The Book of Mormon

The Book of Mormon – Cadillac Palace – April 5, 2023

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I try to imagine what an edited-for-TV version of The Book of Mormon might look like. I can’t. There’d be nothing left except commercials.

This is the third time I’ve seen the musical, but the first since some shut-down-for-Covid revisions were made by the authors to, according to the New York Theater Guide, “center and deepen the Uganda characters . . . clarify satirical points; and remove ‘white savoirist’ depictions of the Mormon missionaries.”

If you loved it before and haven’t seen it for a while, don’t worry, the actors work it and the dancing’s great, and either you’ll like the changes or you won’t notice them, as you’ll be too busy laughing and shaking your head in disbelief once again at the dialogue and lyrics, none of which I choose to repeat in this space. Let’s just say, somewhere, George Carlin is smiling.

I think it’s more a statement about mainstream acceptance than softening that I didn’t see anyone walk out of the theater this time, not even during Hasa Diga Eebowai, a made up phrase (which is apropos given that one of the other songs is Making Things Up Again) that accidentally translates, in a combination of Portuguese and Japanese, I am told, as the nonsensical “just tell picture ebony”, but, trust me, means something totally different in the show.

The Book of Mormon – Oriental Theater – November 24, 2018

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There’ve been almost 300 tv episodes of Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s South Park, and I’ve never seen even one of them, though I understand that some kid named Kenny has had a rough go of it (having died 98 times in the series, 12 in the shorts, 14 in the video games, and twice in the movie).

But now I’ve seen Parker and Stone’s (and the great Robert Lopez’s – Avenue Q, Frozen) The Book of Mormon twice, and, not being a student of religion, everything I know about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I’ve learned from seeing the play. I’m assuming, of course, that everything in the show is accurate.

Interestingly, in terms of religion-related musicals, I’ve never seen Fiddler on the Roof or Jesus Christ Superstar, though I have seen Damn Yankees.

I got lucky with a main floor discounted ticket and even luckier that no one sat next to me on one side in an otherwise full theater. This did, however, lead to a moment of awkwardness when the woman two seats over, who had put her coat on the seat between us, reached over in the dark to try to get something out of her coat pocket, but instead wound up tickling my shoulder, which reminded me of a joke about a woman and a chicken sandwich in her purse on an overnight bus ride.

The stage also went dark when they blacked it out a couple times during the Turn It Off tap dance. I guess tapping in the dark isn’t that hard for a professional, though I know how hard it is for me to stand on one leg with my eyes closed, which, fortunately, I’m not called upon to do all that often, and never on stage.

And, despite the darkness of the humor, Jacob Ben-Shmuel could be seen stealing scenes as Elder Cunningham, while Kayla Pecchioni lit up the stage as Nabulungi.