It would have been a first for a Broadway musical to tell a respectful or even somewhat authentic story about autistic people. In the rare cases where we have seen such characters in commercial productions, they have usually been the subject of pity, ridicule, or fear.
So it's a welcome change that the seven autistic characters in “How to Dance in Ohio” are portrayed without condescension as young adults, just like most others, albeit with unusual gifts and challenges. The fact that they are also played by autistic artists makes the feel-good show that opened Sunday at the Belasco Theater more than a premiere: It's a milestone.
With all this groundbreaking, it's perhaps no surprise that the production is otherwise very conventional, even dispiriting at times. Just as the characters struggle to adapt to the expectations of a neurotypical world, one senses that the musical is doing something similar, drawing on traditional models (like “The Prom”) rather than outlandish models (like “Kimberly Akimbo”), the one… Fit better. And while the result is sometimes heartening, it comes at the expense of the depth and complexity the show could have achieved if it weren't so intent on cheerful persuasion.
Certainly, in its brightness, it bears no resemblance to its source material, a 2015 documentary called “How to Dance in Ohio.” Alexandra Shiva's film is set at Amigo Family Counseling, a real-life mental health center for autistic people in Columbus, and highlights the experiences of several clients as they prepare for a spring festival. Over approximately 16 weeks, they practice specific applications of the life skills that Dr. Emilio Amigo and his collaborators generally taught them whether these skills were social (how to ask for a date), emotional (how to deal with rejection), or physical (how to do the wobble).
The tone of the documentary is matter-of-fact and therefore often dour. Not all stories are happy: we see that some customers have difficulty speaking, let alone dancing. For the others, too, the excitement of the event is offset by fear – both for them and for their parents, whose faces are marked by years of worry. By not making the obstacles seem easily overcome, the film honors everyone's hard work, regardless of success.
Reproducing this approach, however truthful, would be a major downer – and a fool's errand for a commercial show. Instead, the Sammi Cannold-directed musical assumes skill and excellence. The young actors, all making their Broadway debuts, are highly skilled, radiantly sweet, and completely comfortable on stage.
This also makes their characters seem completely comfortable. When best friends Caroline (Amelia Fei) and Jessica (Ashley Wool) go to Macy's with their mothers to buy frilly dresses, you get the feeling that they don't need constant help and security like in the film – just a credit card. And although Tommy, a superhero fan preparing for his driving test, tells us he “has trouble with facial expressions”, the evidence of Conor Tague's performance says otherwise. His expression, like that of any good actor, was visible from the stern of the Belasco.
Lacking the film's fundamental contrast of hopes and abilities, Rebekah Greer Melocik's (book and lyrics) and Jacob Yandura's (music) show focuses on flimsier conflicts. Jessica doesn't like Caroline's (invisible) boyfriend, who is too possessive. Remy (Desmond Luis Edwards) receives some hostile comments on his YouTube cosplay channel. Drew (Liam Pearce) has concerns about attending the prestigious university that accepts him. (He's an expert in engineering.) Mel (Imani Russell) has trouble dealing with criticism after being promoted to head of the reptile department at Paws and Claws.
Only Marideth (Madison Kopec) retains some of the complexity of the real character she is based on, at least as she appears in the film. When upset by social situations that she cannot handle, she may freeze in fear or run from the room, often into the comfort of alternate universes she visits on her computer or the facts of the real one world that she obsessively collects. (“You've got more bones in your feet than the rest of your body combined.”) This sentiment is beautifully reinforced in “Unlikely Animals,” a number that, like many of the show's songs, has a thoughtful and poetic (and so on) quality to it -the-nose) hook. “Australia is a lesson,” she sings, “in what isolation and distance can do.”
Still, How to Dance in Ohio leaves little doubt that Marideth and the others will enjoy the formal event and gain at least a moderate level of independence beyond it. To fill the gap, the authors based the story's crisis on Dr. Amigo (Caesar Samayoa) relocated himself. An insignificant and often secondary character in the film, he commits a series of imperious and bizarre missteps that, in the doldrums of the second act, alienate him from his clients, their parents and, not least, his own daughter Ashley (Cristina Sastre), who in works at the clinic and also makes mistakes when dealing with Mel. We should understand that it is not the autistic characters who need to change, but the neurotypical ones.
Good enough, but this story isn't as distinctive or compelling as the one the film tells, warmly played if clumsily executed in a series of impossible hairpin turns.
Since it's a musical, the balance is supposed to be in the songs, and there's a lot to admire about Yandura's music and Melocik's lyrics. The opening, “Today Is,” in which we meet the clients as they build their lives out of bits of memorized routines, is cleverly set to scale-like phrases reminiscent of piano exercises. It turns out that the expected appearance at Macy's is not for Caroline and Jessica but for their mothers, with the touching refrain “I want to see a picture of my daughter getting ready for the dance.” The phrase ” How to,” which almost everyone sings on their way forward—“how to set clear boundaries,” “how to deal with long-term grief”—consistently suggests that people have more in common than their different types of grief wiring might indicate this.
But because the book pushes the dramatic accelerator too hard, it loses its pace over time and often resorts to advocacy jargon (“Nothing about us without us”) and outright cheering. Even the minimal staging doesn't do much to deliver the momentum she desperately wants as the story heads toward a Broadway ending.
Perhaps it's enough that “How to Dance in Ohio” offers comfort and encouragement in a bland, conventional package. (There are cooling rooms for those who need them, as one of the actors explains when greeting the audience.) To do good, restorative work for every part of humanity is to do sweet, restorative work for all.
How to Dance in Ohio
At the Belasco Theater, Manhattan; howtodanceinohiomusical.com. Running time: 2 hours 25 minutes.