Staff Writer Grace Novarr reviews the latest production from the Columbia Musical Theater Society, which was live-streamed on December 4th, 5th, and 6th.
At 8pm on December 4th, my theater-appreciating roommate and I opened up my laptop and followed the link to the livestream of the Columbia Musical Theater Society’s latest production, The Theory of Relativity, a musical that premiered in 2016. The show is a “song cycle”, a collection of separate characters and seemingly unrelated songs that prove to tie together in minor ways by the end of the show.
For example, one of the first numbers is “I’m Allergic To Cats,” where a man (Kevin Chaikelson CC ‘23) laments his serious allergy to cats and the dilemma this poses because his girlfriend Julie loves cats and owns several of them. In a twist at the end of the song, it is revealed that the man he is singing to is Julie’s father, and he is asking for approval to propose to her.
Much later in the show, we see “Julie’s Song”, in which Julie (Rachel Ding BC ’24) sings to her cats, imploring them to accept the fact that their life will change now that she is going to get married. Similarly, a monologue given at the end of the show by a woman talking to her nail technician as she prepares for a date and reflects on her previous endeavors to find love makes a reference to pretty much every other character and song.
The show is held together through the metaphor of “relativity” and consistent science and math references; throughout the show, we are asked to consider “Person A” and “Person B”, who are walking in different directions at different rates and may someday collide. An ensemble number, “Relativity”, is the most heavy-handed example of this recurring metaphor, as the cast choruses, “I am energy/ I am mass/ I am light.” Ultimately, the show attempts to demonstrate the interconnectedness of humanity, especially the commonalities between seemingly different college students: we are all linked by the quest for love and the devastations of loss.
CMTS’ production was ambitious and remarkably well-produced, considering the challenges of putting together a coherent theater production with a large cast when cast members and production team members are in separate locations. A variety of different styles were used to shoot the different scenes, some of which were filmed on or near the Columbia campus and some of which were filmed at the cast members’ homes. The audio quality was impressive; it appeared to be the case that the songs were recorded separately and dubbed onto the video, which, somewhat surprisingly, didn’t create any syncing issues. I appreciated the commitment that each cast member brought to the production; it clearly took a decent amount of work to assemble the final product, which was a smooth and enjoyable viewing experience.
While the songs themselves were often somewhat predictable, the performances were original and creative. Each segment had a different stylistic approach, which at first was disorienting, but by the end I came to appreciate the diversity of the viewing experience; it prevented the show from becoming monotonous.
During “Apples and Oranges”, a quirky metaphoric ode to same-sex love, the two performers (Briony Price TC and Kiki Gonglewski CC ‘23) frolicked around together in what was recognizably Washington Square Park; the performance of “The End of the Line”, performed by (Sarah Warshavsky BC ‘22 and Michaelle DiMaggio-Potter CC ‘21), was framed as a TikTok duet between the two singers, who lamented the dissolution of their former friendship. The latter song was actually somewhat uncomfortable; the narrative of a girl turning on her former best friend after she gains a significant amount of weight and calling her a “desperate, clingy, tragic parasite” was pretty shocking, especially in a modern musical.
The song “Great Expectations” was shot on the Columbia campus, with the students wearing masks and performing the dance segment on College Walk. This location seemed appropriate, given that the song is about a bunch of college students feeling the pressure of their “immigrant parents” and “preordained legacies”. It was amusing to occasionally see presumably unwitting Columbia students strolling nonchalantly by in the background.
The recurring song, “Pi”, performed by Wesley Schmidt CC ‘22, represented the storyline of a mathematically-oriented student attempting to reconcile his numerically-oriented mindset with his desire to find love. “There’s safety in numbers,” he sings. “Chaos and order can never combine.” The satisfying conclusion to his arc is that, in the monologue delivered by Lindsey Belisle BC ‘23 at the end, we learn that he will be going on a date that night.
In the song “Lipstick”, performed by Schmidt and DiMaggio-Potter, the metaphor of “Person A” and “Person B” reoccurs, except this time they are walking towards each other, about to collide. Schmidt’s character anticipates a romantic scenario arising from this collision, but DiMaggio-Potter’s character is not interested, creating a comedic moment when they crash past each other and we see the scene from each character’s perspective separately.
The standout performances (as agreed upon by my theater-appreciating roommate and I) were “Me and Ricky” and “Footprint.” “Me and Ricky,” performed by Egem Yorulmez CC ‘22, was a sultry, jazzy narrative of a high school romance gone wrong. Yorulmez was excellent and convincingly emotional while detailing the deterioration of her affair with Ricky. The song was shot in a music-video style, alternating between closeups of Yorulmez’s face and a shot of her singing in front of a line of back-up dancers, all dressed sultrily in black, creating a vibe that felt Cell Block Tango-esque. The song sounded very different from the others in the musical, in a positive way.
The other standout, “Footprint”, performed by Jackson Davis CC ‘22, detailed one college student’s emotional journey as he adjusts to living away from his family and creating a new identity for himself. Davis performed the song entirely from a couch he was sitting on, with different shirts and different background decor to signify the passage of time; his facial acting and strong vocal performance were enough to convey the relatability and the emotional significance of the song. Belisle’s performance of “Promise Me This” was also gorgeously shot and beautifully sung, but that segment suffered from the over-saccharinity of the song.
One confusing moment in the show came when there was a sudden montage of news footage from the past year, including scenes of BLM protests, the presidential debates, and the wildfires in California. I understood it as a thematic statement about the interconnectedness of the universe, invoking the wider national context of the lives of the college students and returning to the theme of all of us being on a “marble floating through space”, but it was still quite jarring and an abrupt tonal shift from the rest of the production.
By the end of the musical, as all the actors chorused the last song together, I felt that The Theory of Relativity had done its work in making me reflect on the interconnectedness of the universe and the “relativity” of all our lives to each other. While the musical itself was occasionally obvious and clichéd, CMTS’ production did an excellent job of bringing out the highlights and creating virtual spaces in which each individual actor and performance could shine.
Note: There was an error in our original article that attributed the wrong actors to songs and scenes in the show. The actors’ names have since been changed to reflect the correct performances.
Image via CMTS’ program.