Carousel: A Play from 1945; A Modern Lens

**This post contains spoilers for a musical currently on Broadway. It’s also a musical that was first written in 1945, which means you had 73 years to learn the story. Proceed with whatever caution you believe that requires.**

I own more paisley patterned dress shirts than I own white dress shirts. I own a paisley patterned suit, a seersucker suit, yet no charcoal suits. Subtlety is a foreign concept to me in fashion and in life, so to say I noticed a lack of subtlety in a show is a really, really hot take. Put on some sunscreen because Carousel has as much subtlety as Beyoncé Knowles has flaws. None. Like actively and aggressively none.

Before diving further into my analysis of Carousel I want to say that this is not a take on the 2018 revival in its production. It is a very visually stimulating production, and there are some very, very strong performances. I take nothing away from this production, and I give kudos to the performers and creative team that deserve it. The musical received 11 Tony nominations on Tuesday morning, and many were deserved. I simply want to analyze something that is bothering me, which is the simple fact that Carousel is an absolute theatrical staple that in 2018 feels more dated than the fashion choices underlying most of my aforementioned paisley shirts.

Here is a brief history of Carousel on Broadway:

• 1945: Winner of the Donaldson Award for Best Play of the 1944-1945 season. The Tony Awards didn’t come about until 1947, which is a reminder that this play was written in 1945—remember this as it will become relevant later.
• 1957: Winner of Tony Award for Best Scenic Design. There is no Tony Award for Best Revival at this point. This is also the year my father was born, which means in the eyes of me as a child this also was a year an unfathomably long time in the past.
• 1994: Winner of Tony Award for Best Revival of a Musical. Carousel wins this award in its inaugural year probably because the committee got together to talk about how this piece was so monumentally mind bogglingly Carousel-y and 50 years old that it should be commended.
• 2018: Carousel opens again on Broadway—the current climate in the entertainment industry is people are starting to come to terms with the oh so shocking idea of treating women with respect. You know, like people. Again, this is important.

Spoilers: Carousel is the story of a man and a woman, Billy and Julie, with a substantial yet undefined difference in age who fall in love one night over a song. Fast forward a couple of years yet only one scene and they’re living in abject unhappiness because Billy cannot find a job. But don’t worry he doesn’t beat her—he only hit her once. This is an actual line that is used multiple times. It is supposed to add complex layers to Billy’s character. It doesn’t. Billy is a monster.

The other love interest is a gentleman named Mr. Snow who is supposed to be manipulating Julie’s best friend into their marriage, but he is just a man who has broad career ambitions and a desire to care for a large family. His main song begins with him discussing wanting so many children and his bride-to-be showing a little hesitancy at the thought, but over the course of the fairly short song she comes on board. He will take his small boat and turn it into a fleet. It’s not my dream in life, but I can think of much worse things to do. For example: hitting women.

Billy dies in a botched robbery when he decides he needs huge amounts of money to support his unborn child immediately following a song where he insinuates he would help his son have sex with women, and though “you can have fun with a son . . . you gotta be a father to a girl.” It’s a super regressive song, but it was written in 1945, so I guess we can give it the historical pass. Billy is shot dead and over his still cooling corpse Julie is told how much better off she is. Because Billy was a bum. Because subtlety.

Never fear! Billy is given a chance to redeem himself and go down from the afterlife to meet his daughter. He can show her he was a complex character and that love conquers all. He can show her so much. He shows her nothing of value. Billy hits his daughter’s hand because she won’t accept a gift from an adult man she has never met. Is there more subtlety in the scene than that? Some would say yes. I would say who cares? He is given a chance at redemption and the play has him hit his daughter. Billy is a monster.

But wait—the plot has redemption. The closing number is Billy watching his daughter and widow sing “You’ll Never Walk Alone” at her graduation and he realizes that he did love her, and when the speaker at graduation says to celebrate your parents’ successes but not to be held back by their failures, Billy is like “oh I get it now my daughter should listen to this” and he is totally redeemed for being a derelict woman abuser…I guess.

I think in 1945 Billy’s character might have been this incredibly complex character—suffering from an unfair life that has punished him with so many unfair breaks. He doesn’t mean to lash out on those he holds dear, but what else can a man do when pushed to the brink? His redemptive arc is so beloved because it shows a man who overcomes so much to show that he wasn’t perfect, but he loved his daughter. In 1945, 1957, and sadly 1994, this might have made for a really complicated and sympathetic Billy.

That just doesn’t fly for me anymore. I don’t sympathize with the character. He can’t find a job because he is an overly proud, self-obsessed jackass who beats his wife. He gets a chance to redeem himself following perhaps the only even arguably noble thing he attempts goes horribly awry, and he gets mad at his underage daughter who has never ever met him or known what he looks like responding negatively to a creepy gift given to her by a freaking stranger. You know, like a monster. His redemption at the end doesn’t work for me because I refuse to believe in redemption for someone whose redemptive high moment is a soliloquy that is best summarized as “oh, whoops.” An afterlife whoops moment doesn’t redeem his actions on Earth. It makes the entire arc of the play intensely problematic and frustrating.

Again, this revival was gorgeous. The choreography was phenomenal. The performances were strong. It will likely win some several awards. When they record a cast album, I’ll likely listen to it. The problem with Carousel is that when you really look at it it’s just a dated, super wack play.

I do have to make note that this play did give the world one of my favorite songs “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” It is a song that has taken on an incredibly broad, huge life independent of the play. Liverpool Football Club, one of the most storied soccer clubs in history, uses “you’ll never walk alone” as a team motto, which has a pretty neat history. I am admittedly a huge Liverpool fan, but I think the sight and sound of thousands and thousands of fans singing a beautiful song with passion is something worth repeating time and time again. Carousel is not.