As a note, I have not seen this musical performed. This is solely a reflection of my thoughts of the cast recording released in 2024.
Broadway loves an angsty teenage boy musical. This isn’t a criticism – more so a compliment – just a note that the adaptation of S.E. Hinton’s 1967 novel “The Outsiders” to a stage musical of the same name makes sense. It’s the spiritual successor of “West Side Story,” and “Newsies,” and tonally falls somewhere between the former’s story of racism and gang violence and the latter’s pro-union, pro-solidarity rallying call.
Opening on Broadway in April of 2024, “The Outsiders” boasts a book from stage veteran Anthony Rapp and a score by Jonathan Clay and Zach Chance of Jamestown Revival.
Aside from minor changes to better fit the stage medium, “The Outsiders” story remains true to its source.
The story is set in 1960s Tulsa where the West and East Side are divided along class lines. To the West live the Socs – a wealthy socialite gang – and to the East live the impoverished Greasers. Ponyboy Curtis (Brody Grant) desires to leave his predetermined fate in Tulsa as a Greaser, but finds himself increasingly stuck like his older brothers Sodapop (Jason Schmidt) and Darrel (Brent Comer). When Ponyboy’s best friend Johnny Cade (Sky Lakota-Lynch) kills a Soc during a brawl, the two are forced to flee with the help of Dallas Winston (Joshua Boone) and must confront the reality of their lives and the possibilities for their future.
I remember reading “The Outsiders” as a pre-teen and again as a teenager, and being drawn in by the themes of found family, individual identity within a group, and the text’s pervasive anger.
“The Outsiders” is truly an ensemble piece that amplifies the voices of many through the eyes of one. The events of the story are recounted by Ponyboy, but the stories he tells belong to all of the Greasers. Ponyboy meditates not only on the trajectory of his own life, but on his experiences within the context of those around him.
The music cleverly parallels this.
The folksy roots of the music lends the story a sense of groundedness; this feels like the kind of music the boys would listen to and the style of song they would use to express themselves. This truly is the Greasers responding to assumptions about themselves as a group.
In addition, many of the songs start as intimate performances by one or two characters, but eventually add backing vocals from the extended cast. This works particularly well during Ponyboy’s soliloquy “Great Expectations,” and Dallas’ heartstopping reflection in “Little Brother.” Further, the absence of a large group presence makes Johnny’s stripped-down 11 O’Clock Number (the song in a musical that functions as a final narrative revelation or message) “Stay Gold,” all the more emotionally poignant.
As the three voices at the center of the story, Grant, Boone, and Lakota-Lynch are all stunning. Their voices are complementary to one another but distinctly individual in style and tone. Their singing genuinely mirrors the dynamics of their characters in the way they effortlessly come together and assert their own identities.
Unfortunately, despite the actors and the music having a solid grasp of the characters, the lyrics are inconsistent in their characterization.
While “The Outsiders” focuses on a cast ranging from their teen years to their early twenties, age and maturity are not correlated in this narrative. The downtrodden existence of the Greasers and their legitimate struggles with financial hardship, discrimination and grief have aged all of them beyond their numerical age.
In the novel, Ponyboy is often reflecting on abstract concepts about the meaning of life or pondering his existence within the scope of the larger world. His language isn’t fancy, but it is incisive. The Greasers are plain spoken but deeply insightful.
When the lyrics manage to capture this same tone of accessible and inquisitive, the music shines. For example, “If you’re not born into money / then you’re born into despair,” is the perfect motif to describe the Soc-Greaser tension, appearing in “Tulsa 1967,” and “Run, Run Brother.” Dallas touches on this theme too in “Little Brother,” singing “They [the Socs] want us out of town / but then who would they beat on?”
Even somewhat cheesy rhymes can gain authenticity through the delivery of the actors, like Ponyboy and Johnny singing “We’d have ourselves a garden / but we wouldn’t work too hard,” in “Far Away From Tulsa.”
However, some of the couplets are so childish in idea or writing that they feel like a mockery of the characters’ trials.
In “Grease Got A Hold,” Dallas, one of the oldest and unanimously considered the toughest, sings: “Ponyboy I think it’s time you learn / that grease isn’t given / it’s something that you earn.” Or the Greaser’s reflection on Ponyboy and Johnny’s redemption of the Greaser title in “Hood Turned Heroes,” singing: “Hoods turned heroes / when a Greaser’s in the paper / you can bet a dollar that it ain’t no good.”
These lyrics wouldn’t be so underwhelming if they weren’t placed alongside poetic couplets that do the story and its subjects justice. With the strength of the energetic performances, it’s a disappointment to see a good idea get near good execution and just miss it.
Despite this, I do think the album can be an enjoyable listen, especially in a group setting. This could be an interesting point of conversation for those with an attachment to the source material, or for those seeking to add another angry teenage boy musical to their repertoire.