Monthly Archives: July 2020

Why Hamilton?

 

There is one positive aspect about the founding of the United States which is beyond reproach.  Cinematic productions of award-winning Broadway musicals about the era are among the best transformations of content from stage to screen.  Such was the case with Peter Hunt’s 1972 production of 1776 and Disney’s presentation of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton.  What do they have in common?  Both films (I know it’s an anachronism) featured the original Broadway casts and neither relied on B-roll clips or CGI to enhance the atmosphere of the stage settings.  Such devotion to capturing the source material in its original format allows one to focus on the “cattle” rather than the “hat.”  NOTE: For non-Texans, this reference comes from the Lone Star State axiom about an individual of no substance, “All hat; no cattle!”

Without the distraction of bizarre camera angles and disco-esque light shows, I fixated on the question, “Why Hamilton?”  Was this the alternative to Peter Hunt’s having already examined the process of drafting the Declaration of Independence in melody and lyrics.  Given the opportunity, would “The Room Where It Happened” have been about the chamber in Independence Hall when Jefferson trades abolition of slavery for South Carolina and Georgia’s ratification of the the document rather than a dinner where Jefferson and Madison swap the location of the future seat of government for Hamilton’s national bank.

The obvious answer?  Alexander Hamilton and Miranda share the same Puerto Rican roots.  What better personal choice for a metaphor about the on-going desire for freedom and respect.  Yet, Edward de Bono, the father of “lateral thinking,” implores us never to stop at the first adequate right answer.  Keep searching.  For me, that next right answer emerged when Jonathan Groff enters as King George III.  You immediately notice Groff, who is whiter than white (hopefully with the aid of make-up), is the exception to the rule.  He is the only Anglo character in the story played by a Caucasian.  And quite the dandy.  Ashley Wilkes and Rhett Butler rolled into a single persona.

It is not just his looks, but his words, especially the chorus to his first solo number “You’ll Be Back,” which expose his character.

You’ll be back
Soon you’ll see
You’ll remember you belong to me
You’ll be back
Time will tell
You’ll remember that I served you well

You are better off a colonist than responsible for your own care and feeding.  The theme re-emerges during King George’s second appearance following the surrender at Yorktown in the song, “What Comes Next.”  The monarch further demonstrates his disdain and lack of respect for his “beloved” subjects.

What comes next?
You’ve been freed
Do you know how hard it is to lead?
You’re on your own

Sound familiar?  The exact words every plantation owner told his slaves at the end of the Civil War.  Right answer #2.  Hamilton is not about the American Revolution.  It is not about the colonists seeking independence from The Crown.  It is the realization that emancipation from the lingering attitude toward former slaves was harder than abolishing the institution of involuntary servitude.

But again, why Hamilton?  Could the narrative not been equally effective if the musical had been about Pedro Albizu Campos, a Puerto Rican attorney and politician who championed the territory’s independence movement in 1950.  Or Harriet, The Musical.  Ironically, right answer #3 is handed to us in Act 1, Scene 1, when Aaron Burr (Leslie Odom, Jr.) cannot understand his rival’s success.

How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a
Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten
Spot in the Caribbean by Providence, impoverished, in squalor
Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

If you thought Hamilton  was a metaphor for emancipation, substitute the words “absentee father” for “Scotsman” or “project in Chicago” for “spot in the Caribbean.”  Or consider the following excerpts from Miranda’s first solo, “My Shot.”

Hey yo, I’m just like my country
I’m young, scrappy, and hungry

The problem is I got a lot of brains, but no polish
I gotta holler just to be heard

I’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal
Tryin’ to reach my goal

These are not the words of a colonist or a slave.  They are the words of too many disadvantaged Americans of color and Dreamers who have much to offer if only given the chance.

But still, why Hamilton?  Why not Martin Luther King or Medgar Evers?  Which brings me to right answer #4.  Hamilton is as much about unfulfilled potential and legacy as it is about the title character’s life.  And what better examples of the unfairness in the world than the cruel reality when King is assassinated at age 39 and  Evers at age 40 is gunned down while those responsible for their deaths live to be 70 (James Earl Ray) and 80 (Byron De La Beckwith).  Is it a coincidence that Burr also lived to be 80 while Hamilton died at 47 or 49, depending on the conflicting records of his birth?  Miranda captures this message in the lyrics of the closing number, “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story,” in which Hamilton’s sister-in-law Angelica Schuyler sings:

Every other founding father story gets told
Every other founding father gets to grow old

The same question could be asked about George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, or Admaud Arbery.  In their own way, each found themselves in the middle of a modern day movement, one more attempt to reach the vision of a more perfect union where all are “created equal with inalienable rights.”  And each protester who takes a knee or marches in support of Black Lives Matter is echoing the lyrics, “I gotta holler just to be heard.”

Hamilton is not about the past.  It is a metaphor of the moment.  Why Hamilton?  Because it is a story for all time, all places and all people.

For what it’s worth.
Dr. ESP

 

Alexander Hamilton, Meet Sherlock Holmes

 

As any regular reader of this blog should have realized by now, I take great pleasure in demonstrating what I believe is the most powerful tool when it comes to creative thinking–the ability to make connections where none seem to exist. It begins with an observation about which one then asks, “What is this trying to tell me?  How might it be relevant to something I’m working on?”

How to Watch Hamilton: An American Musical on Disney+ | TV GuideThis morning, my first observation was, “I’m really looking forward to tonight.  I’ve been anticipating the Disney+ channel’s release of its cinematic version of Hamilton for weeks, and today is the day.”  Yet, there is more to it than that.  This is the Lin-Manuel Miranda era.  Talk about a media superstar whose influence transcends his own arena.  It is no coincidence John Bolton called his recent book The Room Where It Happened. an obvious rip-off of one of the most memorable songs from Miranda’s Broadway tour de force.

But the still small voice of imagination which occupies a corner of my brain told me to keep pushing.  What am I missing?  The answer is always there if you connect the dots.  Was the next data point a one-liner from a Steven Wright comedy album I listened to last night? “I was once walking through the forest alone.  A tree fell right in front of me, and i didn’t hear a thing.”

Interesting, but that voice kept nagging me, “Keep pushing.  There are still more dots.”  This morning I was awakened by the dog which resides at the house that backs up to our lot.  There lay the key.  It is not always what you see or hear.  You have to consider what you did not observe or a sound that was absent.  SPOILER ALERT.  This is the very essence of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s classic Sherlock Holmes mystery, The Hound of the Baskervilles.  Holmes is recruited by Dr. James Mortimer to investigate the death of his former patient Sir Charles Baskerville whose demise is initially determined to be the result of a fatal coronary.

Mortimer suspects Sir Charles’ heart attack was triggered when he may have encountered a mysterious black hound which reportedly wandered the manor grounds and had been responsible for the earlier death of Hugo Baskerville. Holmes becomes frustrated with the lack of clues and tangible evidence. Until he questions the owner of the adjacent estate Jack Stapleton.  Holmes notices the Stapletons’ pet Mastiff barks at anyone who approaches the house with the exception of its owner Jack.  Holmes surmises the Stapleton’s hound was the animal in question, since no one in the vicinity of the murder site saw or heard anything the night of the murder.

Which brings me back to John Bolton, especially in light of his latest disclosure he had, in fact, briefed Donald Trump on the Russian bounty program through which the Kremlin allegedly paid Taliban insurgents for killing coalition soldiers in Afghanistan.  Based on this latest revelation, I wondered if the more appropriate title for Bolton’s 600 page tome should have been The Room Where It Didn’t Happen.  Re-enter Steven Wright who, impersonating Bolton, might have described the March 2019 episode in the Oval Office as follows.  “I was once talking to Trump, with no one else in the room. Right in front of me, he ignored my warning about a Russian threat to American Soldiers, and I didn’t do a thing.”

We have a pretty good idea what historians will have to say about Donald Trump in the context of 244 years of American presidential history.  Already, John Meacham, Doris Kearns Goodwin and Douglas Brinkley have not suppressed their disdain for Trump’s violation of presidential norms and disrespect for the office he holds. What we also need to know is how many senior advisors, besides Bolton, listened to Trump’s conspiracy theories and proposed violations of his oath of office, and never challenged him or threatened to go public.  In Miranda’s next political musical Trump, the Oval Office becomes “The Room Where it Didn’t Happen.”  This important retelling of the past four years may be the legacy of those who surrounded him, the “Hounds of Trumpville,” who barked at everyone except their master.

For what it’s worth.
Dr. ESP