Letters to Daddy, Jr. 

Music & Lyrics by Mark Shepard

Book by Jill Jaysen

Directed by Jill Jaysen

Manhattan Movement & Arts Center

248 West 60th Street

New York Musical Theater Festival

 

Review by Ethan Kanfer

 

Group Shot: The young cast of Letters to Daddy, Jr., part of this year's NYMF (photo: Missy Ettinger).

 

The concept of an all-kid musical, of course, has been tried before. But the genre is ripe for an update, and Letters To Daddy, Jr. offers a straightforwardness and sincerity rarely seen in today’s musical theater. Creators Mark Shepard and Jill Jaysen have owe a lot to the example set by You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown, but in some ways their take on preteen angst is more believable.

 

In the refreshingly realistic world of Letters, life weighs heavily on the small shoulders of a group of ordinary elementary schoolers. The opening song “Awful Day” insightfully lists a series of everyday anxieties, from worrying about grades to not knowing how to treat the new kid. Feeling especially persecuted is Caroline Turner, played by Zoe Ettinger Hochberg. Her father, an English teacher at her school, has grounded her merely for fighting back against Billy the Bully, played by Joe Blaikie. Cut off from TV, Internet, and other distractions, Caroline is bored and sullen. But soon her self-pity gives way to excitement to the delicious discovery of a treasure trove of secrets. It turns out that Mr. Turner has given his students — Caroline’s peers — a challenging assignment. Each must write a short essay on something he or she feels is unfair. The compositions are meant to be kept confidential, but Caroline finds the folder in her dad’s desk. As she reads, she learns that other kids’ problems are not so different from hers.

 

Through this ingenious narrative device the audience, too, is able to get a glimpse inside the souls of the kids. Most of the conflict has to do with trickle-down nastiness. Parents struggle with divorce and job loss, take their frustration out on their children, and the kids inevitably bring the resulting tension with them into school. Even so, Shepard and Jaysen are careful not to depict their protagonists as victims. The kids themselves can be petty, cliquey, even cruel: That is, until Caroline’s newfound maturity infects the gang with a willingness to work out their differences and embrace their better selves.

 

All this positivism, of course, stretches credulity (in real life kids with emotional issues often get worse before they get better). But the dedicated young cast is so engaging, and Shepard’s upbeat score so heartfelt, that it’s impossible not to suspend disbelief and go along for the ride. It helps that the show brings things back to earth by ending with a slightly altered reprise of the opening number (now called “Awesome Day”). What’s changed is the chorus, not the verses. Life still holds many challenges, but with a change in perspective it no longer seems so overwhelming. If Shakespeare were a classmate of Caroline’s, he might encapsulate the experience by saying, “Nothing awesome nor awful, but thinking that makes it so.” It’s a welcome reminder for people of all ages, especially when delivered in so likable a package.