Review: ‘Wild Child’ at Laguna Playhouse
The Breathe Project’s new musical “Wild Child” — with its book and lyrics by Dan Marshall and music by Julianne Wick Davis — is having its world premiere through Oct. 4 at the Laguna Playhouse, expertly directed by John Simpkins.
While the play’s focus on teen trauma in a positive spirit is commendable, and its likable cast delivers invested, high-energy performances, the writing relies heavily on cliches, belabors points and leaves some plot elements hanging, reducing the overall emotional impact of the story, despite the cast’s stellar efforts.
In the musical, six teens considered “troubled” by their parents are basically kidnapped and sent to a wilderness hiking retreat in Utah for three months—which honestly sounds pretty nice, except if you’re a kid who’d rather be home on your phone or playing video games, despite your parents’ weird judgments of you.
Two of the teens — Rina (Salima Gangani) and Darin (Davide Costa) — actually play the same video game called Wild Child, living vicariously through their delightful avatars Roses (Yana Perrault) and Kiton (Brian Whitehill), who appear in their imaginations on stage.
Rina, the black sheep of her family compared to her sister who got into Stanford, is a wannabe musician, so Roses is a glamorous rock goddess. And the suited-up Kiton is the strong and brave fighter Darin would want to be if he wasn’t so sad and lost after losing his father.
The play invariably perks up when the avatars are around, especially Roses, thanks to Perrault’s shining stage presence. Unfortunately, while Kiton is equally awesome, he’s not given much to do outside of the video game, often left swaying in limbo. One wishes he could engage in a real-world battle with Darin or offer the kind of self-reflective advice Roses gives Rina, but he only steps in briefly toward the end.
The other kids Rina and Darin meet on the trail in Utah are also considered “troubled” in different ways, and it’s apparently because they aren’t seen by their parents for who they are and would rather just send them away.
Phoenix (Gabby Dahlen) is transgender but their parents don’t recognize that; wisecracking Tom (Jacob Zelonky) actually has a drug and alcohol problem but the person who writes to him is his AA sponsor Doug; tough and angry Fitz (Mathew Fedorek, owning his role) is literally not seen by the wealthy parents he yearns for, spending most of his time alone; and Lynds (Amanda Angeles) is so funny and upbeat, it’s hard to know why she’s there.
Camp counselors Whitney (Jennifer Noble, with an amazing voice) and Collins (Chad Doreck) walk the line between friendly supporters and tough rule-enforcers as they guide the kids through Utah’s wilderness trails — its trees and stars beautifully evoked by Nathan Scheuer and Cat Wilson’s lighting and projections on Michael Schweikardt’s wood-columned set with ladders and hidden moving belts that allow inclined walking.
The talented ensemble works extremely well together, especially noticeable in group numbers like the two “Letters” songs and choreography by Trent Soyster that has them hiking in unison or linking arms to rhythmically clap each other’s hands.
The lyrics they sing so well, though, are sometimes drowned out by the music, but also cringingly cliched. For example, “Trail Song #1” has a catchy beat, but lines like “Fake it ‘til you make it / Hike it ‘til you like it” seem a bit sophomoric and condescending.
Other songs similarly suffer from obviousness or didacticism, such as Rina’s teen angst anthem “Game Over” or the final numbers “Stay Wild” and “Meet Me Outside” (during which I couldn’t help but think of the old meme “cash me outside”) or counselor Whitney’s “Three Pages” that is literally about how to write in a journal, or even Collins’ solo “Human Nature,” the gist of which is that it’s human nature to be in nature.
Granted, perhaps the intended audience for this show is younger people whom the producers thought might better relate through simpler lyrics, though I think even my younger self would be a bit bored by them — which seem like they belong in a high school education play — even if I liked the story otherwise.
Some songs are more refreshingly inventive, however, especially the combo “O.M.F.G.” / “Trail Maxxing” that takes idioms and acronyms to a whole new spunky level, or “So Sirius” in which Lynds uses the Dog Star to make a point to her new bestie Phoenix, or even the strong but sweet “Always There” that Rina and Darin sing with their avatars.
Such songs elevate the teen experience rather than patronize it, as in other musicals involving teen trauma like the poignant “The Outsiders,” quirky “Kimberly Akimbo,” or deeply emotional “Dear Evan Hansen.” If the play could be reworked, its lyrics might be revisited to be more inspired..
Plot and structural elements could also be reworked to give the story a clearer arc. Rina and Darin are posited as the two leads, but Rina is given much more room to grow. It’s not clear if Darin heals his own pain with his pivotal decision near the end, or if Fitz is really helped by the advice to conform yet “stay wild.” And how do the two counselors feel about having to remain on the trail with some kids after three months while others leave — do they get overtime?
In the end, “Wild Child” wonderfully showcases a talented cast and crew in an immersive production at the Laguna Playhouse, entertaining for everyone, but perhaps especially appealing to teens who might identify with one or more of the characters and enjoy the contemporary dialogue, situations and sparks of humor and camaraderie.
It would also be hard for teens, or anyone, to not get the overt yet valid message about ditching tech and going outside — seemingly the musical’s raison d'être — since for all of us, living in our own private screen worlds is perhaps the biggest “troubling” issue of our lives today.
“Wild Child” continues through Oct. 4 at the Laguna Playhouse, 606 Laguna Canyon Rd., Laguna Beach, with shows Wednesdays at 7:30 p.m., Thursdays at 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m., Fridays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. and Sundays at 1 p.m. For tickets, call the box office at 949-497-2787 or visit LagunaPlayhouse.com. Run time is two hours, with intermission.
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