Reviews of The Book of Mormon on Broadway. Broadway hasn't seen anything like it since Mel Brooks came to town with "The Producers," only "Mormon" has better songs. It's a show where you catch yourself laughing one minute, mouth agape the next, eventually wiping away tears, and, finally, cheering. Stone and Parker are famous for their take-no-prisoners, nothing-is-sacred approach to humor. And Lopez knows about thumbing his nose at contemporary conventions. They all share credit for the book, music and lyrics. Silly, soulful and no surprise with these guys seriously rude, the score is consistently chipper and clever and keeps the pages in this "Book" turning smoothly. Applause, too, for set designer Scott Pask's gloomy rendering of an African village.
Site Information Navigation
An old friend of mine turned Mormon on me a few years ago to the extent that I no longer know who this woman is. I felt like I was watching a perfectly intelligent person be kidnapped by people who believe that God lives on a planet called Kolob, an angel called Moroni delivered golden tablets to Joseph Smith in upstate New York that are the secret basis for this religion, and oh yeah — there is the hair shirt thing. So it was with some trepidation that I saw this show. Even though everyone has been raving about it, I was still cautious. The good news is that this production bowls you over.
You are here
Parker, usually the engine of ideas, felt stalled, and the musical just seemed to be drifting toward an Off Broadway run set for that summer, all three men said recently. Rudin, a man known for putting excellence before niceties, decided that Off Broadway was a mistake. Rudin, who has won seven Tonys for producing plays and musicals. And this was the moment. Doubling down, Mr. Rudin and his producing partner, Anne Garefino, also urged Mr.
Their plight inspires the natives to burst into a joyous song, led by a Ugandan man who brightly introduces the missionaries to a population beset by famine, poverty and epidemic levels of AIDS, and who teaches them an African-sounding phrase that helps the locals forget their devastating troubles. After crooning this phrase skyward for a few verses, the Ugandan man reveals to the missionaries that in English it translates to an obscene three-word oath. The third word, he says, is God. This is the scene that Mr. Parker and Mr. It is a song that can be seen as the ultimate expression of frustration by a group of people who believe God has turned his back on them. Or it might be an outburst of juvenile glee from three scatological satirists allowed to make Broadway actors say the naughtiest words they can think of.