Musical(ish) Mondays: A Clockwork Orange

A Clockwork Orange is beloved both as a book and as a film. The story tells the importance of freewill and determination and is remembered for the absurd slang, violence, and perhaps the single most jarring juxtaposition of music and activity ever when the lead and his friends attack a husband and wife and sing Gene Kelly’s Singin’ in the Rain. It’s brutal. It’s iconic.

Towards the end of last year when I heard a stage production of A Clockwork Orange was coming to do an off Broadway run in New York after an incredibly well-reviewed run in London I was both intrigued but also a little hesitant. How would such an insanely emotional, hard-to-watch piece of media translate to the stage?

I can unquestionably say I could not have anticipated the decisions that would be made in the play. The first decision was the simple casting decision to only hire people who have never had a carbohydrate in their life, have never heard of bread, and have never even heard of people who might have tried dairy, which is ironic considering milk is the drink of choice for several characters. Led by Jonno Davies, the all-male cast kept a simple ratio of 12 abs to 1 person. The violence and brutality of the play is replaced entirely with elegant, homoerotic choreography. It takes even the most shocking elements and turns them into a sensual dance between two men. There is absolutely nothing wrong with men dancing, of course, but as an artistic choice, it just becomes a smorgasbord of abdominal muscles glistening to various modern rock songs. And no, this wasn't a musical. But the soundtrack throughout was loud, aggressive, and maybe my favorite part of the performance.

The thing about the book is that the slang the leads speak in make it incredibly difficult to understand for at least a chapter or two. The movie is the same, but it is given the added benefit of showing different scenes and vast sets. The setting in the black box theater with limited scenery doesn’t provide for an easy intro for those unfamiliar with the piece. And that might be the biggest downside with the whole play—it is phenomenally confusing and the artistic choices are so strong that they overshadow the actual story.

This is why I won’t bother going through the plot. If you know it, then you’d be fine with the play. I’ve read the book and seen the movie—I was on board. If you didn’t know the plot, you’d sound like my girlfriend who went in unfamiliar. About 30 minutes into the performance she turned to me and said quietly, matter-of-factly, and simply: “what the f*** is happening?” Valid question.

So should you be upset you missed the show? Well, if you want to see a large collection of glistening shirtless men in tight quarters oozing homoeroticism, then there are countless websites you can do just that. There are also more interesting dance performances that do the same. If you want to see the story of A Clockwork Orange, then there is a film and a book that better tells a pretty complicated story. If you think this sounds like the most necessary artistic combination, then to be honest you probably already saw the show anyways.