Hamilton Act One (The Awesome Mix)

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Anyway, enough about Lyndon Johnson’s bunghole, let’s get back to Hamilton and complicated historical figures.

-out of context quote

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NOTE: This Is Part 2 of a look at Hamilton. For the first part click here. I will be talking about the film/play with no restraint on spoilers so bring out the horn.

The Hamilton Mixtapes

When it comes to Hamilton, I find the pre-Broadway title of The Hamilton Mixtapes to be the perfect metaphor for the feel and presentation of the show. Kids today may not know but in an age before iPods (where you can jump around artists and genres at the touch of a button…why am I explaining this?), a “mixtape” was originally a cassette tape where you would record a collection of songs from various albums and artists to make kind of a personal “Greatest Hits” collection without having to swap out tapes or CDs. Think Peter Quill’s “Awesome Mix” in Guardians of the Galaxy (hence my subtitle for this piece).

While I was a complete nerd who just recorded the songs in sequential order with two second gaps, one popular means of creating mixtapes was to crossfade the songs in interesting ways. That means you would overlay 2 songs as a way to transition from the end of one one to the beginning of the next, but also be used as method of remixing into new creations. Indeed, it became popular in hip-hop to use the practice to create mashups and new remixes based on sampling.

While the concept of reprising earlier songs is nothing new in musical theater, Hamilton lives up to it’s mixtape origins by “sampling” from it’s own repertoire consistently throughout the show. They do this by taking lines, musical hooks and turns of phrase and remixing them by giving them new context as the play moves from it’s rollicking and freewheeling first act (The Awesome Mix) to it’s more serious and sober second act (The Feels Mix). Alexander Hamilton’s signature line “not throwing away my shot” is used several times, and never in the same situation or context twice.

Typing all of that about mixtapes above with the knowledge that a good portion of the audience reading it may only see gibberish makes me feel so old I’m overcome with the urge to start caring about property values, even though I’m technically a millennial so I can’t afford a house that isn’t more than a cardboard box over a sinkhole.

WE ALSO HAD TO DIAL THE PHONE WITH OUR FINGERS YOU LITTLE SHITS!

Sorry, got carried away for a second there. A case of “the crankies” was taking over me. Get…off…my…laaaaawn…. (which I don’t have)

Mixtapes were great vehicles for self expression. They were snapshots of a person’s sensibilities at a point in time. Maybe you had a happy tape for when you wanted a pick me up, or a not so happy tape for when you wanted to explore the gloomier side of the emotional spectrum? If you wanted to bond with a new friend or romantic interest, one of the best ways was to give them a tape of personally curated music you liked.

In the DVD extras for the 2006 film The Smokin’ Aces (what a weird reference to pull in 2020), I remember the extra features talked about Director Joe Carnahan’s process of helping his ensemble cast find their different characters by giving them all mixtapes of music their characters would listen to. While I like this idea, if it were me I would slip in one anachronistic choice just for a bit of character depth. Like this tattooed and pierced punk rocker also really digs early Beach Boys stuff.

Hamilton as a musical manages to capture that mixtape feel. The patchwork, mash up of genres, moods, and delivery styles. The freewheeling, unrelenting pace careening from one style to another. The discovery of something new at each turn. If the songs or the performances were of less quality, it would likely fall apart, and yet it all works together.

While the marketing and PR of the show zeroed in on the hip-hop musical aspects as a primary selling point (and it is perhaps the most novel aspect introduced here), that’s merely one facet of what the show offers. The play uses a variety of musical styles – which I will clumsily try to describe in ways that will likely make audiophiles scream into a pillow and want to punch me.

I agonized over how to structure this piece and decided that sometimes the simplest way is the best. I will be going through the play, song by song and talking about each of them as I go. Yes there are 46 of them. Settle in. Some of the songs are shorter, more interstitial pieces designed more for exposition or story connective tissue, so some I’ll have more to say about than others.

So with that in mind, let’s kick it off with the track that started it all.

“Alexander Hamilton”

I wasn’t kidding when I said the song that started it all. Here’s Lin-Manuel Miranda performing what would become the play’s opening overture number “Alexander Hamilton” at the White House in 2009.

First of all, this performance, with a nervous guy (largely an unknown at the time) performing for the President, eventually getting a standing ovation may help illustrate what Lin found compelling about Alexander Hamilton as a figure of study. For all of the faults one can lay at the feet of the real Alexander Hamilton, his story does represent a compelling rags to riches tale, of a poor bastard (literally in the cases of both words) who feels compelled to make something of himself, driven by his skill with a quill and his ambition to be a part of something bigger. The framing of Hamilton as an immigrant story not only emphasizes that anti-immigrant sentiment is as old as the hills, but that it’s always been bullshit. America, as a nation, is built on the sweat and ideas of immigrants and Hamilton putting that notion front and center is one of it’s more admirable qualities.

In part one I mentioned how nobody could have predicted Hamilton would become a massive hit. That’s still largely true, but having the enthusiastic endorsement of the most popular American POTUS of all time (holds the top two spots for most votes received by any candidate) probably went a long way towards making it a hit.

The performance doesn’t have the bells and whistles of the pumped up Broadway overture it would become, where the other characters fill out verses and the song has a much more sweeping feel due to a bigger cast and more fleshed out musical arrangement. It’s stripped down to the bare nuts and bolts of the words and the delivery. Miranda’s range as a singer is tested here, as he struggles hitting the higher notes and his voice cracks in some strange ways. His limits as a singer are kind of exposed. Yet the sincerity shines through. The vulnerability that he infused into Alexander Hamilton is there.

This is a complete nerd, rapping about the life story of a bigger nerd, in front of a US President who is also a huge nerd. The cultural rise of niche, geeky entertainment going mainstream is really the most succinct trend I can attach this to in order to explain it. The idea that the audience turned out for Hamilton when it hit Broadway is still baffling in the best possible way.

Just for full disclosure before I go any further, I can’t sing. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m throwing stones here, by pointing out Miranda’s singing. He is still 1000% better at it than me and I respect the guts to do it. I also have a bigger point to make, so I don’t want it to seem like I’m beating up on the guy for no reason (however it is one of the more common criticisms I’ve seen, so I felt it needed mentioning). I’ll get into it more later on, but I actually appreciate the rough around the edges aspect his singing brings to the play and I think his other performance skills more than make up for it. I like unique voices, and basically I feel like his performance brings a level of realness to the character.

While Miranda’s limitations as a singer may be laid bare, the video also showcases his talents. His strengths are in his way with words and his skill as a composer. Which is fitting that he found inspiration in a long dead Founding Father who wrote himself into and out of trouble frequently. Miranda saw Alexander Hamilton’s story as one about relentless will and the power of words and ideas to change the world. And in a moment of mad artistic alchemy, he saw it as a hip hop musical. I can roll with the absolute batshittery of that gamble.

That said, Hamilton is more than just a novelty. There’s something tragically Shakespearean in the story of Alexander Hamilton, which also no doubt played a role in making his story suitable for dramatizing on the stage. The Bard’s tragic heroes never died peacefully in their sleep (it’s kind of right there in the name) and Alexander Hamilton also makes for a compelling doomed protagonist. Shakespearean tragedies are full of difficult, morally complicated characters often down by their own “fatal flaws”. Alexander Hamilton’s legacy as a figure whose obstinate stubbornness (and overestimation of his opponent’s honour at a crucial moment) led to his death makes him a perfect tragic figure. As a result of being more known for his death than his life, his scholarly and historical accomplishments went largely overlooked due to a sex scandal that destroyed his reputation (…a trendsetter in many ways). Meanwhile his rivals – Thomas Jefferson in particular – gained near God-like reverence in American history, due to the fact that they outlived him and got to define his legacy. The man who at a crucial moment “threw away his shot” by firing in the air was shot down by a rival he simply could not coexist with but could not separate his destiny from. It all makes sense from a dramatic perspective.

Side note: The Shakespeare allusion may seem like an overreach, in an era where we see The Bard’s plays as highbrow theater, but the reality is that Shakespeare’s work played to the rabble. They were popular entertainment of their day, often reworking history to make it relevant to Elizabethan English audiences in similar ways that Hamilton does.

I see the power in this opening song and this early performance of it in it’s simplicity. It echoes the humble beginnings of Alexander Hamilton. With nothing more than a piano, a beat and a weaving of words, Miranda manages to paint a succinct and compelling story, telling the pre-Revolutionary life story of Alexander Hamilton in a compact four minute song. Ron Chernow (who wrote the book Hamilton is based on called…Alexander Hamilton) described hearing the song as Miranda taking a chunk of his book, putting it through the laundry and it coming out shrunk down on a postage stamp.

This song also illustrates where some of the more substantive criticisms of Hamilton come in, as I should probably go ahead and address the elephant in the room that I’ve been avoiding until I could get into the spoilers section.

While working as a shipping clerk for his deceased mother’s landlord in St. Croix, Alexander Hamilton processed the sales of goods for clients as a legal representative. That included processing the sale of slaves (estimated to be numbered in the hundreds). While “Alexander Hamilton” gets close to this, it doesn’t outright say it.

The ten-dollar founding father without a father/
Got a lot farther by working a lot harder/
By being a lot smarter/
By being a self-starter/
By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter/
And every day while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away/
Across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up/
Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of/
The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter/

Then further on in the song…

There would have been nothin’ left to do for someone less astute/
He woulda been dead or destitute without a cent of restitution/
Started workin’, clerkin’ for his late mother’s landlord/
Tradin’ sugar cane and rum and all the things he can’t afford/

It gets close, but doesn’t tie the two concepts together. Some critics, fairly so, have pointed out the show glosses over Alexander Hamilton’s participation within the slave trade. I can’t really argue against that based on the examples sighted above. The one thing I will mention is that the events of the play focus primarily on Alexander Hamilton, after arriving in America (this song is the only one that takes place prior to the revolution). At that point in his life, Hamilton had become an outspoken abolitionist and opponent of slavery.

Would inclusion of this information have made for a more accurate portrayal? Now doubt it probably would have been more comprehensive. I guess my lukewarm take on it is that I would imagine much of the development of Hamilton as a Broadway musical would have been a process of deciding how much of history to depict faithfully, and how many concessions had to be made to appeal to the predominantly white Broadway audience.

I think it’s easy to overlook now, with hindsight knowledge that Hamilton became a box office breaking runaway hit, that a hip hop musical performed by People of Colour playing America’s founders unequivocally condemning slavery wasn’t a guaranteed thing.

As I mentioned in part one, we live in a post-Black Panther (Rest in Piece, Chadwick Boseman), post-Thor Ragnarok, post-Get Out world now where popular art created by POC that deconstruct systems of oppression in more nuanced ways but still manage to be crowd pleasing and big box office entertainment is a thing. We weren’t quite there yet in 2015. Hamilton was the cautious dipping of the toes into a lake we would all dive head first into a few years later.

It is important when evaluating Hamilton to take into account the prevailing cultural winds of the time it was released, and also the time it was conceived. 2009 is miles apart from where we are in 2020 in regards to talking about the legacy of colonialism, slavery and Indigenous genocide, just to name a few of the “greatest hits” of national shames shared by Canada and the US. Ferguson and the Black Lives Matter movement galvanizing conversations about systemic police violence was still years away. Conversations regarding white privilege were still very much in the stage of tip-toeing around insecurities of white folks. Every spoonful of uncomfortable truth accompanied by a reassuring pat on the head and a cookie. Every act of malicious bigotry counterbalanced with a White Savior character, there to assure the audience that they would have been on the right side of history (we’ve seen with how many people eagerly jumped on the Trump bandwagon, that is NOT the case). More simplistic depictions of slavery tended to show it as a situational evil confined to the past, but not a systemic one that still has lingering effects today.

While Quentin Tarantino’s history with race in movies is it’s own mess to untangle, there’s no better example I can think of in illustrating the change in the conversation than the difference in tone from Django Unchained (2012) as a wish fulfillment fantasy where an ex-slave gets revenge on cartoonishly evil slavers, and The Hateful Eight (2015) where even the “good” white characters like “The Hangman” John Ruth are revealed to have some form of racism bubbling underneath the surface. The difference between these approaches is emblematic of the refining the conversation on racism have gone through the past five years. One exists in a world where privileged audiences can pat themselves on the back for being on the right side, cheering on the simplistic fantasy of an ex-slave wrecking evil slavers (from a comfortable historical distance) and the other exists in a world where the moment a Person of Colour acts out of line with what the “good” white character finds acceptable, the mask drops away.

This two year change in the conversation on racism reveals a massive shift in the way we view systems of oppression and inequality and it’s a good thing to take stock of that. Racism, homophobia, misogyny, transphobia, ableism, etc aren’t evils that can be defeated by simplistic approaches. They are encoded into our legal, electoral, economic, cultural and educational systems in ways often so subtle that most people don’t understand where the points connect. Understanding this, is the difference between not using particular words because they are offensive, and actually examining and addressing the underlying systems and attitudes those words exist as merely the surface level manifestation of.

That change in approach and mindset is a relatively recent thing. The election of Donald Trump and subsequent emboldening of white supremacists made evolving that conversation necessary because it became clear that there was more work to be done. As a result of the long trip from early conception to Broadway, to mass availability, Hamilton absolutely exists as a holdover from that simpler time. Perhaps a more optimistic time when it seemed like America’s first Black President heralded a better tomorrow. As a result, it does find itself lumped into that less nuanced version of slavery as a conquered villain of the past, rather than a systemic evil that still has lingering effects to this day. It doesn’t make Hamilton bad necessarily (more well meaning, with a few blind spots that haven’t aged well), just that every piece of art exists in the context of it’s time. Every piece of art is a part of a conversation that carries on the moment it is released, and Hamilton’s treatment of racial issues would likely be tackled much differently if the play were being written today because we’re in a different place. The issue of systemic injustice would likely be much more front and center, because that’s the conversation we’re having now.

Another thing I wanted to talk about is scope. Every piece of narrative art chooses it’s scope (ie – how much of a given subject matter it is going to include). This is particularly true when adapting history for stage or screen. Do you make Wyatt Earp as a sprawling 3 hour birth-to-death biography of the legendary lawman like Kevin Costner did? Or do you make Tombstone, a breezy, popcorn “loosely based on…” movie focused on the part most people care about (the stuff in Tombstone Arizona, and the gunfight at the OK Corral) and chucking out everything else? I’ll say one of these approaches makes for a fun, quotable movie going experience and the other is Wyatt Earp.

These examples were two very different films based on the same history made around the same time, and there’s certainly room for both. Generally the version that focused its scope is the better regarded version. Did anyone in the real history actually say the lines “You tell ’em I’m coming, and Hell’s coming with me! “, “I’m your Huckleberry”, or “Skin that smoke wagon and see what happens?” Probably not, but I’ll bet you can’t name any lines from that other movie. Sometimes as a creator, the rule of cool takes over where historical accuracy falters and you make changes for the sake of drama and modern relevance.

Sidenotes: Wyatt Earp was trigger happy cop who inflated his own legend – post retirement – due to performing on the travelling Wild West Show circuit, after the automobile (and the dawn of the modern era) brought the age of the wild west to a close. There are more than a few stories of Wyatt Earp shooting “suspects” without due process, or in the back that I would imagine would play much differently today as conversations about the role of policing in society have changed dramatically. Also, there were numerous witnesses at the OK Corral who testified that the McLaury’s and Clanton’s were surrendering and trying to show they were unarmed when the Earp’s and Doc Holliday opened fire on them. Tombstone would be a much different movie today.

Alexander Hamilton’s youth as a matter of discussion, points back to the fact that all of us participate in exploitative, toxic systems that sometimes we don’t have the power to change. All indications I’ve been able to find have said that by the time of the revolutionary period depicted in the play, Alexander Hamilton so despised the institution of slavery (due to seeing up close the horrors it involved), he became a loud and proud abolitionist, and used his skill as a writer to change minds about it once he had influence. His attitudes regarding the intellectual capabilities of Black people were pretty progressive for his time where many of his colonialist contemporaries held outright dismissive views of the intelligence of non-white people. When he got to America, he saw an opportunity to make a better world than the one he saw growing up.

As far as historical figures to dust off and give a new lease on life in the public consciousness, you could do a lot worse.

Hamilton as a piece of art is imperfect. It has blind spots, rough patches and places where it’s aged poorly. I don’t see that as a negative, I see it as an indication that we’ve made progress since. That’s still valuable.

One of the reasons I fervently push back against purity politics is, often as a belief structure it ignores the capacity for change in favour of an over simplified view of humanity where what you were in the past is what you’ll always be (that’s often why populists flock to it). It forces a binary belief structure where one is either on the “good” side or the “bad” side, an all or nothing basis. That tends to clash with history which if you look close enough is full of imperfect people who did right when they had a chance.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was a spoiled trust fund kid who became one of the post progressive American Presidents in history, creating the social safety net, lifting millions out of poverty during the Great Depression.

Chester A. Arthur was a corrupt, sleazebag who filled his pockets due the patronage his (much lobbied for) job as Collector for the New York Port customs house allowed him. Upon his winning the Vice Presidency and ascendance following James Garfield’s assassination, he was able to use his knowledge of the corruption in the public service system in order to dismantle that corruption.

Tommy Douglas (the father of universal health care, in Canada), wrote a college thesis in 1930 advocating for eugenics policies – euthanizing or sterilizing “low intelligence” people and the mentally ill among other horrible things. When he took office as Saskatchewan Premier in 1944 his government oversaw creations of vocational training programs for people with developmental disabilities, therapy programs for mental illness and his crowning achievement, universal health care.

Lyndon Johnson was a racist bully and Texas good ol’ boy who used his knowledge of government and the Senate to push the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Act through a hostile congress in what was seen as a betrayal by his former “Dixiecrat” running buddies. He became a vocal advocate for affirmative action policies to address a lack of education and employment opportunities among minority groups.

Sidenote: He also used to talk about his nuts and bunghole while ordering pants from his tailor. Presented for you amusement/horror below.

Anyway, enough about Lyndon Johnson’s bunghole, let’s get back to Hamilton and complicated historical figures. (Sidenote: I honestly have so much more to say about LBJ that I cut out basically an entire essay about how insane and contradictory he was. That’ll be a story for another day.)

As a statesman with power and influence, Alexander Hamilton helped found the New York Manumission Society, which was dedicated to the abolition of slavery in New York State (and eventually on a federal level). He wrote essays condemning it, argued in Congress and cabinet for abolition, used his gift for words to do good.

Alexander Hamilton as a historical figure is no doubt a complicated one. There’s no getting around it. He certainly didn’t have a pristine record when judged by modern contexts. His economic policies cast a long, dark shadow today. While he was progressive for his time on some things, others haven’t aged as well.

The question is, as a fictional construct, what do you do with him? As a historical figure he has been dead and gone for 200+ years. His story has largely been covered in great detail by historians. What value does he have as a dramatic idea? Alexander Hamilton, as written and played by Miranda in the play/film is an avatar for the power of words and ideas to move mountains and shape history. In an era of anti-intellectualism, the idea that the pen has power is one that resonates. As a person who also sometimes writes far too much (Exhibit A: this whole thing), I’ve rarely identified with a character as much as A-Hams.

It’s all part of the reason I’m inclined to give Lin-Manuel Miranda the benefit of the doubt when it comes to things left out of the play or that maybe could have used another edit. I get it. Literally every piece I post here as good as it’ll be, but it is not finished. If I had my way it would never be finished, and I would just keep tinkering, editing and adding to each piece and you, reading this, would never end up seeing any of it because each thing I write is as good as I can make it within the time frame I’ve allowed myself. The fact that I’ve published anything here is due solely to the idea that eventually it comes a time when you have to say “pencils down” in order to move ahead. You have to show it at some point. I think a lot of writers and creative types in general can identify with that energy of Alexander Hamilton of having that drive to be relentlessly thinking, creating and writing “like he’s running out of time” because we all are to one degree or another.

“Aaron Burr, Sir”

Oh right, there are 45 other songs in this show. Yes I did just write an essay in the first entry under the guise of talking about the first song in the show. Don’t worry, I front loaded it with most of the heavy stuff. The rest will move a bit quicker.

The purpose of this song is to introduce the antagonist of the play as well as Hamilton’s circle of friends. We see Hamilton meet his friend, turned rival, Aaron Burr (Leslie Odom Jr). Burr gives Hamilton some life advice: “Talk less, smile more.” It establishes the contrast between them as a driven, idealist who wants to change the world (Hamilton) and a passive pragmatist without convictions beyond social climbing and gaining power (Burr).

One of the criticisms of the play I’ve seen most is that Aaron Burr’s hesitant, non-committal characterization is a bit one dimensional. I tend to disagree with this, even though lines like “don’t tell them what you’re against or what you’re for” are admittedly a little on the nose and lacking some of the poetry found elsewhere in the play. I think where Burr’s characterization really fleshes out are his songs later in the show, but I’ll get there in due time.

We also meet Hamilton’s fellow Sons of Liberty: boozy abolitionist John Laurens (Anthony Ramos), charismatic Frenchman Marquis de Lafayette (Daveed Diggs), and boorish, good natured, tailor Hercules Mulligan (Okieriete Onaodowan).

One of the things that really makes the first half work is the friendship and camaraderie of this central quartet. The four have a fun chemistry as the four personalities play well together. Lafayette is the member of the group who is much cooler than his friends. Mulligan is the guy who sometimes lacks a filter and says crude things (such as his lamentation about how difficult it is to have intercourse over four set of corsets and indicates that he may either enjoy stealing or having relations with horses…yup that happens). John Laurens is the drunk who loses his volume control when he’s had a few. Hamilton is the awkward nerd just happy to have friends.

One thing I like about this introduction is it mirrors the humble origins of these heroes. When they introduce themselves in the pub, they beatbox for each other without much in the way of musical accompaniment. It’s a great way to instantly show the rapport between them.

“My Shot”

This is perhaps the play’s most iconic number. In musicals there’s something called the “I Want” song. It helps flesh out the motivations of the characters and outline their goals. This song outlines the goals of not only Hamilton, but the rest of the quartet as well.

Hamilton wants to make something of himself. Lafayette wants to inspire France overthrow it’s Monarchy. Mulligan sees the war as his chance to rise above his station as a tailor (wonder if he gets people talking to him about their nuts and bunghole too). Laurens is focused on the issue of slavery and how America can never be truly free until slavery is abolished. Laurens also plans to lead a battalion of freed Black Patriots.

That last part was interesting to me. Apparently that was a real thing. Laurens wanted to recruit a brigade of 3000 slaves to fight in exchange for freedom. He was ultimately blocked by the South Carolina congress, but one of the interesting parts of learning about the history behind Hamilton is learning about figures like John Laurens who were ahead of their time.

“Not throwing away my shot” is a refrain Alexander Hamilton evokes a number of times throughout the play, rarely ever in the same context twice. Here, it’s used to mean taking advantage of an opportunity to make something of yourself.

Beyond outlining the motivations of Hamilton and friends, this is just a fun song. It’s inspirational and with the fist pumping exclamations of “rise up!”, it builds to a satisfying conclusion. I can see why it resonates today. We stand on the precipice of a massive generational shift and (hopefully) a revolutionary level of change in 2021 (and beyond) with the rise of post millennial generations demanding that action be taken on long standing issues like police brutality, wealth disparity, climate change and gun violence.

This is where the history of Hamilton fades away and the question about what the play has to offer today comes in. As much as we may want to pick away at historical inaccuracies (and I’ll likely do more of that because the stories are kind of interesting) the overall spirit of pushing to make a better world still resonates. Even if some history has to be fudged to do it, that’s the cool thing about art. You can give old things new meaning.

Best lines: 

A bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists?
Give me a position, show me where the ammunition is!

“The Story Of Tonight”

This one is pretty short, but it’s a song that is revisited within the first half. It’s basically when our foursome (sometimes joined by Burr) get together to toast to their success.

This one is almost an acapella song, befitting a drunken toast made at the end of a night of bonding and revelry. These songs do a lot to develop the camaraderie between the four revolutionaries.

Numbers like “The Story of Tonight” do a good job building that feeling of yearning to see these scrappy underdogs succeed. We celebrate with the characters, making their victories seem more jubilant. These are young men, perhaps naive about the realities of war and how the world works, dream of glory and making a better world. If the first half and second half can be boiled down to tones, the first half is about the brashness of youth, and the second is about the realities of life, responsibility, accountability and death.

Interesting thing about this one is John Laurens repeated line “I may not live to see our glory.” It’s leaping ahead a bit, but John Laurens didn’t live to see the nation he hoped to build. His death and exit from American history is one of the true “what ifs” of history. Considering his passionate anti-slavery stances, he could have been a much needed ally to abolitionists.

“The Schuyler Sisters”

Finally, we break up this sausage party and talk about the ladies.

In this song we are introduced to the three Schuyler Sisters. Eldest, educated, “never satisfied” Angelica (Renee Elise Goldsberry), sweet natured Eliza (Phillippa Soo)…and precocious younger sister And Peggy (Jasmine Cephas Jones).

Peggy’s catchphrase of butting in with “…and Peggy” every time her sisters are mentioned gets a laugh from me every time. It does reduce her to a bit of a one note joke, but dammit if Jasmine doesn’t make the joke land in the concert film. She has a bigger role in the second half, when she is recast (as most of the central players will be), but we’ll get there in the next edition.

Fun fact: Hamilton named it’s various market tours after characters in the play. The San Fran/Puerto Rico tour was called the “And Peggy Tour”.

This song is where Hamilton shows it’s depth in musical styles. This is a 60’s R&B girl group song that wouldn’t feel out of place on a Motown record (maybe with a little more sing-talking). The three women have a great harmony singing together.

Renee Elise Goldberry stands out here establishing Angelica as an educated, forceful woman who doesn’t fall for Aaron Burr’s cheap pick up lines. The “pardon me” look she gives him when he says “Excuse me, miss, I know it’s not funny. But your perfume smells like your daddy’s got money.” is just beautiful

She goes on to deliver the best lines of the song:

I’ve been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine.
So men say that I’m intense or I’m insane.
You want a revolution? I want a revelation
So listen to my declaration:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident
That all men are created equal”
And when I meet Thomas Jefferson,
I’m ‘a compel him to include women in the sequel! (Work!)

“Farmer Refuted”

This is a fun little segment where Hamilton (encouraged by Laurens, Lafayette and Mulligan and discouraged by Burr) confronts Samuel Seabury, a Bishop of the Episcopalian church and noted British loyalist. Here’s it’s condensed to Seabury giving a public speech condemning the revolutionaries and congress.

What makes this scene fun is the overlapping dialog and Hamilton basically dunking on this poor sod in public.

It also has some fun moments involving Hamilton’s fellow revolutionaries. Mulligan’s “man, tear this dude apart” is always funny and illustrates how Onaodowan makes the most of even a throw away line to get a laugh.

The friction between Burr and Lafayette is furthered in a fun subtle bit after Burr tells Alexander “Let him be” while backing Hamilton off only for Lafayette to quietly nudge Alexander back towards Seabury. It’s a small moment, that I think highlights why the concert film adds something to the play. For an audience member, it could be very easy to miss the small moments, but the film captures them and allows space for the subtleties as well as the big and broad moments.

This scene kind of exemplifies the “postage stamp” analogy earlier and how the show condenses and dramatizes material to fit into the structure of a musical. Samuel Seabury wrote a number of essays (including “Free Thoughts on the Proceeding of the Continental Congress” which is name dropped as the piece he is orating in this scene) denouncing revolutionaries and the growing appetite for independence. He wrote the pieces under the pseudonym A.W. Farmer (A Westchester Farmer). Alexander Hamilton would go on to write counter arguments to these various pieces, “The Farmer Refuted” being the final response.

If your first thought on reading that was “it seems like Hamilton is throwing as many $10 words (fittingly) at Seabury to show he can run rhetorical circles around him”…he kind of was. Hamilton, interrupting a public oration and pantsing Seabury by challenging and mocking him is basically a dramatization of something that happened mostly on the page. It’s just more fun to see a windbag get taken down a notch in real time.

Take the following paragraph for example. I’ve bolded my translations.

You have not even imposed the laborious task of pursuing you through a labyrinth of subtilty. (I’m playing on easy mode here) You have not had ability sufficient, however violent your efforts, to try the depths of sophistry; but have barely skimmed along its surface. (Your loudness is only eclipsed by your dumbness) I should, almost, deem the animadversions ($10 word…makin’ it rain Hamiltons), I am going to make, unnecessary (You’re really not worth my time…), were it not (…buuuut…), that, without them, you might exult in a fancied victory, and arrogate to yourself imaginary trophies (…you might walk away from this exchange feeling like you aren’t a drooling simpleton and I can’t have that).

That’s what Hamilton leads off with. Basically in the most verbose way you could say it…

Having recently watched The Last Dance about the Chicago Bulls final season with their Michael Jordan led dynasty intact, I was struck by a story Michael Jordan told where a player from another team said “great game” to him after winning and Jordan took great offense to it. By the way, if you play the drinking game where you take a shot every time Jordan says “I took that personally”…you will die. Jordan stewed about it, and the next game they played absolutely humiliated this poor guy at every turn.

It was later revealed Jordan had invented the “good game” story to motivate himself.

Not sure why I thought of that connection, but it seemed appropriate for “The Farmer Refuted”.

“You’ll Be Back”

Seeing the lead of Netflix’s Mindhunter (Jonathan Groff), playing the deliriously insane King George III resulted in a level of cultural whiplash on my part that I’m still recovering from.

King George is an interesting presence in the play, as he’s a deliciously insane villain that gives us someone to boo and hiss at, unreservedly. His position as snarky, vindictive heckler of the American revolution has the duel effect of putting the audience in the shoes of the revolutionaries trying to do the seemingly impossible as well as providing motivation for us to go “Fuck that guy! Go revolution!”

In a show filled with complex antagonists like Burr, Madison and Jefferson, King George III is a different kind of villain.

A pro wrestling kind of villain.

Here is a larger than life villain (“a heel”) who is so deliciously over the top that he pushes the villainy into that irreverent campy stratosphere pro wrestling exists within. His whole look is the definition of “extra”, his personality is dialed up to 11 and he’s not afraid to let the spittle fly. He’s a character whose job it is to show up, antagonize the audience and get us behind the good guys (aka the “babyfaces”) and wanting them to succeed.

He also makes a long drawn out entrance, complete with announcement of his arrival and garish entrance attire he later has to remove in order to do anything. (Fun fact: the crown was so heavy that while wearing it, Jonathan Groff couldn’t move so King George is always standing still while wearing it).

It all sounds oddly familiar…

This was one of the numbers that really took off when the concert film dropped. It’s easy to see why. It’s a fairly straightforward song to sing along to, with just one singer and no overlapping spoken bits. Groff letting his spittle fly like Matthew Lillard in Scream, added a level of “ewww” to an already fun villain performance. (Sidenote: Watching this show during a pandemic has many awkward moments where people sing in very close proximity to each other.)

What makes King George’s songs so effective are the intimate nature of them and the strength of the performance. Groff can’t move around so his voice, tone and facial expressions have to do a lot of the heavy lifting. Groff manages to really sell the madness of King George by his ability to alternate between singing merrily and then with a snapping turn of his head and an uncomfortable glare slip into “abusive psychopath” mode with ease while mostly keeping his jaunty showtune delivery.

Allow me a sidebar to talk about King George III for a moment.

Modern historians suspect that King George’s erratic behavior and mood swings were likely the result of an undiagnosed mood disorder (he may have been Bipolar) or a disease called Porphyria which likely contributed to his “madness”. Either way, “The Madness of King George” as a concept in the public consciousness took on a life of it’s own after the American Revolution, very much in a Richard III sort of way I had mentioned above where his faults became so exaggerated by his political enemies to the point where it’s hard to separate the truth from the mythology. While there was certainly ample accounts of his declining mental faculties (rambling gibberish for hours at a time, foaming at the mouth, and shaking a branch of a tree thinking it was the King of Prussia’s hand for example), sorting out how much of the image of George as a raving madman was true and how much of it was post-hoc character assassination differs depending on the source and the time period. More modern historians tend to take a more sympathetic view of George III’s mental state as a mentally ill man who also had faults – he was pro-slavery for one and while traits like racism and cruelty can be weaponized by mental illness, the jury is out on whether they can be blamed on mental illness.

Modern ideas of mental health awareness certainly cast his “madness” in a slightly different light as someone dealing with an illness that he and his doctors didn’t understand. The changing public perception of King George is a good example of how our views of history get more complicated the more we learn. I’m not exactly reaching for a violin to play a sad song for an absurdly wealthy monarch who lived into his 80’s, during a time when life expectancy was considerably shorter for those with less resources. I suppose it piques my curiosity about how much of history revolves around ideas we understand better today (mental illness, degenerative brain diseases, addiction and substance abuse, neurodivergent conditions, etc) that used to be mostly invisible and written off with crude simplistic descriptors for issues much more complex. Things that we just didn’t understand yet.

Before I continue discussing King George as portrayed in Hamilton (as a fictional villainous construct played largely for laughs in a similarly reductive way), I did want to acknowledge that while the actual historical figure may be long gone, his kind mental decline still largely affects people today, and that one of the ways we can learn from history is in re-framing how we think about what we know. To those seeing a relative battling similar illnesses, I can understand how poking fun at a man who has been dead for hundreds of years can still touch on very real things and before I go on, I just wanted to acknowledge that.

King George’s “madness” is played here in ways both broad and subtle. On the “play to the back row” side of things, Groff’s still body language contrasts with the jaunty showtune he’s singing, punctuated by the nonsense chorus of “Da-da-da-da-da, -da-da-da-dee-da-da….” basically communicate someone who is not all there and is just idly singing to themselves.

In fact, I think of King George’s bits in the play as manifestations of his frame of mind and losing his grip on reality. My read on it is this is George stewing in his own mind about those continental ingrates and fantasizing about all the failing they are going to do without him. It’s the saltiest “FINE GO AHEAD! I DON’T EVEN WANT YOU HERE!” possible. However, the erratic thought patterns and dipping in and out of vacant stares illustrates his fluctuating lucidity where he oscillates between laser focused and absent.

Groff’s holding of his often vacant gaze and at points staring off into space creates an uncomfortable feeling. People are generally freaked out when someone makes unbroken eye contact, and Groff uses that effectively to make him seem eerily threatening even when he’s singing happily. This is especially true when the camera is used to put us in the shoes of the audience person being glared at.

I also absolutely love the bit in the song where George calls upon the dancers to back him up (more like commands them to), but they all do the minimalist pose and somehow do less dancing than he does. It’s no coincidence that the revolutionaries sing in “new world” styles like R&B, Rock, Soul and Hip Hop while George is deliberately in the “old world” of orchestral based showtunes. The contrast is what makes this joke land. The dance troupe are often used to fill out background scenes and bring them to life with incredibly intricate and energetic choreography, so summoning these dancers to come out and NOT dance is a brilliant subversion of that expectation.

It also fits perfectly with the character archetype of the mercurial Mad King, because nobody is allowed to upstage them. Even if the King calls you up to dance, you do it exactly as he does, and no more. Showing up a mad king in public is how a person quickly winds up a foot shorter.

If I were putting together a list of the top five songs in this play (and I’ll probably do so at the end), this one is definitely a contender. It’s a masterwork on how to maximize every line, every look and every second of stage time to create a memorable character.

As a final observation on this one, I also need to make a shout out to the camera framing of George’s walk up during the song. The framing captures him from below as he menacingly walks toward the camera, eyes locked dead ahead. The way the lights slowly drop and George gradually fills the frame is a great villain framing.

“Right Hand Man”

And now we meet the other George of the story. In an interesting bit of symmetry, our introduction to George Washington (played by Christopher Jackson) mirrors that of King George in some interesting ways. Not just because one happens right after the other but because they are both introduced in ways that allow their legends to precede them.

Washington’s arrival is also heralded very much in the larger than life style of a wrestler or prizefighter being introduced in an over the top manner before stepping into a ring.

Company: Here comes the Gen-er-al!
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen!
Company: Here comes the Gen-er-al!
Announcer: The moment you’ve been waiting for!
Company: Here comes the Gen-er-al!
Announcer: The Pride of Mount Vernon!
Company: Here comes the Gen-er-al!
Announcer: GEORGE WASHINGTON!

It is a goosebumps inducing moment that somehow manages to re-frame the introduction of perhaps the most important historical figure of the story (second only to King George III, but the bad guy usually enters the ring first) in an interesting, modern way.

This song has a lot of business to accomplish and it manages to condense several key plot points into a four minute span.

Washington is introduced with a bombastic intro, but then addresses us as he lays out his frustrations and doubts as to how the war effort his going. Unlike King George who is turned up to 11, Washington is introduced as the legend but immediately dialed in to humanize him. Washington acknowledges that his qualities have been exaggerated by saying:

Can I be real a second?
For just a millisecond?
Let down my guard and tell the people how I feel a second?
Now I’m the model of a modern major general
The venerated Virginian veteran whose men are all
Lining up, to put me up on a pedestal
Writin’ letters to relatives
Embellishin’ my elegance and eloquence

This passage is probably one of the best bits of characterization in the whole play. As an audience in 2020, we’ve all grown up in the shadow of a world where Washington and the rebellion succeeded. History has a way of seeming obvious in hindsight, so in order to invest in a story we all know the end of, Washington’s state of mind needed to be re-framed which is what this scene does. It brings Washington into the story as the larger than life figure, full of swagger and gravitas, barking encouragement and orders to his troops, only to immediately pull the curtain back. Introducing GW as this larger than life hero kicking open the doors bombastically all full of swagger and confidence, only to immediately have him acknowledge to the audience that he’s really scared, stressed out and in way over his head but doing the best he can is a refreshingly human way of showing that he wasn’t the legend yet. He was a tobacco farmer who found himself leading a rag tag army and was trying to do his best to not fuck it all up and get everybody killed.

During a volley of cannon fire (portrayed by the company flying around like debris) Hamilton and Mulligan steal British cannons to turn the tide. Aaron Burr meets Washington and offers his service as an advisor. Hamilton also meets Washington and Burr is dismissed – furthering the tension and bitterness in Burr.

When Washington asks Hamilton why he keeps turning down other job offers, we glimpses of Hamilton’s desperation to make something of himself. Washington makes the assessment that Hamilton sees dying as a martyr on the battlefield as his future and Hamilton confirms it.

In what becomes a repeated rhetorical device, Washington says “Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder.”

Hamilton agrees to become Washington’s aide de camp (basically a personal assistant/advisor) and they immediately get to work as Hamilton recommends his friends Laurens, Lafayette and Mulligan for service.

I’d like to talk about Christopher Jackson for a moment. Jackson has a tough job playing a character like Washington. You need an actor who can, when needed, play the legend and the statesman however, you also need someone who can be likable and feel real in a very unreal setting. I think Jackson manages to thread that needle masterfully.

As mentioned in part one, Jackson standing taller than his cast mates helps to symbolically communicate Washington’s stature. Part of what makes Hamilton work as a piece of art rooted in the past, that still manages to say something to a modern audience is the idea of casting in spirit, if not appearance.

Trying to imagine Washington played by a more historically accurate actor would feel somewhat diminishing. Jackson manages to capture the legacy and the long shadow he casts in his performance and presence.

I’ve got more to say about Washington down the line but for now I’ll just say this is probably the best character introduction in the show.

Boom!

“A Winter’s Ball”

So this is a quick one. A funky little interstitial bit that talks about Hamilton and Burr having one thing in common: they are both hornier than an orchestra pit.

So the idea of Alexander Hamilton being a carouser and ladies man has been disputed by historians. Mostly it seems his reputation as such became accepted AFTER the sex scandal that destroyed his reputation when his nemesis Thomas Jefferson took great pleasure in calling him a whoremonger and scoundrel.

Accepting that it may have been a creative decision, rather than a historically accurate one, I go back and forth on whether or not this depiction as a horndog adds or detracts from the drama of how the story unfolds.

I think where I land on it is that based on the Maria Reynolds affair, Miranda and Co may have erred on the side of Alexander not so much falling from grace, but returning to old habits as a way to keep him sympathetic. Kind of an “I was up front about it” thing in order to ease the audience into his eventual choices.

Overall, this isn’t one of my favourite bits. It’s a bit gross when Burr and Hamilton rap about finding ladies to deflower and it’s generally one I tend to skip when going through the soundtrack.

There is the one funny bit where Hamilton, Burr and Laurens skip along to the beat an go “Hey! Hey! Hey!” to the front row like dorky fratboys trying to score at last call. I’ll admit, that part is kinda fun.

“Helpless”

Yes! The ladies are back.

Another fun R&B girl group throwback that makes great use of the harmony of the Schuyler sisters.

This is the the song where Alexander meets Eliza (after Angelica makes the introduction) and covers their courtship from meeting to engagement to marriage.

Interestingly, it was younger sister Peggy (who had a “little sister” relationship with Alexander where she would confide in him and seek his advice) who tipped off Eliza that Alexander had a thing for her.

One thing the filmed version of the play does in this song (that the soundtrack doesn’t) is to provide some nice little non verbal bits, such as the look Eliza gives when Angelica says “I’ll leave you to it” and the little celebratory pelvic thrust happy dance Alexander does when he gets Phillip Schuyler’s permission to marry Eliza (and Phillip looks away for a moment).

This is one of the songs where Lin-Manuel Miranda shows what he brings to Alexander Hamilton and it all has to do with the fact that his best attributes are his likability and his expressive face. In a play where you have a cast of belters who can sing to the back row, Miranda is a camera actor whose vocal range may not reach those levels but can sell more subtle things with a look, a smirk or a simple gesture.

When talking about the non verbal bits, I also have to shout out Okierete Onaodowan who has a fun little comic bit where he strides confidently up to the front row and throws rose petals out.

And finally I need to mention the exchange:

Eliza: Laughing at my sister, ’cause she want to form a harem.
Angelica: I’m just saying if you really love me you would share him.

Apparently, that was based on a real line in the sister’s correspondence. Which leads me to…

“Satisfied”

Remember that top five songs list I was generating in my head? This is one of them. The other 4 are gonna have to fight it out, but this one is automatic top five.

Satisfied is Renee Elise Goldsberry’s big song, and she absolutely floors me every time. The song is about Angelica Schuyler giving a toast to the Bride and Groom and reflecting on what might have been if she hadn’t written off Alexander so quickly.

This is one of those areas where dramatic license came in, as Lin-Manuel Miranda said that even though Angelica was already married when she met Alexander, it was more dramatically interesting if she wasn’t and she regrets passing him over.

There was some speculation that Alexander and Angelica had an affair, due to their flirtatious writings, however most historians agree that wasn’t likely due to the fact that Angelica lived in London during most of Alexander and Eliza’s marriage.

One other change for dramatic purposes I’ll lump into the “out of sight, out of mind” category of condensing the story to characters we know. Much like Eliza and Alexander’s other 7 children we never hear about, the play whittles down the Schuyler brood to only focus on the characters directly involved, and makes cuts accordingly. In the play, we’re only made aware of 3 Schuyler sisters, but in reality there were other siblings, including older brothers. However, dramatically it makes more sense for Angelica to look at her status as the eldest sister and heir to the Schuyler legacy when sizing up Alexander for a match.

I’m a girl in a world in which\
My only job is to marry rich.
My father has no sons so\
I’m the one\
Who has to social climb for one.
So I’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in\
New York City is insidious.

And Alexander is penniless\
Ha, that doesn’t mean I want him any less.

What I really love about this song is that it takes you on a complete journey. Angelica gets her own little story arc that plays out here all within her own thoughts. She begins the toast, at which point we get taken back through a trippy flashback scene rewinding to some of the events that we saw in “Helpless”. Angelica admits that she wrote off Alexander too quickly upon first meeting (partly due to his woeful financial situation, partly due to his social climbing tendencies and partly due to his evasiveness about his family) and introduces him to Eliza. She acknowledges that she still carries a flame for him, and that Eliza would give him up if she asked. Ultimately Angelica decides she could never hurt Eliza and she’d rather her sister be happy, and still have Alexander in her life as a brother in law.

By the time Angelica goes through the flashback, and the toast resumes, she delivers a soaring endorsement of their union in one of the most triumphant moments you will find in this show.

If you have not seen this song performed, seek it out. If you have, watch it again. I could list off all the great lines and callbacks here but that would be dipping into Chris Farley Show territory and I couldn’t do it justice.

“The Story Of Tonight (Reprise)”

A reprise of “The Story of Tonight” where we check in with our quartet of newly anointed officers (“raise a glass to the four us us, the newly not poor of us”) celebrating their fortunes and Alexander’s marriage.

Best lines (sung by John Laurens with responses from Mulligan and Lafayette):

I may not live to see our glory (I may not live to see our glory)/
But I’ve seen wonders great and small (I’ve seen wonders great and small)/
Cuz if the tomcat can get married (If the tomcat can get married)/
There’s hope for our ass after all!

Burr shows up and offers his congratulations to Alexander. The 3 knuckleheads press Burr on his secret love interest (Lafayette’s delivery of “you are the worst, Burr” kills me) and Burr tells Alexander he couldn’t bring her because she is married.

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s delivery of “Oh, shit.” when Burr tells Alexander his lover is married to a British officer is funny. One constant in the play is that LMM nails the jokes.

Alexander presses Burr to pursue his love and asks what he’s waiting for, which leads us into…

“Wait For It”

One of two “villain songs” in the play that flesh out Aaron Burr. Burr’s depiction as a reflection of Alexander (either by comparison or contrast) is a running theme in his songs.

“Wait For It” is a song where Burr draws comparisons and contrasts to Hamilton. Both were orphaned at young ages and forced to make their way in the world, both were driven by ambition to rise above their meager lots in life.

In this song we get to see things from Burr’s perspective. I had mentioned earlier that Burr’s characterization can sometimes be a little one dimensional and on the nose up to this point. Not after this song, though. This song re-frames his indecisive, tentative nature as one of a shrewd operator picking his spots.

“Wait For It” has a key line that explains Burr in the “postage stamp” way. “I am the one thing in life I can control.” This frames his inaction as a matter of discipline and survival, rather than cowardice. This one line gives him a personality profile that takes him out of being simply a one dimension, oppositional reflection of Alexander Hamilton and highlights the key personality clashes that bring them into conflict.

Both Burr and Hamilton have a point in how they approach things. Their personality traits can be seen positively or negatively. Hamilton’s relentless drive and uncompromising nature leads him to make enemies and act recklessly (two things that would be key factors in his eventual downfall). Burr’s passivity might be shrewd on a social climbing level, but it makes him seem unprincipled. Burr’s philosophy of “Wait For It” also provides a bit of ironic foreshadowing that leads to his eventual disgrace, but we’ll get there in due time.

Burr mentions in the song that Hamilton has nothing to lose, while Burr has a family legacy to consider. I think that part is crucial to understanding their differences in approach. In Hamilton’s mind, the only legacy that matters is the one he is able to create because he has no family history to speak of. Burr feels the weight of history judging him, of carrying on his family legacy (even if that pressure is only in his own mind) and a reluctance to risk it.

This provides an interesting contrast into how both men deal with the chaos of life. Hamilton dives head first into chaos, battling it relentlessly at every turn as if trying to tame it and bend it to his will. Hamilton’s experience in the Caribbean, losing everything to a hurricane and moving the people around him with his words to the point where they took up a collection to send him off to New York to go to school served as a blueprint (for better and worse) for how he approaches his life. Burr understands that chaos is a beast that cannot be tamed and the only thing one has actual control over is their own actions.

I can see the value and the pitfalls in both perspectives. Without some form of risk assessment and compromise, drive and stubbornness can easily become self defeating. Conversely, without passion and ideals, shrewdness for it’s own sake becomes nothing more than a hollow quest for power.

“Stay Alive”

This song is kind of the low point of the first act. Not in terms of content, but in terms of the desperate conditions revolutionaries find themselves in. As such, the song is full of eerie musical elements. A tingling piano hook (oddly reminiscent of John Carpenter’s iconic Halloween theme) ushers us into the song and musically it all has a very spy movie, intrigue and espionage feel to it, briefly interrupted by a battle scene (where “Everyone attack! Retreat! Attack! Retreat!” is used as a fun bit of call and answer) where the volume and energy picks up.

Provisions are scarce:

Hamilton: Congress writes, “George, attack the British forces.”
I shoot back, we have resorted to eating our horses.
Local merchants deny us equipment, assistance.
They only take British money, so sing a song of sixpence.

Washington promotes Charles Lee to command, only for Lee to “[shit] the bed at the Battle of Monmouth“.

Charles Lee is an interesting figure. Lee’s depiction in Hamilton is generally in line with his accepted legacy as a coward, an incompetent commander and a traitor. Like most of the history contained within Hamilton, it’s largely filtered through a pro Hamilton (ergo pro Washington) lens. The thing I find interesting is that Lee is a good example of what happens when someone picks the wrong side in a battle.

Lee in many ways represents kind of the cautionary tale of what Burr has been trying to tell Alexander Hamilton. Lee was a brash, headstrong figure who also had a tendency to make enemies and create animosity due to his ego and his assumption that he knew better. The problem with Lee is, his rival was George Washington. When Washington not only went on to win the war, but also become first President…well let’s just say it really must have sucked to be Charles Lee who suddenly found himself with a very powerful enemy.

Thinking about Lee’s place in history, it’s easy to see how Alexander Hamilton could have found himself on the wrong side of history, had he not lucked out and found himself under Washington’s protection as his right hand man.

The real tale of the Battle of Monmouth and Lee’s unauthorized retreat are much murkier. Lee was re-instated as second in command after being freed from a 16 month stint as a prisoner of the British (we’ll get back to that in a minute) and immediately found himself at odds with Washington who he felt was ill equipped to lead the Continental army.

Contrary to the play, it was Lafayette who initially led the battalion (after Lee passed, feeling such a small army to command was below his status) and basically pushed them out ahead of their supply lines and exhausted them. Lee took over and during the Battle of Monmouth, once it became clear that his plan was falling apart, called for a retreat without informing his subordinates (or Washington) of his plan to do so.

According to Lee, his action was to spare his troops from dying needlessly in a battle they could not win. Washington didn’t buy it and took Lee’s retreat as a sign of disrespect (Lee had vocally opposed the plan). Lee was relieved of duty and eventually court-martialed. Lee was accused on 3 charges (disobeying direct orders by not attacking the morning he was ordered to, ordering a retreat and of disrespect) and was suspended from the army for a year which is suspected to be a tacit admission that the charges beyond “disrespect” didn’t hold up based on such a light sentence. Those in Washington’s circle (including Hamilton) took particular glee in painting Lee as a traitor.

When Lee returned to service after his sentence, he continued to carry his grudge against Washington, loudly insulting him which led to Lee’s duel with John Laurens which is depicted in the next song.

Sidenote: And what about the thing I mentioned above about him being remembered as a traitor? Well, 70 or so years after Charles Lee’s death (mid 1850’s) a manuscript was discovered that Lee had written while in custody of the British as a prisoner of war, which detailed strategies for how the British Crown might go about putting down the rebellion. While it can certainly be argued the manuscript was written under the duress of being a prisoner, the discovery of it basically sealed Charles Lee’s fate in history as a traitor.

Basically the moral of the Charles Lee story is if you have a nemesis…make sure they don’t go on to become the first President of the United States.

Also of note, Hamilton tells Laurens “John, do not throw away your shot.” making that 2 uses of his catchphrase. The moment does evoke a bit of romantic subtext, as a bit of meaningful eye contact passes between them. There was speculation that Hamilton and Laurens had a “thing” due to Laurens having a reputation in his younger days of playing on both teams.

While the general consensus seems to be that they were very good friends, with a more affectionate relationship than men of their time, there doesn’t seem to be much supporting their relationship as a romantic or sexual one.

As he will later do with the Maria Reynold’s affair, (and some of the conflicting historical accounts therein) Miranda and Ramos, play to it just enough so that the subtext is there, but not enough to definitively make it text.

“Ten Duel Commandments”

As someone who appreciates learning how processes work, I appreciate this song “Dueling For Dummies”.

I don’t have a whole lot to say about this one as it’s pretty straightforward. It works to set up the rules and expectations for duels in order to subvert them in Act II. It’s mostly exposition but at least it’s interesting exposition.

This scene contains one of my favourite Hamilton and Burr moments where they meet as the seconds for Laurens and Lee (Burr wasn’t actually there for this duel…it was some other jabroni who doesn’t appear in this play…out of sight out of mind). This moment makes great use of the rotating stage, in a nice bit of visual metaphor showing Hamilton and Burr always circling around each other, always locked in opposition even when standing still.

Hamilton’s arrogant smirk when the two go back and forth highlights that even if he’s the “villain” of the play, Burr isn’t always wrong. Duels are dumb and immature (foreshadowing…) and Hamilton and Laurens insistence on risking lives over this issue is boneheaded. Burr plays the cooler head, trying to deescalate until it becomes clear that the other three men involved aren’t willing to back down. I’ll get into it more in Act II, but Burr’s history with Alexander Hamilton in duels, went beyond just the one between the two of them.

This leads me into the next part…

“Meet Me Inside”

This seems like an exposition scene, but in thinking about the duel with Lee, I think “Meet Me Inside” gives an interesting glimpse into the flawed side of Hamilton. After Charles Lee is wounded in the duel, Washington reprimands Hamilton privately.

Washington reprimands Hamilton for stirring up trouble within the ranks, stepping in to defend Washington’s name despite being told not to, and tells Alexander that he’s more valuable as Washington’s right hand conducting official correspondence than he is dead on a battlefield.

During all of this, Alexander adopts the eye rolling body language of a kid being called into the principal’s office, responding with snarky comebacks each time (“You’re right sir. John should have shot him in the mouth, that woulda shut him up.”)

Hamilton finally blows up at Washington, getting in his face and yelling “CALL ME “SON” ONE MORE TIME!”. It’s a jarring moment to see Alexander be so hostile to a man he’s only shown respect for up until this moment.

I was confused by this moment the first few times I watched it. Initially, I figured it was a way to illustrate some father figure issues (eg – him not liking to be called “son” due to his own father’s abandonment), but then the real history put an interesting context to it as well as the previous duel.

The real Alexander Hamilton basically threatened to resign if he didn’t get command of his own troops. As a result, Washington called the childish bluff and Hamilton was relieved of duty.

What I found interesting about this scene after learning the background, was that Hamilton’s body language during the duel and his obstinate attitude during Washington’s reprimand make sense when you look at it through the lens of a kid acting out trying to get attention. He knows he’s going to get in trouble for this, he’s annoyed at being passed over for command, and the whole duel was to get Washington’s attention.

It’s in little moments like these where Lin-Manuel Miranda’s performance shines. Alexander Hamilton can be a cocky little shit and his arrogance is on full display here.

“That Would Be Enough”

Finally, Phillipa Soo can get some love here.

The role of Eliza Hamilton could have easily been a cliched “suffering spouse” role. Indeed for the first half that is mostly it. Eliza consoles Alexander in this song, who is dejected after being sent home by Washington. She is pregnant and tells him she had written to Washington a month ago asking for Alexander to come home. It’s a very sweet song, where Eliza tells Alexander that he need not obsessively pursue accolades and titles on her account. That they could have a happy simple life and “that would be enough”.

The song remixes the lines, “look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now” from “The Schuyler Sisters” from the jubilant feel it originally had, into a sadder yet still hopeful context.

On it’s own, this song is a nice bit of story and character development for Eliza. And it’s performed nicely. It’s one of those songs that I don’t have much more to say because it’s just…good, straightforward and well done.

This song has a lot of callback symmetry with a song in Act II (“Quiet Uptown”), but we’ll get to that in the next part…

That’s kinda it for this one. Welcome to the Chris Farley Show everyone. D’you remember when Phillipa Soo sang a great song in Hamilton? That was awesome.

“Guns and Ships”

EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR AMERICA’S FAVOURITE FIGHTIN’ FRENCHMAN!

So this is a quick one, but Daveed Diggs gets to show off his starbursting charisma and rapid fire rapping skills here (all in a French accent…not easy to do).

Lafayette comes through for the revolutionaries after appealing to the French crown for more help. Lafayette tells Washington they need Hamilton back, as he’s fluent in French and will be needed to coordinate with the new troops.

Hearing the name “Rochambeau” and not thinking of the South Park “game” where the boys kick each other in the nuts until one falls down was a bit jarring.

What a weird cultural legacy to have.

The words of this play ring true. You have no control. Who lives. Who dies. Who tells your story.

“History Has It’s Eyes On You”

This is a pretty short and simple scene that shows the ascendance of Alexander Hamilton, as he is finally given command, and a solemn warning from George Washington that from this moment on “history has it’s eye on you”.

Let’s talk about George Washington a bit.

I’ve praised Christopher Jackson’s commanding portrayal of Washington (and will likely continue to do so…dude’s awesome), while grappling with the knowledge that the real George Washington was much more complex (dude was not awesome in many ways).

Let’s not equivocate here, George Washington owned slaves. In his pre-war days he was the picture of ass backwards, racist, southern plantation owner. He happily participated in the shame that continues to have effect to this very day and he held every bit the regressive attitudes toward Black people that wouldn’t be out of place on a Fox News broadcast or at a Trump rally.

Had he lived longer, perhaps Washington may have turned full opponent of slavery (his views were changing on it due to his close friendships with Hamilton and Lafayette) but as it was, Washington freed his slaves in his will. Which, is really a dick move. “You can be free only once you can no longer be of use to me, personally.”

Still puts him ahead of Thomas Jefferson who never even bothered doing that.

Christopher Jackson’s portrayal is as much a fictional creation as any in this play. While the real Washington was a short, white, plantation owner with dentures made from sheep teeth (hence why he rarely smiled), Jackson embodies the idea of leadership as we would like it to be. An ideal, more than a person.

Is Hamilton’s Washington sanitized? Absolutely. Is Christopher Jackson’s portrayal of steady, dignified leadership a welcome departure from the calamity of the past 4 years? I would suggest it is. In much the same way Martin Sheen’s Josiah Bartlett provided much refuge from the monstrosity of the George W. Bush administration, the fictional Washington scratches that same itch. Sometimes, in the absence of good or even benign leadership, we turn to pop culture to provide a model for it.

“Yorktown (The World Turns Upside Down)”

Yorktown is a banger. This is the song where the mixtape goes full folk rock, bringing in electric guitars, violins and is the most energetic uptempo song in the show (second perhaps only to Daveed Diggs “What Did I Miss” in Act II).

The turning point in the War of Independence, Hamilton assumes command of his troops and they enact a plan to move silently in the night and take the British by surprise.

The thing I want to talk about is one of the best reveals in the whole play. Hercules Mulligan is revealed to have been spying on the British officers while working in New York as a tailor. Okierete Onaodowan’s gleeful performance of this big damn hero moment is so much fun that it’s one of favourite parts of the entire play.

One of the cool things about Hamilton is it shines a spotlight on some peripheral historical figures who may not otherwise be known about. Hercules Mulligan didn’t have the volumes of personal writings left behind that Alexander Hamilton did to chronicle his life so he remains a largely mysterious figure. What is known about him makes for one hell of a spy thriller in it’s own right.

Mulligan worked as a tailor in New York, and he was the man who many British officers would order their uniforms from. His personal charisma and good humour allowed him to maintain cover while among British officers, all the while he would gather clues about troop movements and plans based on uniform orders. As such Mulligan would be able to determine when significant strikes were being planned and where based on when the uniforms were needed and where they were to be sent to.

Mulligan worked with his slave/accomplice Cato – who was a Black Patriot and functioned as Mulligan’s accomplice for smuggling information through the south to the revolutionaries under the guise of delivering Mulligan’s goods. Cato was basically able to move through British territory without raising suspicion. The clandestine partnership between Hercules and Cato had the side effect of not leaving a lot of documentation behind (because paper trails are bad for spying) so we don’t know a lot about their arrangement.

While much attention is given to Alexander Hamilton’s support of the abolitionist movement, it was living with the Mulligan family (after he first arrived in New York) that changed Hamilton into the outspoken revolutionary he would become. The more I’ve learned about Hercules Mulligan, the more I’m intrigued by him as a largely unknown architect of America in general. In a “butterfly effect” kind of way, Mulligan was one of the most crucial figures of the creation of the United States.

Mulligan’s contributions weren’t just limited to helping Alexander Hamilton turn his efforts toward the revolutionary cause, he also had a much more direct affect on the creation of America. Using his position as a tailor for the British army, Hercules likely saved George Washington’s life at least 2 known occasions. Running a tailor shop that catered to British officers (who liked to slug back wine during the fittings) Mulligan was able to gather that a meeting Washington was scheduled to attend had been found out by the British and that they were planning an ambush. Mulligan sent word to Alexander Hamilton (likely via Cato) and the planned meeting was changed.

A second instance occurred when Washington was making the trip to meet with French commander Rochambeau (or as he’s better known: Ol’ Kick In The Nuts) in order to coordinate their future troop movements. If that meeting had been stopped or ambushed, it’s highly likely the revolutionary war effort would have fallen apart and there would be no United States of America today.

The embedded video above by The History Guy (which I’ll be cribbing from extensively) goes into greater detail on the life of Mulligan and I highly recommend it if you’re interested in learning more. This is a guy I’d love to see a spy movie about. Since details of Mulligan’s life are sparse, there’s a lot of room for creative interpretation there, but what is known makes for a pretty thrilling story, as Mulligan and Cato were both arrested at various times on suspicion of spying and they both bravely risked everything for independence.

The thing I find interesting about Hercules Mulligan in terms of his place in history, is that as Alexander Hamilton’s history has grown more complicated over the past decade (partially due to the economic system he championed being warped into the very sort of caste system of disparate wealth America was trying to get out from under), Hercules Mulligan has turned out to be a more relevant figure than ever in the age of grassroots organizing and movements such as Black Lives Matter.

You want to talk about tearing down statues? Mulligan did that. He and his fellow Sons of Liberty tore down a statue of King George III in July of 1776 and melted it down into ammunition for the Continental army. Nothing says “fuck you!” like bullets made out of a facsimile of your King.

Protests in the streets? Grass roots organizing? Clashes with armed authority figures? Mulligan did all that too. After the passage of the Quartering Act (requiring colonies to pay for barracks housing British troops, effectively turning the colonies into an occupied police state) the Sons of Liberty declared the British troops invaders and that any troops caught patrolling the city would be apprehended. When the British troops stationed in the barracks arrived at the courthouse to retrieve their comrades, they were met with a throng of colonists who had been roused and gathered by Hercules Mulligan. This kicked of a series of clashes between the unarmed colonists and British troops (wielding muskets with bayonets) which only served to further stoke the fires of revolution. Six weeks later the more infamous Boston Massacre would cause the whole thing to finally boil over into an uprising.

Side Note: Of course, history being the absolute clusterfuck it is, the Quartering Act is a little more complicated than the heavily Americanized version would portray. The Act was put into place largely as a result of The Seven Years War, which was kicked off when the American colonists kept going into French colonies and instigating conflicts. The Crown did not want another costly war with France, but got dragged into one and the Quartering Act was partly to make the colonies pay their share of the cost for the war they started, that Britain wanted nothing to do with. History is wacky.

One of the pleasures of doing this deep dive into Hamilton not only as a play, but as a retelling of an overlooked bit of history has been learning about peripheral figures like Hercules Mulligan. Mulligan serves in many respects as a reminder that when it comes to history, there’s nothing new under the sun. If you look hard enough, you’ll find those who are willing to push against the tides of injustice in just about any time period.

If nothing else comes out of the popularity of Hamilton, elevating the names of unsung figures like Mulligan, Angelica Schuyler and Eliza Hamilton (who I’ll talk about in Act II) who wouldn’t normally get attention isn’t a bad outcome. While historical events may be settled long ago, what we take from that history evolves and continues to change.

“What Comes Next?”

King George is back and he’s feelin’ a little salty about the whole Yorktown surrender – losing the colonies thing.

This is a much shorter song than “You’ll Be Back”, but it has one very key significance to the play in that the whole question underpinning the song (“You’ve won your independence, now what?”) sets the new course the rest of the play will chart as this is the moment Hamilton switches from the freewheeling revolutionary tale of scrappy underdog good guys vs largely faceless (minus King George) bad guys, to the darker and more shades of gray story of the complexities of governance, the conflicting personalities and ideologies involved and the realities and burdens that come with being in charge.

In some of the bonus content interviews, Lin-Manuel Miranda was asked about how the show had changed since it’s initial run. He mentioned how the text of the show hadn’t changed since it hit broadway in 2015, but pointed out this song as one that played to a much more muted reaction in London as a post Brexit vote UK was facing an increasingly uncertain future as the deadline grew closer.

“Dear Theodosia”

This one is presented as a duet between Burr and Hamilton as the two new fathers sing a lullaby to their daughter (Theodosia) and son (Phillip) respectively. This one serves as kind of a cooldown, quiet moment before the Act I finale and intermission.

Like many of the songs Burr is central to, comparisons and contrasts with Hamilton remain a running theme. In this case, both find common ground in wanting to create a better world for their children.

One interesting bit of foreshadowing in this song involves the repetition of the phrase “you’ll blow us all away” by both characters.

It’s interesting not only from a structural perspective (the phrase will later be the name of a song Phillip sings called “Blow Us All Away”), but also marks the turning point increasingly evoking guns as a thematic element, foreshadowing Hamilton’s eventual fate. The use of gun phrasing is not as overtly threatening here as it becomes in the second half, but I found it interesting re-listening to it for this section that even as early as “Dear Theodosia” the symbolism is present and we might as well start the counter now. (Gun foreshadowing count: 1)

“Non-Stop”

Alright. Made it to the end of Act One.

Non-Stop accomplishes a lot of things. The first half fills in what happens after the war is over and sets the table for what is to come in the second half. Alexander goes back to New York and practices law – participating in America’s first murder trial as a defense lawyer – with Burr working next door also as co-council. One again, comparison and contrast comes into play as Burr calls Hamilton out on always needing to prove he’s the “smartest in the room”, while Hamilton questions Burr’s moral convictions. Two key lines from Burr in this exchange “Why do you assume you’re the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude will be your doom.” and “Every proclamation guarantees, free ammunition for your enemies.” (Gun foreshadowing count: 2)

As I mentioned in the very first song “Alexander Hamilton”, a line frequently invoked in regards to Alexander is “why do you write like you’re running out of time”. That line is first used here to describe Hamilton’s relentlessness. That line stuck with me all through the crafting of this piece. For a moment I actually considered going full Alexander Hamilton and writing 46 separate essays to correspond with each song in the play. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed (literally…this insane idea was brought on by plus 30 degree sweaty heat wave delirium).

When I think of what’s kept me coming back to this play and expanding on it’s history, themes and relevance in 2020, it was the characterization of Alexander Hamilton as someone driven to write. That characterization is emphasized in Non-Stop when Burr talks about Alexander Hamilton, John Jay (another hugely influential figure largely forgotten by history) and James Madison (America’s tiniest President…but we’ll get to him in Act II) writing the collection of essays defending the new centralized democracy.

The second half of the song shifts into a series of callbacks and setting up the new status for the other characters. Angelica is moving to London with her husband. Washington tells Alexander he’s been asked to lead and tries to recruit him with the following exchange:

This is another moment that Miranda nails as he manages to put just the right smartass, impishness into it as he guesses what Washington is about to ask before he asks it. Again, for his limitations as a singer, Miranda comes through by nailing the jokes consistently.

The rest of the song functions as a series of callbacks to the key moments from earlier in the play. “Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now”, “Helpless”, “never be satisfied” and “history has it’s eyes on you” all get remixed into a medley as we bring Act One of Hamilton to a close.

Final Thoughts

I won’t re-tread a lot of territory here. The first half of the show is definitely the one I think people are most likely to revisit the soundtrack of when wanting a more fun and lively listen. The story is simpler, the villains less complex – even Burr is expanded on in the second half to give him more nuance than the wishy washy caricature he is initially presented as.

I’ll be continuing on (at some point…gonna take a break from Hamilton for a bit) with part 3 Hamilton Act Two (The Feels Mix).

Until next time, thank you for reading. Stay safe. Wear your mask. I’ll catch up with you further on up the road.

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