On December 19, 2021, Diana the Musical officially played its last show on Broadway. Very soon, Daniel Craig’s version of Macbeth will take its place at The Longacre Theatre. It’s a somber reality that most major theatrical productions fear, especially new and untested shows that already have so many financial investments to consider. To survive in New York is difficult with dozens of shows annually disappearing into obscurity. Even then, the La Jolla Playhouse transplant had one of the strangest journeys to this day, of playing a mere 33 shows and 16 previews. It was met with a strong, vitriolic response. Many called it the flop that Broadway deserved. It all seems so cruel, and yet I sympathize with Diana the Musical as another victim of pandemic culture and, more specifically, the uncertain future of art in 2020.
I remember a time almost a year ago. NBC had put on a special where various Broadway musicals were set to perform. With everyone from Jersey Boys to Jagged Little Pill, it was one of those moments that reminded me why I loved theater. It wasn’t the most elaborate production, but the passion of people harmonizing, moving freely in a way that a Zoom-centric life couldn’t sustain. It made me eager to return to the theater. It would be another seven months before I actually did. It was also scary because 2020 was the first year in over a decade where I didn’t latch onto an OBCR. I needed new shows, something to give me tunes to memorize.
Somewhere in the mix was the promise of a sneak preview of Diana the Musical. As silly as it sounds in hindsight, it was one of those moments where I felt hope. Hearing Jeanna De Waal perform “If” had all the hallmarks of a musical’s prime cheese. The overly produced segment mixed with this insincere level of optimism was exactly what I needed. It felt like contemporary Andrew Lloyd Webber in that way. It would never be my favorite, but there was something comforting about “If” and believing the potential that theater WOULD come back, and it WOULD have shows like Diana the Musical waiting.
I understand that seems foolish now, the day after its final bow. In that time, several new shows have opened and garnered more acclaim. Even Webber has an infectious new spin on Cinderella. There’s so much that’s replaced that emotional ambiguity. It also doesn’t help that while I have never been to Broadway, I have seen a professionally shot version, released October 1. It was a bold move given that it was still a month from previews opening and here was a filmed version for the general public to consume. It was a bold move that would set the bar in a very interesting grey area.
On the one hand, I understood why it was recorded. The show originally played at The La Jolla Playhouse in 2019 and was scheduled to open on Broadway in March 2020. Knowing the trajectory of theater following COVID-19, it made sense to preserve investments by recording it in the case that everything fell through. What made less sense was doing so following mixed reviews that were so critical that it caused rewrites, adding and removing characters and scenes that completely altered the text. Without playing the new version before an audience, they hired Christopher Ashley to direct it.
Honestly, that would be enough to pique interest for me. The month prior featured Come From Away (20201), a recording of one of my favorite musicals of the 21st century. I loved what he did with the show and desperately wanted to believe that Diana the Musical (2021) could be something greater. To be fair, there was some hesitancy when noticing that Joe DiPietro and David Bryan were the team that made it. I am not a big fan of their Best Musical Tony winner Memphis, though I could appreciate the craft that went into it. Diana the Musical felt less rooted in a necessity and more this thing to gawk at. The best-case scenario was that it would piggyback on a recent Princess Diana phenomenon between The Crown and the Kristen Stewart film Spencer (2021) as well as the Broadway trend of productions like Six recontextualizing history of British royalty. In fact, that sounds exactly like what this was supposed to be.
So let’s back up. Why release Diana the Musical instead of saving it for any later release? After all, Hamilton (2020) and Come From Away are for musicals that have experienced a level of success over YEARS. Even the suggestion from the creators that it was a marketing ploy to get people to see it onstage feels especially strange. Their suggestion was that the film version of Chicago (2002) didn’t stop others from seeing it, disregarding the fact that (again) it had a legacy before the Rob Marshall film, and it was overwhelmingly positive feedback. Just going off the La Jolla reviews, it was ballsy to think they had anything on par with Chicago.
The only caveat that one could add is that the show wouldn’t have the reputation it does now without that Netflix film. It is doubtful that anyone would really discuss it outside of The Great White Way. Now, there’s this morbid fascination and desire to be in the room where it happens. The poor quality of the story may make Tom Hooper’s Cats (2019) look like a Brechtian masterpiece (though who’s to say it isn’t?), but there is something about having that badge of honor. You were there while Diana the Musical was on a stage. It was clear that there was a limited shelf life, and that created a draw. This is a cult musical in the making, so full of profoundly baffling lyrics and narrative choices that one can’t help but take pause and realize how wild the very concept of theater is.
As someone who writes for a living, I am maybe a bit too sympathetic to bad art. I’m not talking about work where their insincerity informs a poorly manufactured product. I’m talking about works that have this genuine spark of creativity that never came to full realization. There is a part of me that is desperately trying to piece together its best self, to recognize the effort. I don’t necessarily laugh at bad art but have this strange empathy, this recognition that making art that has a genuine sense of purpose is difficult, especially in a society where you’re only really validated if you break the bank.
I’m not going to mince words. Diana the Musical is a failure in a lot of respect. The lyrics feature a lot of bad writing. Those who dislike it have warranted criticisms, though I think the levels of hysteria are done more for attention. All art must be the greatest or worst thing ever. For me, the soundtrack is at times mind-numbing, driven by a lack of cohesive emotion that makes every tonal shift bizarre. From a music standpoint, there’s a lot that is left to be desired. Even then, I’m left with this incredible sense of impressiveness that the cast so earnestly believed enough in the vision to bring this to life. To see De Waal sing with this bright-eyed optimism is incredible. It may come across as artificial at times, but it’s definitely a choice.
Which is the thing. How can this be an abysmal work of art when the cast is putting so much effort into making this show come alive? Everyone has a competent level of singing. The backup dancers have this manic energy that rivals Hamilton for sheer sprinting. Everything feels aggressive, diving into the psyche of a celebrity who was The People’s Princess. Considering that Diana the Musical is sold as The People’s Musical, there is a cheekiness that shines through from time to time but isn’t enough rooted in the film to really make it into a masterpiece. This is disjointed, mixing harrowing scandal with utter rebellion. It is why moments like “This Is How Your People Dance” stand out so much. It’s a moment where Diana is supposed to break from the rank and file and it works in theory, even if as a piece of art it’s downright bizarre.
Other impressive aspects of the story include the set design. It looks impressive, mixing so many components that allow the story to stretch into these unreasonable corners of the narrative. This is a story without any villains, meaning the conflict is at times muddled. It’s more of a hangout piece, allowing a look into these people’s lives through a kitschy soundtrack. Add in that there’s a legendary amount of costume changes (De Waal is said to have not worn a single outfit for more than four minutes of stage time) and this show is clearly working towards something more ambitious. Maybe the intentions behind the whole show are downright offensive or insensitive, but as a work of fiction, it’s doing so much that could be fun in better hands. The results as they remain scattershot, a confusing mess.
And yet, I didn’t hate it. I may have found the experience underwhelming, but it was full of interesting decisions. It’s the type of show that I feel destined to revisit at some point in the future and recognize what does and doesn’t work. I’m not someone who is a Princess Diana obsessive. This show as a cultural artifact means little to me. What it means is more a cautionary tale of making a show without a clear vision, where even the release feels so backward that it shot itself in the foot with the other foot. It’s also a reminder of how many shows are out there that never connect to me that people love.
I’m someone who wants to bring as many people to the theater as possible. While I have never been involved in a production, there is something about the stage that makes me feel passionate. As discussed in an excellent Wait in the Wings video, Diana the Musical’s biggest reputation beyond a cult musical is the argument for making art more accessible. I’ve always felt that these shows which (on top of being expensive) are often only available to New Yorkers mean that wider audiences can never fully appreciate theater. They may get a touring production, but they’ll never appreciate the original actors, the professionals deserving of respect. It’s why I felt like Dear Evan Hansen (2021) was a missed opportunity, never giving Ben Platt a chance to have the stage version properly captured, now forever ridiculed for being “that old guy playing a teenager.”
Maybe Diana the Musical would never revolutionize the medium. It would never capture the soundtrack market like Six. However, there is something to be said for how it garnered conversation, allowing moments to become viral sensations. Sure it didn’t translate to the box office success that some would’ve liked, but it makes one imagine what would happen if something like Hadestown or Beetlejuice released a pro-shot maybe five years down the line. How would that preserve their legacy? I’d argue it would make the shows more immortal, the actors able to be respected. It’s a shame that some work is forgotten after so much effort was put into them, so much acclaim slathered on their reputation.
At a time where videos are part of everyday life, it makes sense to try and make art as accessible as possible. Diana the Musical benefited from this approach even if it was negative. Still, to have this production on film allows it to be downright mythic, something that can create fan meet-ups, forming their own version of Rowdy Cats Screenings. I’m sad that this show wasn’t better, but maybe it could never be. As ryan k. on Letterboxd said, Diana the Musical is basically “Evita if every song was ‘Rainbow Tour’.” I love “Rainbow Tour,” but it’s because of the nuance and context that surrounds it. Was Diana the Musical an incredible success? Yes and no, but yes. I don’t know, but I hope it got somebody new to come to the theater and stick around because there are some great shows playing right now. Diana may be gone, but its legacy will live on forever.
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