Assassins is a perfect example of musical theater being used to tell a very dark, serious story. It follows the lives of nine people with only one thing in common: Each of them at least attempted to kill a president of the United States. Each one had different motivations for such an action, and the attempts were against many different presidents. The play focuses on the act of removing the single most visible person in the country and the consequences that arise from such an action.
The play opens and closes with easily the two most famous and powerful assassinations in American history: the slayings of Abraham Lincoln by John Wilkes Booth and John F. Kennedy by Lee Harvey Oswald. Let me clarify that the playwright makes up what seems like a good story for each character, and each story is only loosely based in fact. Therefore, my descriptions of the events reflect the play—not history.
Of all the characters, Booth, played by David Melecio-Vázquez ’11, is best portrayed as the quintessential assassin. He fought President Lincoln because he hated the man and everything he stood for, but he killed him to make a statement. After Booth is tracked down and killed, he continues to reappear throughout the play, influencing each of the other assassins. Every other assassin chooses their target because they understand through Booth’s example what an impact they can have. It makes sense from a theatrical standpoint that he should speak to each of them personally. By the time Oswald—played by Taylor Faulstich ’09—takes the stage, the entire cast of assassins is behind him, convincing him to kill Kennedy.
After Booth sets the tone, an assortment of characters appears one at a time. Each enters the stage an unhappy person, and individually comes to the conclusion that the solution to all of their problems is to kill the president. Guiseppe Zangara, played marvelously by Chris Brousseau ’10, decides to kill Franklin Delano Roosevelt because he thinks it might finally be the cure for his stomach pains. Leon Czolgosz, played by Professor Marc Destefano, is the child of Polish immigrants, and is disenchanted with the idea of the Land of Opportunity after being a factory worker all his life. After hearing the speeches of famed radical Emma Goldman, he joins her cause and takes up a gun against William McKinley.
Lynette Fromme, played by Marisa Gallego ’06, is the girlfriend of mass-murderer Charles Manson and decides to kill Gerald Ford to impress him. Sara Jane Moore, played by Samantha Malanche ’10, was a friend of Fromme before this. After Fromme fails to discharge her gun, Moore makes a second attempt on President Ford’s life, which also fails. Charles Guiteau, played by Chris Guyon ’11, wishes to gain infamy simply to sell more copies of his book. Lastly, Samuel Byck, as portrayed by Eric Garside, spends at least 15 minutes alone talking to a tape recorder about his intentions to fly a plane into the White House because no one would ever listen to him.
One of the strongest points of the RPI Players’ performances is the depth at which the actors get into character. Each maniacal persona is starkly different from all the others, so the play has lots of different tones. Intermission included, the play ran for two-and-a-half hours, but I personally never noticed. To add visual flair, there were dual projector screens on the far edges of the stage that either highlighted an on-stage presence or aided in the visual setting of a scene. In the case of Zangara’s story, Brousseau was an excellent facial actor, but his eyes and expression were invisible to the audience without the projectors.
Also, Garside is, in my humble opinion, RPI’s resident king of the disgruntled monologue. His performance here was extremely reminiscent of his performance in last year’s Evening of Performance during the short play “Talk Radio.” His level of expression and mastery of his lines look entirely natural. If anything, Assassins’s main shortcoming would have to be the music.
Let me start by saying that the pit orchestra did an excellent job. With the exception of the piano and synthesizer players, every single member of the pit was responsible for multiple instruments at different times in the show. When I say that music is a shortcoming, I’m simply acknowledging that very few of the actors were trained as vocalists. Melecio-Vázquez and Faulstich delivered powerful vocal performances, suiting for the introduction and conclusion of the play.
When I first left the Playhouse, I didn’t know what to make of Assassins, but after thinking back on the play and brushing up on my American history, I was able to appreciate the story as well as the performance. The Players’ shows have an undeniable charm to them, and while I don’t usually make it to most of their shows, I always try to make it to their musical productions.
