Arts Editor Avery Baumel, Deputy Arts Editor Paula Carrión, and Deputy Editor Luken Sloan review this year’s Varsity Show.
Attempting to write a musical that satirizes Columbia life in an emotionally charged moment like the present one is inherently a challenging task: what one person finds funny another might find too lighthearted or too critical. This year’s Varsity Show, directed by Kamila Boga (GS ‘26), with a book by Morgan Johns (GS ‘26) and Ella Wickham (CC ‘25) and lyrics by Anna Steel (CC ‘27) and music by Daniella Sapone (BC ‘25), tried to toe that line. It poked fun at Columbia’s traditions, didn’t hold back from serious critiques, and, at least in intention, reminded us to remember the wonderful parts about Columbia, too. Despite some low microphone levels (though better than previous performances in Roone), a very disorganized entry system, and multiple late starts, attending the 131st Varsity Show was an enjoyable experience.
The musical began with a hilarious Grace Colucci (BC ‘27), playing Katrina Armstrong as an email-reading robot. She smiled perfectly on cue, recited the platitudes that have become so familiar (“Community!” she repeated, probably a dozen times), and, in a later appearance, even broke out into tap dancing. Morningside Heist’s opening problem was also all too familiar: the loss of $440 million of Columbia’s federal funding. Research loses funding in this fictional Columbia, too, but, more importantly for Noor (Kiana Mottahedan (CC ’26)), our protagonist, the trustees decide to cut Yearbook. When she spies on a Board of Trustees meeting, she finds out that they intend to wipe the world’s memories with a ray to repair Columbia’s reputation. Together with Russian-turned-US-spy-posing-as-student Anya (Sarafina Belafonte (CC ’26)), she decides to steal the ray.
Noor, the self-proclaimed mastermind, and Anya, as second-in-command, recruit a team full of condensed stereotypes. John Luke (who insists it be pronounced Jean-Luc) is the team’s “distraction.” Played in a stand-out performance by Luca Tuana i Guitart (CC ’27), John Luke is pretentious, obsessed with film, and a flirt. Perhaps the greatest audience reaction came in the form of a gasp when Jean-Luc entered the stage in a dress reminiscent of “Noel’s Lament” in Ride the Cyclone. Clio (Lilly Gasterland-Gustafsson (BC ’25)) is a Barnard computer science major and the team’s hacker. Montgomery Greenwad (Drew Kelly (CC ’26)) is a trustee’s son, a white man who wears a Barnard sweatshirt, majoring in African-American studies, and constantly proclaiming himself to be “an ally.” Tara Smith (Anoushka Sharma (BC ’27)), a thinly-veiled Nara Smith, is the group’s “con artist,” since she is great at adapting and making things “hashtag from scratch.” The wide range of characters functioned mostly as a set up for punchlines. Only a few of these characters, had well-developed backstories and clear incentives–those that did, though, especially Anya and Jean-Luc, were hilarious and captivating.
The first act follows the group’s first attempt to steal the ray, which is ultimately unsuccessful. The trustees, led by co-chairs Monet Baggs (Njoki Tiagha (CC ’27)) and Richard “Dick” Greenwad (Owen Kalmbach (CC ’28)) are appropriately eye-roll-worthy, with Monet rhapsodizing about the Core while Greenwad focuses on partying. A brainstorming session on how the Trustees could fix Columbia’s reputation is made complete with comedic gigantic pencils (props by Emerson Antunes Black (BC ’28)) and wonderfully staccato choreography (by Sarah Kaplan (BC ’27)). At the same time, Anya, the Russian spy, is reporting to a mysterious figure (Wren Pfetcher (BC ’27)) referred to only as “The Executive.” The Executive’s goal is to uncover and remove “DEI wokism” at Columbia. Meanwhile, Monet has a secret agenda to accumulate power and become the metaphorical “Queen of King’s College.” This series of scenes effectively depicted the complicated power dynamics of Columbia, as the trustees, external executive interests, and the students grapple for control over the school (and the plot).
While all of this unfolds, Romona (Luna Boissiere Armstrong (BC ’26)) and Julio (Lucas Lugones (SEAS ’25), a Wallach security guard and a Hartley Hospitality Desk worker, respectively, are part of a star-crossed lovers side-plot. It’s a (probably necessary) reminder that security guards and other Columbia employees have lives outside of their jobs and of what students can perceive. But because of its nearly nonexistent connection to the plot, or any significant character development throughout the show (they’re in love from their first conversation and their only obstacle is getting to each other, which proves to be more difficult than working next-door deserves), the storyline didn’t have much weight, even though it had a lot of potential.
In general, the plot felt rushed and could have benefited from editing for cohesion. The show was ambitious, but it struggled to fully develop all of its lofty goals. The writing and composition, however, was excellent, with catchy lyrics, well-composed music, and well-timed jokes. The issue was structural: even the best writing would suffer in trying to balance these many subplots and themes (Monet’s backstory, Ramona and Julio, Katrina’s interludes, heist scenes, character development for each heist team member, the Executive and Anya’s side-conversations…).
Still, the show incorporated critiques of Columbia, and of the world, that often felt thoughtful and engaging. For instance, when The Executive warns Anya, “You know how we deal with treason here,” she responds, “I get elected to public office?” Later, the students, called disrespectful by the trustees, snap back: “Give us something to respect, and we’ll get right on it.” When one of the trustees tells the students that they “don’t know how a school gets run,” and they reply “neither do you,” you could hear murmuring in the audience. Especially effective was Noor’s remark at the end of the show that $440 million is a “small price to pay for integrity.” Overall, such moments were well-written, letting the satirical tone of the musical slip into serious commentary, even if just for a line.
The second act, though it did wrap up every thread’s arc, was somewhat unsatisfying. The team is trapped in the Wallach-Hartley laundry room as a temporary jail, but with the help of a morale-boosting song (“We’ve Been Here Before”) by Professor Mudd (Grace Colucci (BC ’27))—who just happens to have been imprisoned there, too—they manage to escape. Their second attempt to steal the ray is visually interesting, with the help of the show’s movement ensemble (JiaLi Deck (BC ‘28), Carolina Javier (BC ‘27), Gibson Hochhauser (CC ‘27), producer Olivia Kuan-Romano (BC ‘26), Luke Garbacz (CC ‘27), Abby Svelan (BC ‘26), and assistant choreographer Elle del Valle (BC ‘28)). It has no real stakes, though, although there’s a lot of dramatic music and sneaking steps. Every obstacle that the team encounters is easily surmountable. Ramona and Julio find each other, the team steals the ray, and they outwit both the Executive and Monet to take control. The show doesn’t concern itself with logistical questions, which mostly works, but leaves some holes: how they were so easily able to find the memory ray, and why there were no guards, for instance.
Then the show finds itself facing a crucial problem: The only possible ending, from this point, is to propose a reimagined Columbia. The students are in control. What should they do? In this world, they add a student (Noor) and Professor Mudd to the Board of Trustees. Noor sends an email to the students asking for their feedback, and the heist team members make their individual requests to her; she reads out and grants all their demands. At the end, the students joke that to make up the lost funding, they’ll stage another heist. The rapid tonal shifts are hard to read. It’s these final moments where the line between satire and critical commentary blurs. Should the audience laugh at the demands because they seem impossible to achieve at real-life Columbia? Should they cheer? Is this the solution? It’s not quite clear what the show wants the audience to feel.
It’s hard to imagine any ending that would be satisfying under these premises, because Columbia is in a moment where the future—even in this fictionalized world–feels so uncertain and unimaginable. In attempting to provide a solution, the Varsity Show perhaps took on too high of a task. Still, it’s notable that they tried to do so and that their instinct in this moment was one that celebrates the power of students. It is that, in the end, that provides some hope.
Photo via Authors