The intention of Rolling Thunder is a valuable and honorable one: to recognize the bravery and strength of veterans, and all those who fight for their countries in wartime. But the show’s framing and execution is bizarre and jarring: a rock and roll jukebox musical—it calls itself a “rock journey”—centered around the Vietnam War that wants you to bop in your seats as well as feel outraged and mournful. There’s nothing wrong with the split purpose, but Rolling Thunder feels more tribute band than profound tribute.
The disconnect between aim and result isn’t the fault of the performers—Drew Becker, Courtnee Carter, Deon’te Goodman, Cassadee Pope, Justin Matthew Sargent, Daniel Yearwood—who sing the familiar standards very well. But the uncomfortable collision of form and content was sitting in front of me: two people seated swaying happily in their seats to songs that are, in terms of how they are placed in the story, illustrating pain, death, disillusion, and loss. The material makes you want to do the impossible: rock out, then get patriotic, then sit still, think, be furious.
Rolling Thunder, at New World Stages through Sept. 7, is like a SingalongaVietnam. If you love the protest songs, and rock and soul of that time, you will enjoy all the renditions of such well-known numbers as “Born to Be Wild,” “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” “Gimme Shelter,” “Magic Carpet Ride,” “All Along the Watchtower,” “Nowhere to Run,” “Killing Me Softly With His Love,” “War,” and “We Gotta Get Out of This Place.”
The post Maybe the Vietnam War Shouldn’t Be a Rock Musical appeared first on The Daily Beast