I <3 New York

Much like the freshmen’s first year of instruction, Soph-Frosh performed their song and dance asynchronously. With disembodied dancers and a band as loud as the intrusive thoughts that sped through our heads during this performance, the production traveled as fast as our will to stay and watch the show.

The entire plot felt dim. The culminating climax of a lightswitch in the Empire State Building turned off was only revealed at the 35 minute mark, yet they spent time jabbing at Junior SING! for being just as slow (if not slower) in their script (a term used liberally). It’s not their fault though. They were probably writing from a shoebox with no power.

Our protagonist Hazel (Pimada Phongsuriya) makes a pungent comeback to NYC after being mysteriously absent for five years, now wondering why the city doesn’t mirror the one she once knew. In her quest to reacquaint herself with the city, Hazel meets archetypal, borough-coded friends along the way, with traits like rich, mean, submissive crony with a conscience but no spine, and rich with eclecticism. As they tour the city, they stumble upon many of New York’s hidden gems, such as Yankee Stadium’s parking lot and a backward sign at a subway station housing a barefooted Justin (Oliver Hollman).

After this journey, the entire cast is almost put to death by surprise antagonist Eva (Lea Esipov) and her schemes, which, while bathed in darkness, lack any foreshadowing or logic. Just as quickly as Eva’s plot is revealed, it gets resolved. Eva is enlightened of the beauty of NYC only after a moving musical number riddled with dissonance. With a contrived conflict revealed with only 20 minutes left in the show, it’s no wonder the only character development in the show was reserved for Justin, who thankfully finds some shoes to wear for the ending number.

We do appreciate the parallelism and foreshadowing presented in their editing, though. You can see certain characters disappear and reappear while speaking, hinting at the darkness they will soon face. The constant back and forth between visible and invisible dancers kept the audience on their toes as no one knew when half the crew would dissipate into thin air—much like the conflict after 30 seconds.

From an ominous ice cream cone laying on the counter of the ice cream shop to the random zooms on the fateful cast’s faces, Soph-Frosh surely delivered, just maybe not as brightly as the rest.