the baton of music director Edward G. Robinson.
Cast members also include: Joel Kaimakani Libed (Assistant Commissar), Viet Vo (Owner of the Moulin Rouge), Noah Archibald (Schultz). The ensemble includes: Michael Alonzo, Keely Anders, Noah Archibald, Kristine Bendul, Averie D. Bishop, John Michael Hass, Evan Jennings, Timothy H. Lee, Joel Kamaikani Libed, Roberto Lopez Jr., Christopher Nguyen, Danny Tran, and Viet Vo.
And last but not least: Kudos to Casa Mañana for its culturally responsible casting.
Teresa Marrero is Professor of Latin American and Latiné Theater in the Spanish Department at the University of North Texas.
WHEN: June 7-11, 2023
WHERE: Casa Mañana, 3101 W. Lancaster, Fort Worth
WEB: casamañana.org
