Jagged Little Pill

Jagged Little Pill is crammed with placards of social issues and overflows with enough angst to match Alanis Morissette’s thrilling 1996 debut album of the same name.

Diablo Cody has woven an artful narrative of troubled characters who give voice to Morrissette’s songs. The musical has long been a hit in the US and this is its return season to Sydney.

For angst, just take the Healy family in Connecticut.  Mary Jane Healy (Natalie Bassingthwaighte) is a control freak Mum addicted to opiates, while husband Steve (Tim Draxl) is addicted to work and porn. Son Nick (Liam Head) is part of a sexual assault scandal and craves freedom from having to go to Harvard, and daughter Frankie (Emily Nkomo), adopted, black and lesbian, has a few things on her plate.

These edgy issues are an engaging, realistic delight, so unlike the saccharine cliches of most musicals.  The literal placard-waving is a touch heavy-handed and even with this story it seems to be a musical inevitability to have an ending resolved and happy.

But director Diane Paulus and her team of American creatives have created a compelling voyage to get there, a production brilliantly delivered by an Australian cast, with a kinetic, talented young ensemble looking suitably grungy.

Also driving the story is the rape at a party of Bella (Grace Miell), and Frankie’s developing affair with a boy, Phoenix (AYDAN), after she drops her girlfriend. Jo (Maggie McKenna) gets to scream back at Frankie with the classic Morrissette anthem, You Oughta Know. The audience loved it, and by the end Jo too is happy with a new girlfriend.

Riccardo Hernandez’ set of sliding panels and projections effectively creates new worlds and atmospherics at a pace, with a powerful rock band elevated at the back.

Their central elevation is appropriate for the energy, anger and raw emotion of Morissette. It’s a musical force that crashes in, and sometimes creeps in, at what seem the right moments in Cody’s story.  But you can’t be sure. It’s thrilling to experience, but once the shouting matches the band, all Morissette’s lyrics are lost.  

And that’s a pity because the lyrics don’t add more to Cody’s often insightful, witty scenes and her promising characters made flesh by this fine cast.  Bassingthwaighte is outstanding as the perfect suburban Mum haunted by a past and rock singing with such range and power. She and Draxl set the benchmark of truth and engagement which runs throughout this millennial cast.

Martin Portus

Photographer: Daniel Boud