"Parade"
Fisher Theatre
Detroit
Feb. 26, 2025
It may be disconcerting to describe as beautiful a show about the tragedy of an innocent man blamed for a horrendous crime, but Alfred Uhry and Jason Robert Brown’s “Parade,” directed by Michael Arden, is just that.
The national touring musical is a revival of the 1998 show, which won a Tony Award for Best Revival of a Musical in 2023. It’s now playing at Detroit’s Fisher Theatre until March 9.
The show is about the infamous, real-life Leo Frank case from 1913 Atlanta, Georgia. Deep in the American South, Frank was a Jewish, Northern transplant married to Georgia native Lucille and managed a pencil factory. When 13-year-old worker Mary Phagan was found sexually assaulted and murdered at the factory, Frank was convicted of the crime on dubious charges and later lynched by an angry mob when his death sentence was commuted to life in prison.
The story is grim with a lot of dark material to cover, which of course, could be presented in a variety of levels of intensity and graphicness. “Parade” tackles the subject matter with care in a way that is poignant and impactful without in-your-face trauma. The result is truly a work of art.
There’s a grace in the staging. The simple use of a balloon, lights and clear-yet-tactful dialogue conveys the nature of the opening crime. While there are no big dance numbers, there is a consistent easy-flowing movement that both tells the story while offering subtle insight into its darker layers.
In the opening Deep South-setting scenes, Confederate soldiers low-key glide into Nazi salutes that fluidly transform into standard American military gestures. The sham trial features three young girls singing together and parroting each other while rotating on a chair, hinting at the routine they had practiced under coaching from the prosecution. In Act II, a mob-like chain gang slowly weaves its way around Frank’s jail cell like sharks circling their pray, foreshadowing his fate.
The set alone offers layers of interest. A simple, central platform serves as a home, courtroom, jail cell, ballroom and more, surrounded by chairs, benches and props as needed. It’s framed with patriotic bunting that convey the passionate Confederate nationalism of the culture. Behind the set is a projection screen that hits home the historical reality of the story, depicting real black-and-white photographs of the locations, newspaper headlines and people involved. Together, the audience is transported to a very specific time and place and never forgets the story is based on real life.
The cast is immensely talented. In addition to a beautiful singing voice, Max Chernin brings the many facets of “Parade’s” Frank to life. As his true character, Chernin portrays Frank as a square, anxious and sometimes rude Northerner and a clear fish out of water in his community. But during his trial, he is transformed into both the sinister child predator and conspirator needed for conviction. As the townspeople take the stand against him, recalling bogus or exaggerated interactions with him, Chernin embodies Frank’s false personas by nearly perfectly lip synching and miming the alleged behavior, seamlessly slipping from the strait-laced, on-edge defendant to confident creeper trying to woo young girls into his office or bragging about his exploits.
As Lucille, Talia Suskauer depicts a woman convinced of her husband’s innocence, fighting to do whatever it takes to free him. While her singing is beautiful and a highlight of the show, her Southern accent is inconsistent and different from the dialect of the other Southern characters, which can be distracting, but she otherwise draws you into her cause.
The show’s title “Parade” highlights the contrast between the rampant injustice and town celebration. It’s named for the parade that takes place during the town’s annual Confederate Memorial Day celebration, which is the date of the initial murder and other important plot points of the story. When the guilty verdict is announced at the end of Act I, the audience – led to share in Frank’s despair – is instead confronted with a jarring, carousel-like musical jubilation that slowly breaks down, all watched over by a phantom Phagan. The result is unsettling. You feel the emotional war between a terrified man damned for a crime he didn’t commit, and the sinister joy of a town obsessed with Southern pride and vengeance, even if it’s not directed at the right person.
Antisemitism is one of the show’s principal themes, but the “otherness” goes beyond that. Frank owns his Jewish identity. The biased headlines and protest signs bearing “Hang the Jew” no doubt highlight the town’s prejudice against his religion. However, in a town that is clearly “still fighting the war,” Frank is also an unwelcome Northerner. By contrast, his wife – also Jewish – owns her Southern identity first. While she doesn’t hide her religion, she is not demonized by the community the way her husband is, even after his conviction, at least not as portrayed in the show. After the case garners national attention and Northern outrage, a duet in Act II by two of the show’s Black characters conveys their frustration that people care about only the Frank conviction, because he is White, while their injustice continues to be ignored. Similarly, the Frank case is credited with inspiring the resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan.
While the show ends in tragedy, it does not end without hope. Many of us might not be able to relate to early 20th-century Georgia, but the themes of the extreme consequences of “otherness” and a mob mentality are more present than ever in today’s society. Suskauer said she hopes people walk away from the show ready to hold a mirror up to their own lives. I agree.
