“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"
Jack Kerouac from his autobiographical novel On The Road
Not enough has been written about platonic girl love, especially for adults. But the reality is that platonic girl love—its power and gravity and the way it can encompass a person like a cocoon—has saved many a young woman’s life, both figuratively and literally. The musical The Mad Ones by Bree Loudermilk and Kait Kerrigan (2017), on the Trustus stage through March 18, gives this beautiful and complicated phenomenon the reverence it is due.
With a tiny cast of four Trustus stage virgins, including two current USC students, Lily Smith and Charlie Grant, The Mad Ones is the story of Samantha and Kelly, played by Smith and Elise Heffner, BFFs who are separated by an accidental death. Samantha must rely on her memories of the all-important platonic girl love relationship she had with Kelly to get her through her grief and on the road to adulthood and making the next life decisions.
The working metaphor throughout the musical is that Samantha is obsessed with Jack Kerouac’s autobiographical novel, On the Road, but despite her intelligence (Sam is valedictorian of their senior class), she repeatedly fails her driving test keeping her, in essence, off the road. The brilliance of this simple metaphor plays out beautifully in the construction of the play.
Lead characters Smith and Heffner are just so much, too.
Adorable, approachable, relatable, insightful, lovable young women, Smith is a cross between Mayim Bialik and Tina Fey and Heffner is that combination of cute and fun that leaves no wonder Smith’s character Samantha adores her so. Smith plays Sam as vulnerable, but capable of getting through this period of grief with the help of the three people who she knows has her back no matter what: her boyfriend Adam, played by Grant, her mom Beverly, played by Jessica Roth, and the memories of her dead friend, Kelly. And in no way is the character of Beverly to be overlooked. Her character is refreshingly written as a bright, caring, and self-fulfilled mother who wants nothing less for her own daughter. While many writers would have fallen into the old tarpit of depicting her as a pushy parent, Loudermilk and Kerrigan seem to recognize what is at stake here and present Beverly as assertive, yes, but justifiably so. Beverly behaves in ways that every mother should aspire to.
To say the cast has vocal chops is an understatement. From Grant’s smooth dulcet crooning to Roth’s rich and powerful voice, the four vocalists take on the score bravely leaving nothing on the stage. The slight pitchiness and rare missed note were so real and genuinely offered that they almost felt scripted, as in, everyone misses a note now and then so of course these authentically imperfect characters will, as well. These young actors, as well as Roth, DO NOT HOLD BACK.
Clearly this kind of bravery in such young actors had to originate in the experienced pedigrees of their directors, Robin Gottlieb and Katie Leitner. In her playbill note, Heffner gives special thanks to Leitner as “the best teacher she ever had.” No doubt. Leitner is also the powerhouse musician and vocalist in the popular local band, Say Femme and between the two women, they have performed enough lead roles to intimidate these four initiates into paralysis. But it is evident how the directors empowered their cast with courage and the message of the script.
There were no weak links in this production. Kudos to Ginny Ives (stage manager), Ezra Pound (sound), Lorna Young (lighting), Liza Hunter (assistant stage manager), and Jim Hunter (scenic designer) for pulling off all the pieces of the behind-the-scenes puzzle that allow for a successful production. Also outstanding was music director Chris Cockrell and his band, and special thanks to the strings player whose melancholy tones were enough to elicit tears alone.
Yes, expect to respond to The Mad Ones with anything from misty eyes to ugly sobbing. But the tears you’ll shed are of the redeeming variety—the kind that wash away the pain and remind us that we grow from every obstacle we overcome.
Go see this beautiful musical and celebrate the talents of these young actors and the futures they have in store.