Opening Up: A Strange Loop’s “Intermission”

One of the most common expressions around Tony-winner A Strange Loop is that it’s unlike anything that an audience has ever seen on Broadway. The plot description alone provides enough evidence to suggest this as it focuses on a “big, Black, and queer ass American Broadway show.” While there have been several shows with some focus on identity, none have done so as vulnerably and humorously as Michael R. Jackson’s Off Broadway transplant that takes on every last taboo imaginable, and all from the perspective of Usher: a gay Black man writing a musical about a gay Black man writing a musical about a gay Black man. He is also an overweight usher for The Lion King who takes a job writing for Tyler Perry and dealing with his religious upbringing.

Before even diving into the opening song, cleverly titled "Intermission," one can deconstruct A Strange Loop’s exploration of identity as it relates to the greater theater. The Lion King in itself is a musical with a predominantly Black cast that was originally based on a Disney movie that featured fewer names. From the subtext about corporations warping the narrative to Black artists having to reinvent within a lens they didn’t create, Usher exists as someone who needs Disney even if what he truly wants to be is something greater. He was to be free, but will that mean having any success? This is the defeated start for the show’s hero who will reveal himself in every facet to the audience by the conclusion. For now, it’s time to meet Usher, the usher for a musical that doesn’t even depict his race as humans or in a contemporary or original sense. Is this really the dream he wants to thrive towards?

Again, Jackson has put an incredible amount of subtext into the show that even approaching “Intermission” brings with it an immediate brilliance. At only 100 minutes, it joins The Band’s Visit and Come From Away as contemporary musicals told over one act. Even if there’s “Intermission,” there is no intermission for A Strange Loop. If anything, it’s not even about the show. It is the show. Usher’s life has become stagnant, stuck in a state of intermission where he’s waiting for the Broadway finale to come, where everyone gets up and cheers at curtain call. A Strange Loop is billing itself as unconventional and doing it very well.

There’s the opening which borrows a page from another famous opening number: Company’s eponymous number where the supporting players call out the protagonist’s name. Unlike the Stephen Sondheim show, Jackson gives a clever double meaning to the repetitive “Usher!” Before the audience understands the function of the show, they may be quick to hear it not as Usher the protagonist, but usher the job that robs him of identity. Even the harmonies have abrupt rudeness that is a bit offkey. Are they calling him so they can find their seats? It’s a perfect way to break the fourth wall, to have the final people straggling the aisles to sit down and prepare for the wildest 100 minutes of the year. Once it becomes clear that Usher is the character’s name, one can begin to realize there’s a metaphysical layer, where the choir known as “The Thoughts” are voices in his head, criticizing him. The disharmony reflects his lack of focus and will begin to jab at him later in the song. If anything, this is the most economic opening to a Broadway song since The Book of Mormon’s “Hello.” 

Music drops out and The Thoughts disappear. Enter Usher who declares “Can I really write this?” Given that even in the progressive landscape of Broadway most shows are designed to appeal to white audiences, A Strange Loop is a humungous gamble. Who wants to watch a musical about a Black queer artist? It’s as much about Usher’s goal throughout the show as it is Jackson’s, declaring that the quest for authenticity is difficult when commerce stands in the way. It’s not necessarily that what he’s writing is offensive, but whether or not it’s dishonest. A lot weighs on Usher as he gets drowned out by The Thoughts in the first full verse.

Again, Jackson reflects how self-conscious he is of Usher’s plight by having these questions be as much about the people he’s ushering to seats as the play he’s writing and the audience watching him onstage. “How many minutes ‘til the end of intermission?” As an introduction, it’s amusing because some may be thinking that throughout A Strange Loop. Given that there isn’t any, it could also be an inside joke on the show’s structure. It’s also a thought about Usher’s life when he can leave behind the dull 9 to 5 in order to follow his dream of writing something substantial. Given that this section mirrors A Chorus Line’s “I Hope I Get It” as The Thoughts ask “Should there even be a show?” Even if unintentional, it’s also fun to think that the line “No should it start with what he’s thinking/Which is just a cursor blinking” is a nod to fellow contemporary musical juggernaut Dear Evan Hansen, which gained acclaim for how it discussed mental health, albeit from an initially white perspective. 

As the song shifts from the manic keys for The Thoughts, jittery from anticipation, Usher centers himself with a falsetto. This is the third key melody shift so far, and it reflects the inability to focus. Usher’s falsetto in itself hearkens to the later song “Inner White Girl,” which suggests a lot of his Broadway desires were because of a very specific demographic he doesn’t fit into. It seems out of place at first, but this is ultimately where the audience gets their first clear understanding of what A Strange Loop is even about. Whereas enough ambiguity exists beforehand, Usher gives the thesis statement without an ounce of artistic flexing:

He has to show what it's like to live up here

And travel the world in a fat, black, queer body

It sounds authentic when compared to everything rushing around him. The world is passing him by and he’s fading into irrelevance as The Thoughts return go their questioning melody. Declaring “No one cares about a writer/Who is struggling to write!” Here is Usher breaking down the reasons why he is a failure, why he’s stuck ushering at The Lion King. Whereas this could just be another writer’s block trope and finds him needing to find his voice. The Thoughts address the idea that others are suspicious that he is being inauthentic and is trying to be white. 

This approach makes sense. The shows referenced so far (Company, A Chorus Line, Dear Evan Hansen) all owe some credit to white voices having access to theater. While not all of them are straight, there’s enough heteronormative baked into a musical’s expectations because of the belief it will help sell tickets. Black voices haven’t been as successful in getting that right, let alone Black queer artists who have something a tad uncomfortable to say. Usher wanting to be white makes sense in contrast with his next breakthrough where his falsetto declares

He has to fight for his right to live in a world

That chews up and spits out black queers on the daily

It’s a dog eat dog world, and the struggle is abundantly clear. Whereas the previous asides by The Thoughts have had a manic pace, as if rushing to reach a conclusion, things begin to slow down. They are at a jagged pace, finally addressing themes important to Usher. While this song can seem on the nose with how it sets up the thesis, it’s done very entertainingly and reflects how difficult it is to create a central narrative. The melody isn’t grounded and it’s clear that the choir isn’t in line with the protagonist. Everything is at odds, where even when The Thoughts present some truth, it’s almost mocking. The melody feels reminiscent of upper echelon (read: white) musicals that are snooty, educated, and full of these deep methodical texts that Black narratives often get accused of not having.

Blackness, queerness, fighting back to fill this cishet, all-white space

With a portrait of a portrait of a portrait of a black, queer face

And a choir full of black, queer voices, treble clef (and also bass!)

Maybe The Thoughts are mocking Usher. Maybe they’re mocking the audience who have been susceptible to this trend for centuries. Still, the disjointed nature suggests that a classical Black ideology isn’t necessarily authentic to Broadway. There needs to be reinvention and conversation of a new normal. There needs to be a rude butting in and someone needs to reflect on how times have changed. At times A Strange Loop has the aggressive, groundbreaking feel that many placed on Rent 26 years prior. With a playfulness, it’s not only commenting on its protagonist’s subtext, but also how this show will deal with heavy themes without fully dipping into sad, inaccessible tones. It’s going to have something authentic to say even within an industry that feels like it’s set up against them. 

The chorus is yet another shift. The Rent comparisons are most in line here as deep intellectual thought breaks down to the perfect description of A Strange Loop. This is a “big, Black and queer ass American Broadway show.” It’s a celebration, shameless from how earnest it sounds. As everyone joins in, it’s clear that even from all this questioning, this is what the next 100 minutes will be. It’s unafraid to be Black and queer to the point that it uses edgy misnomers like “ass.” It has a rebellious spirit that will immediately define whether the audience is for or against the story. There is no hiding, which is a refreshing change of pace. Queer as a word has rarely been this repetitively used in a mainstream musical, let alone free of any hesitation. That alone makes it stand out, though it’s far from an empty gesture.

Following The Thoughts returning to their initial “How many minutes ‘til the end of intermission?" melody that describes a more general writer’s block, Usher returns to his insecurities. If it wasn’t clear at this point that intermission was a pun, he flat-out notes “Still his fate lies in wait, like a scavenging vulture.” He ends by stating that he wants to do something of value. The way that this section lacks any definition of Usher’s identity tears away the idea that A Strange Loop’s only appeal is being a Black queer artist. This is an attempt to make it more universal, that everyone of any background could relate to his struggle. In fact, outside of the chorus, there’s little to suggest that his quest for authenticity isn’t already relatable. 

As The Thoughts repeat “Usher!” as in the opening, things ramp up again. His voices grow increasingly chaotic and as the motif of questioning returns, The Thoughts declare “You’re a ball of Black confusion/That keeps hitting a plateau.” The song in itself has been one of the most detailed and entertaining journeys through writer’s block. It’s clear Usher has an idea, but will it amount to anything? The song continues as a voice between Usher and The Thoughts, exploring the search for purpose. In the final verse by The Thoughts, they note that Usher needs to “please the Caucasians” and how there’s “a system that’s distorted.” In what is designed as the most shocking moment in the whole song, The Thoughts taper off as the final two lines in a verse about being rejected find “rigor” rhyming with a derogatory expletive meant to reflect the racism that white audiences may have for Usher even if they’re too polite to actually admit it.

The show in itself may be alarming for this reason. Later songs use derogatory terms that could apply to either Blackness or queerness. Even if this one is censored, possibly a sign of repression, later ones are less kind. As the song shifts into the chorus, the song becomes a medley on the home stretch, reflecting the differing melodic ideas of the piece coming to terms with each other. People yell “Usher!” as if expecting answers to all of this. Meanwhile, others are asking “How many minutes ‘til the end of intermission?” There’s pressure now on Usher to reach that moment where he’s successful, capable of being something greater than another failure. How does he prove himself?

An interesting addition to this swirling cacophony is Usher yelling “Oh my God!” Even if it’s just an expression of distress, it’s also reaching the deepest recesses of Usher’s mind. Every insecurity can be tied back to religious trauma, which plays a significant conflict in the latter half of the show. Without diving too much into religion here, “Intermission” manages to fit in everything that has come to define Usher by slowly chipping away at the stereotype and finding something more personal and descriptive as The Thoughts return. 

The conclusion of “Less than two!” could just mean that the intermission within the show is almost over, or that Usher is about to win over the world. All of this is plausible by Jackson’s meticulous writing. However, it could be that in a song that continually undermines Usher’s worth, it can be argued that this is a play on words, and the mathematical equation “less than to” means a different kind of disconnect from other characters in the story. He wants to be brilliant for the audience, but he’s less than them. He’s incapable of producing something of any weight. Everything to follow will be him trying to find himself moving from less than to over into equal to. Traditionally, this line is almost a comical punchline in any other show, but it’s the perfect summary that the protagonist is at odds with.

Like the best opening songs throughout Broadway’s history, A Strange Loop does a lot to help coax the audience into the show’s head space. Through an impressive use of structure and lyrics, Jackson has a gift for making Usher a complicated figure and showing how a Black queer musical is going to be at odds with everyone’s expectations. It’s a song full of interruptions and shifts, at times uncomfortable, but always looking for balance. An opening number is supposed to be an introduction, and this is the most thorough it can be both on a surface level of character but also in how it will deconstruct theater and audience expectations. A Strange Loop is an impressive endeavor and “Intermission” may be in a show without one, but it’s because the show itself is an intermission for Usher. The audience eagerly awaits his victory, and that is what the best of theater usually does. It understands how to introduce this unique premise and does with such shameless aplomb. This is what Broadway should be striving for: rooting for the underdog, making one think about what these stories mean. So much is happening and yet it all feels perfectly understandable.