39 albums.

40 Top-40 hits.

What A Beautiful Noise coming up from the street. It’s got a beautiful sound. It’s got a beautiful beat. What A Beautiful Noise…coming up from Pennsylvania Avenue as the Neil Diamond biopic stage musical makes its way onto the main stage of The National Theater as part of Broadway at The National this holiday season. With book by Anthony McCarten and music & lyrics by Neil Diamond, this heartfelt, truly intense musical biopic, lives up to its namesake and has audiences of all ages falling under its mesmerizing charm.

Did the world really need yet another jukebox musical? In the case of Neil Diamond? Yes. Mostly because librettist Anthony McCarten has created a realistic fairytale out of an ordinary story. Neil Diamond’s work is beloved by my husband and although he turned me down to accompany me to the show (stating, and I quote, “…he isn’t all that interesting of a guy to have his life story told…”) when I returned with a full report on the evening’s events, he regretted not joining me. What’s truly remarkable about McCarten’s book is the way he shines a bright— rhinestone and sequin— light on the struggles and pressures of being what the world expects you to be once you’ve achieved a certain level of success and fame, and how that balances out with your own inner demons. McCarten sets out to normalize needing therapy as a useful tool in one’s wheelhouse of coping mechanisms, even if the protagonist is resistant at first. The way the whole narrative comes together in a series of flashbacks that flow in a mostly linear fashion isn’t anything new for musical-theatre setups, but the way it’s executed for A Beautiful Noise breaks the mold and engages the audience in a heartfelt and soul-captivating way that cannot be denied.

The story itself is simple. And yet vastly complex because of the way it’s being told. And the sensationalism of it isn’t that it’s Neil Diamond— this could literally be anyone who has ever struggled with ‘clouds’, as Diamond refers to his depression, anyone who has ever had to grapple with living up to their own expectations and the expectations they perceive are pressed upon them by others. And the fact that Neil Diamond is presented as finding strength, catharsis, release, and peace through therapy is so very uplifting, healing, and helpful that everyone could truly benefit from this miraculous musical experience.

David Rockwell’s Scenic Design is somewhat simplistic— there’s even a moment at the end where the minimalist set, which is composed predominantly of lighting fixtures (by way of Lighting Designer Kevin Adams) completely disappears and you don’t mind at all because of the raw talent, emotion, and expression that’s happening on the stage in that moment. Bits of scenery are swept in and out by the cast just to delineate and demarcate location and time stamps, but other than the two chairs of the therapists’ office, there is little that remains concrete in the scenic design and that gels sublimely with the overall verve of the show. Kevin Adams’ lighting is more in tune with the notion of being a concert-experience, which also services the show well as multiple memories— particularly those that flash up in the second act— are of Neil Diamond out on the road, on tour, giving concerts. There are definitely a few too many “lights up on the house” moments for my tastes, but as they coincide with invited sing-a-long moments, most of the rest of the audience doesn’t seem to mind.

Somebody better check the fashion district of Manhattan because Emilio Sosa’s costume design has left it bereft of every single sequin, inch of gold, silver, and black lamé and glittery fabric, denim, and sparkly fringe. There’s even a line in the dialogue, where the therapist character, published only as “Doctor” and Neil Diamond are discussing ‘what comes next’ and he says something to the effect of “…a whole lot more sequins.” And there are times in the production where the outfits, both on ‘Neil- Then’ and on the ensemble and dance corps are so overrun with sequins, sparkles, rhinestones, and glitter that when the lights hit them, the effect is blinding. And there’s a montage in the second act where ‘Neil-Then’ hits at least three different costume changes in a blurring whirl of about two minute, each more lavishly embellished with sparkling material and sequins than the last. “Forever In Blue Jeans” features something like a thousand yards of denim, bedecked on every member of the ensemble and Marsha as they strut and shine their way through that number. Emilio Sosa has effortlessly captured all the glamor and glitz of the sartorial world of Neil Diamond’s illustrious touring world and it creates its own hypnotic quality for the show.

From the moment Neil-Now delves into the book— the complete song lyrics book of Neil Diamond that the Doctor presents to him in their therapy session— the play takes a slightly surreal twist, which blurs the lines between reality and memory, recalling versus reliving, and experiencing versus remembering. Director Michael Mayer has the chair in which Neil-Now sits positioned in such a way that as the book is opened and the titular number, blended into a cacophonous medley, takes over— each ensemble member steps up and out from behind the chair as if they were literally crawling out of the book. The visual effect is quite striking and the metaphorical actualization that these dancers, these ensemble members are the manifestation of his song lyrics come to life is stunning. Mayer’s direction is curious if only because you’re never quite sure where Neil-Now is in the moment when these things are happening. While the actor hardly ever leaves the stage, there are definitely moments where he’s engaging with and interacting with the shades of his past as if he were there and not merely reliving it, and other moments where he’s just observing. This grows all the more vexing because the actor playing the Doctor, to a lesser degree, exhibits similar behaviors and it’s mind-boggling as to just what of it she’s experiencing. His memories as he’ perceiving them or her own interpretation on them?

All of that wondrous curiosity is exponentially enhanced by Steven Hoggett’s intense choreography. ‘The Beautiful Noise’ as they are described in the program— Cooper Clack, Chris Marsh Clark, Deirdre Dunkin, Ginger Hurley, Spencer Donovan Jones, Ellen McGihon, Thabitha Moruthane, Tasheim Ramsey Pack, Jeilani Rhone-Collins, J’Kobe Wallace— are the show’s throbbing pulse, the effervescent emotional fluid that surges through every song. They are the dance corps that brings the beat of these moments to vibrantly resilient and vivaciously awe-inspiring life. Executing Hoggett’s choreography with clean movements, extraordinarily indefatigable energy and earnest, perpetual smiles, you can’t help but tap your toes, bop and sway along, and desperately wish you were up dancing with them every step of the way. ‘The Beautiful Noise’, as they are collectively referred to, feature heavily throughout the production, being almost as important as the Neil Diamond characters themselves (both ‘Then’ and ‘Now’) in a physical sense and a symbolic sense. They represent the lyrics of his songs, the heart, life, and breath of his songs, and become an intrinsically impressive component of the narrative in addition to wowing the audience every step of the journey.

Several of ‘The Beautiful Noise’ appear as featured song soloists, most notably Spencer Donovan Jones as the “Shiloh” soloist, appearing near the end of the production with this almost mournful yet strikingly gorgeous sound. Dierdre Dunkin, Ellen McGihon, and Thabitha Moruthane are featured as ‘backup singers’ for a great many of the numbers and their vocals glide effortlessly through these backing harmonies, giving these Neil Diamond songs the hearty and robust vocal support they both need and deserve. Other notable performers amid the ensemble include Kate A. Mulligan as they sassy, all-tude-no-crap Ellie Greenwhich, whom Diamond credits with giving him his start as well as Mulligan (doubling up) and Michael Accardo, playing Rose and Kieve Diamond respectively. While the ‘Diamond Parents’ aren’t featured until near the very end of the performance, both Mulligan and Accardo make their mark on the show as a whole in those pivotal moments of Neil Diamond’s moment of self-discovery amid his memories.

While all three of his wives are mentioned, it is in fact Katie (the current wife) who has him pursuing the path of therapy, only two of them appear as featured characters in the production. Jaye (Tiffany Tatreau) is giddy and upbeat upon first meeting her. Tatreau is the epitome of the simplistic doting wife who watches the man she loves slip away into the arms of another, as is so often the case in situations like Diamond’s. Playing the long-standing wife Marsha, Hannah Jewel Kohn is an unfettered spirit all her own. Wild and free and just a bit flirtatious from the introduction of her character, you get these really nuanced moments delivered from Kohn in moments with ‘Neil Then.’ When Kohn and ‘Neil Then’ (played by the incomparable Nick Fradiani) twine their voices together for “Play Me”, it is this beautifully burgeoning moment of sincere, mellowed love blossoming between them. As you watch Kohn’s Marsha fray apart at the seams in her fabulous stunner of a solo, “Forever in Blue Jeans” you get the notion that her mercurial nature is as tempestuous as the song that’s being executed. And for as lovingly moving as their first duet is, when the pair coalesce upon “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” that same emotional intensity is viscerally present though it has withered and shriveled from glorious, earnest love to soured, broken regret. Kohn is a knockout in the role, creating a dynamic character amid a sea of perpetually churning music.

Doctor (Lisa Reneé Pitts) and ‘Neil Now’ (Robert Westenberg) are framework, catalyst, deus-ex-machina, narrators, and players all rolled up into one two-person entity. The pair have a brilliant repartee, particularly early on with their whip-snap one-liners exchanged back and forth between one another. There is a disgruntled edge that Westenberg brings to the forefront of their opening gambit, softened by the music as the story unfolds. There’s a gentle depth that Pitts’ character gets to probe as well, but mostly she serves as a narrative prompt, or sounding board if you like, to keep Westenberg’s character progressing through the experience. There are a great many moments when Westenberg finds his character wholly absorbed in the experience of one his recollections, occasionally even attempting to rewrite his narrative by nearly interacting with his former self. It’s a fascinating concept, watching the interplay between Westenberg and all of the characters that populate his memories. It is truly beautiful and nearly an indescribable experience. Both Pitts and Westenberg spend the duration of the musical not singing. Right up until the climactic finale, which is enough to bring a level of ugly-cry catharsis to the whole of the audience. Westenberg sings “I Am…I Said” with raw emotion, truly sounding like the descriptive epitaph so often used to describe Neil Diamond— ‘gravel wrapped in velvet’— unwound and at the end of his career. It’s astonishing and tragically beautiful and the most emotionally moving moment in the show.

If you want a Neil Diamond sound-alike, Nick Fradiani is your guy. And once they bedeck him rhinestones, sequins, and fringe, with the pompadour-coiffed hair, he’s a spot-on look-alike too. Rolling through all of the iconic numbers, and some of the lesser known ones too, there is something undeniably classic about Fradiani’s portrayal as this man living in history. Watching him light up the stage during “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show” is a true spiritual experience and is honestly like going to a soul-felt tent-revival…of rock and roll. And even though the character makes choices that the audience may disagree with (we cannot rewrite history, much as we’d like to try), Fradiani wins everyone over when he starts in with “Sweet Caroline”, which serves as both the Act I finale and a house-invited sing-along.

It’s a remarkable piece of theatrical artistry for the framework alone, not to mention the way the musical showcases ordinary struggles— loving two people at the same time, attempting to extrapolate the expectations of others from your perception of what those expectations are, battling with depression, fighting one’s inner demons— and makes them both relatable and addressable. And Neil Diamond’s personal journey and experience, though colored richly with fame, fortune, success, and sequins, as presented as more than just a song-catalog-jukebox-musical. The show is beyond being a biopic jukebox show; it’s a sparking diamond of its time; it truly lives up to its namesake.

Running Time: 2 hours and 20 minutes with one intermission

A Beautiful Noise: The Neil Diamond Musical plays through December 8th 2024 with Broadway at The National— 1321 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington, DC 20004. For tickets call the box office at (202) 628-6161 or purchase them online.