When I went to start writing this week’s post, I had intended to go long on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. With presidential debates last week (and vice presidents in the week ahead), I felt inspired to continue my rabbit hole into the world of political musicals. While I doubt that anything will match the wonderful discovery of First Daughters Suite, I wanted to believe that a show featuring the collaborative force of Leonard Bernstein and Alan Jay Lerner would actually produce an unlikely masterpiece. After all, you’re talking about the forces behind (collectively) West Side Story and My Fair Lady: two of the greatest musicals in history (the latter being my all-time favorite).
Besides the issue of there not being a strict recording of the music, I discovered quickly how foolish this was going to be. All that I could find was an audio recording of the entire show. After 45 minutes (the first 15 being underwhelming), I had to jump ship. Had I completed it, I might argue that it would be among the worst things that I’ve had the pleasure of writing about on here. Which is a shame because I adore Lerner’s work with Frederick Loewe. This was a nightmare of antiquated misery, including what I can only assume was minstrelsy performances by the Black supporting cast… in 1976. Ouch. I am forgiving of musicals if I can recognize their intent, but Bernstein & Lerner is one of the dumbest pairings of masters since Stephen Sondheim & Richard Rodgers III.
Which is a long way of saying that I didn’t choose Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson as a replacement because it was short, featuring a brisk soundtrack that would get me in and out within 45 minutes. While it’s true that part of my day feels wasted on a failed project, I have been curious to watch this show for years.
It comes in one of the easiest forms of marketing imaginable. Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson was listed as “Hamilton before Hamilton” (similarly, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s been blurbed as saying “There wouldn’t be Hamilton without 1776”). There’s something appealing about that to me. How do you make a noteworthy political figure into this great musical? For me personally, I love diving into anything that takes a creative spin on presidential history, forcing us to look at the past in new and meaningful ways. While I come out of this not feeling it as successful and dangerous as the phenomenal Assassins, it definitely has a strangely perfect fit for my sensibilities.
Anyone who has been following the music side of The Memory Tourist, you’ll recognize how much of my earlier years were defined by the pop-punk records. I grew up at the height of the genre alongside emo, which the show more directly pulls from. It’s definitely a show with a snotty attitude, designed as a vicious satire of an icon to reflect how he was history’s first emo kid: dead parents, abused by society, feeling misunderstood, and slashing his wrists. When you get down to it, that is kind of brilliant, especially as an Off-Broadway work.
It’s extremely difficult to think of Jackson without getting into some icky topics. On the surface, the eighth President of the United States has long held popularity for a variety of reasons. He created The Democratic Party and, simultaneously, The Whig Party who hated him. He balanced the budget (with certain unethical sacrifices) and helped to set a precedent for the longest-lasting American political party. However, his arrogance is undeniable and once lead to a deadly duel with Charles Dickinson following negative criticism. It also, in more damning words, lead to a negative relationship with Native Americans that included The Trail of Tears. As someone who has had ancestors who walked that trail, it’s a weird selling point.
In all honesty, it’s hard to tell if modern generations will like Jackson because of how rapidly the opinion of the past is changing. I think most commonly of the argument that Thomas Jefferson wrote The Declaration of Independence, BUT he also owned slaves (as if one negated his entire legacy). Slavery is America’s original sin, and I imagine looking at Jackson closer will only make scrutiny much more difficult, even if he’s constantly ranked among the Top 20 presidents in history. This is all stuff that’s kept me from checking out this show because, honestly, it feels like it would just be problematic.
This isn’t wrong. The show was once infamously dropped from Raleigh Little Theater’s line-up because of its portrayal of Native Americans – all played by white actors. The show, penned by Michael Friedman and Alex Timbers, was designed as a satire that criticized as well as celebrated the legacy of Jackson, asking audiences why we truly like him. This was a journey into the idea of populism, that the government should be for the people. Was Jackson really the right figure or that? It’s a complicated story, and one that even comments on its own problematic history with “Ten Little Indians.”
Plain and simple, it’s a song about mass murder. With clever rhyme schemes, they count down how each of them died. It’s a sobering moment in a show full of raw energy that puts into perspective what Jackson’s behavior ultimately did. It soured America’s relationship with Native Americans, kicking them off of their land and not exactly treating them with southern comfort. There’s even later commentary about how people don’t condone Jackson’s actions, though they may implicitly be relieved to have elbow room because it “never snows in Florida.” Like most of the show, it’s a dark commentary and makes you understand that this show isn’t ignoring the bad stuff. It’s just another piece in a very violent musical.
But besides that, is there anything substantial to the show? As I mentioned, it’s so rooted in emo rock that I am wired to like the sound immediately. It’s a bit cheeky, sure, but the way that it turns political arguments into rousing anthems is at times brilliant, managing to make you implicitly love this guy more. You understand him on a sonic level from the moment “Populism, Yea, Yea!” starts up, feeling your feel tapping and wanting to get into it. Jackson already feels rebellious just by not sounding like a musical protagonist we’ve ever heard before. By “The Corrupt Bargain,” it’s found a groove that is infectious even if you’re worried that this is a contrived piece of novelty.
I know that I’ve continually compared this show to everything else, but it’s because of how much this show feels like a culmination of trends. For instance, this hits a similar vein as Spring Awakening (though nowhere near as good if you ask me) where young characters pour their heart out, backed by a conventional rock quartet as they have these amazing lyrics about their own personal pain. It’s also reminiscent of American Idiot, which is an album I really like but have no interest in ever seeing the stage show (maybe if you pay me $1000 on Patreon, I will). It was very much a piece of time that just happened to coalesce nicely with my late-teens.
One of the sadder details I discovered when researching Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson was that it bombed because of a shift in cultural interest at the time. It wasn’t just George W. Bush into Barrack Obama. It was that rock music was becoming inferior in Top 40 to hip-hop and, frankly, I wish it was anywhere as interesting as what Timbers and Friedman did here. To me, there used to be life and excitement in rock that shifted into something that was not for me. The strange folk-rock boom of Mumford & Sons (outside of Inside Llewyn Davis (2015)) and whatever Imagine Dragons is has led to one of my least favorite times for popular rock music.
I think it adds a lot to why this show resonates at all with me. It’s not so much the subject, which feels over the top and ridiculous. It’s the perfect concept for Off-Broadway and I would dig seeing this on a Friday night for cheap. On Broadway, I get why it failed. It was too esoteric, unable to compete with more conventional shows that didn’t push boundaries and potentially endorse a homicidal maniac. While it was maybe the most anarchic and entertaining political musical in eons, feeling like a remnant from the Rent phenomenon, it was also too confusing to sell without just saying to just go for it.
There is plenty that makes me believe that this whole show was a miracle that it didn’t suffer greatly. Whatever it set out to achieve, it did perfectly. Want to put Jackson in eyeliner and tight pants? Sure, why not. Everything was lavish and embracing what the best of theater did. It allowed you to tell a story with as many creative twists as possible. I don’t know that it’s an accurate look at Jackson’s life, but it gives you a new understanding of what his work ultimately meant. He was such a wild, raucous man and yet he feels so familiar at times. Even as he slathers a woman in blood, there is something quintessentially mid-2000s about it all. How could this self-destructive man possibly be good for the country?
What’s maybe weirder is that this show hasn’t really had any major reckoning in light of current events. I feel like Jackson is due for some scrutiny, though I can’t say for what. There’s definitely something sexy about this musical that makes you think that he’s this great hero. In some respects, he was. He changed democracy. In some ways, he sought to fix every problem while permanently labeling The Democratic Party with a donkey logo because, ahem, he was a jackass.
Even if this week’s entry didn’t go in the direction that I desired, it allowed me to cross this chestnut off of my list. While I don’t love it as a show, I can’t deny that it achieves an exciting rock sound that makes me feel engaged, wanting to rock out while learning about history. Sure it’s no Hamilton and it favors brevity and repetition, but boy does it work at getting you pumped up, giving you that extra boost of joy for when you’re feeling “misunderstood.”
In all respect, I also didn’t realize that I’ve been secretly a fan of Timbers for years now. I’ve even covered him before on here, if by accident. Among his credits include Ben Platt’s excellent Live from Radio City Music Hall (2020). He also did great work as a staging director for The Pee-Wee Herman Show (2011) when it was revived. While no masterpiece, The Golden Globe-winning Mozart in the Jungle is a nice show with a fun look at musicians (and it has Bernadette Peters!). He’s also working on the upcoming American Utopia (2020), which has gotten nothing but positive reviews.
While Friedman unfortunately passed in 2017, I think that Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson set Timbers career off on a high note. If nothing else, I’m curious to see more by him and to see if his other theater takes as many interesting risks like this. I love that this is a satire that doesn’t play it safe, having that familiar emo snarl and sarcasm that works at creating a unique portrait of Old Hickory. There’s something meaningful and substantial here, even if I still wouldn’t have picked Jackson as the president to make a musical about. But hey, that’s what makes theater so great. The unexpected rush of this soundtrack is amazing at its best, and the perfect way to get through a boring afternoon. What more do you want?
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