It seems like a howling musical about disaffected citizens rising up could be perfectly adapted for our confounding political times.
Switch on the cable news this election season: “American Idiot” indeed.
But the revival of the Green Day album turned musical of that name, in a spirited version at the Keegan Theater, now only shows how outdated its sentiments seem. Was 2004 that long ago?
Even in its day, Green Day seemed a throwback – a California trio of the 90s who aped punk music of more than a decade earlier and tried so hard at it, lead singer Billy Joe Armstrong even affected a British accent.
The band had its brief heyday and were fading by the time it released “American Idiot” a decade ago. But at the time, its political anger at the George W. Bush era, two years into the Iraq War, seemed the most politically ringing statement to hit No. 1 since the 70s.
But in the staging adapted by the band with director Michael Mayer (of “Spring Awakenings”), it seems stripped of its political content, if, indeed it ever really had very much in the first place.
Instead, it plays like a generic pantomime of unfocused youth rebellion, in which a couple of buddies strike out against the vague, unspecified hypocrisies of the suburbia where they live by splitting for the big city, carrying guitar cases, but never really playing seriously.
Instead, the protagonist Johnny gets mixed up with drugs, finds a girl so ill-defined she’s actually named Whatshername, and eventually gets disillusioned there too. Meantime one buddy has domestic troubles with a pregnant girlfriend, and another is shipped to war, losing a limb. By the end, they all end up going back home having learned, with the audience, next to nothing.
Even rock operas that play well on record only show their dramatic inadequacies when staged, as The Who’s “Tommy” proved. “American Idiot” has the same sort of problems of stereotyped characters and sketchy narrative while only occasionally being saved by the music.
As it happens, the strongest songs that were the biggest hits — the title tune, “Holiday” and “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” — are three of the first four songs on the work.
After that, it’s a very long slog until “21 Guns” and the benedictory “Wake Me Up When September Ends” — which is followed by another five songs before the curtain call rendition of “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life),” which was never part of the album in the first place.
If the Keegan performance, directed by Mark A. Rhea and Susan Marie Rhea, has all the energy of a good college performance, it’s because many of the cast are fresh out of drama departments at Catholic University or the University of Maryland. A fresh faced bunch, with nary a tattoo or piercing among them, they are shown to be punks through their gelled up hair, black jeans and sneers.
Harrison Smith with his spiky hair and heavily mascaraed eyes, bears a striking resemblance to Armstrong and makes an impression as disaffected front man. But Christian Montgomery as his drug dealer has a more piercing voice and arresting presence, if only because he enters from the audience stairs.
Hasani Allen is fine as the reluctant soldier; Josh Sticklin the bandmate who stays home (though I didn’t quite get that until I read up about the “plot” after the performance).
As in a lot of punk music (or pop-punk, which is what Green Day helped inspire), “American Idiot” isn’t great at depicting women. Eben K. Logan has a thankless job as Whatshername, and Molly Janiga stands out for having such a loud voice, she must be blowing out the ears of the stunt baby she cradles.
There’s generally way too many people — nearly 20 — cavorting on the modestly sized Keegan stage. Even when they’re using different levels of Matthew Keenan’s set, it’s still overcrowding.
Choreographer Rachel Leigh Dolan has them mostly moving at all times, in pieces that look at times like shadows of Sharks vs. Jets of musical delinquents ages ago.
Allan Sean Weeks’ lighting design can be effective at times, especially during a brief war scene; but there are basics like spotlights on singers that sometimes don’t get covered.
Patrick Lord’s projections can’t be seen well on the handful of unbroken windows on which they can appear. When they do, they underscore the lack of specific political targeting (and focus) that the album actually had.
For those who cherish the Green Day work, though, there is something to be said for hearing it played live by a stage band led by Jake Null, with guitars, bass and drums but also cello and violin. It is about the quietest rock music you may ever hear played live, though — perhaps necessary so that the ensemble’s voices can be heard.
What struck me most was how one-dimensional putting the songs on stage turned out to be, as if it were one of those old music videos where actors present exactly the action in each lyric as it is sung. Those who want to preserve their sweet dreams of grunge days are advised to dig up their old CD at home and play it loud.
“American Idiot” continues through April 16 at the Keegan Theatre, Washington, D.C.