If you don’t think murder is a suitable subject for song, talk to Mr. Sondheim, who brought melody to the murderous Mr. Todd and put arias into the mouths of various Assassins. Or, for that matter, talk to Mssrs. Puccini, Verdi and Wagner. And while your at it, talk to the composers and lives behind dozens of “murder ballads” that are a part of the American folk tradition.
This is all to say that—despite appearances—Stephen Dolginoff’s 2005 Thrill Me: The Leopold & Loeb Story isn’t scandalously innovative. But In Tandem Theatre’s new production showed that it’s a solid piece of musical storytelling that saves its real thrills for the final few minutes.
The “thrill killers” have fascinated storytellers since their murderous plot first hit the 1920s tabloids—Hitchcock’s Rope, based on a 1929 play, is the most famous. And no wonder—the story is ripe with philosophy, morality and madness, with healthy dose of dysfunctional homoeroticism to boot. Dolginoff’s play is framed by Leopold’s 1958 parole hearing, where is asked once again to explain the pair’s murder of a 14-year-old boy.
What emerges is an erotically charged power play in which the Nietzsche-reading Loeb bargains with his adoring lover to be his companion on a series of escalating crimes. In the hands of the productions fine actors, Adam Estes and Joe Fransee (well directed by Chris Flieller), this relationship seems appropriately poised between camp and intrigue. As Leopold, Estes seems to become more submissive and pliant as the story goes on. And Fransee is the pit bull to his lover’s puppy dog, making Loeb’s chest puff with brazen confidence as he ascends to the role of true Superman.
The story is told mostly in song, with the fine voices accompanied only by music director David Bonofiglio on piano. While the characters behind it are well-drawn and fascinating, the music is nothing special—it seems mired in clipped, bum-bah-bum phrases that makes you tired of Dolginoff’s reach for appropriate couplets: “our chance of freedom’s scant/I trust you won’t recant.” Still, it’s clean and crisp storytelling, and there’s a delicious and satisfying payoff at the end of the sentence. Photos by Mark Frohna.
