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Broadway

 In a musical, you will generally see an emotional shift right before the end of Act One. The stakes need to change. One of the most effective examples is from "Kimberly Akimbo." Right before the curtain, Kim decides that she is going to make a birthday demand: If her parents really want her to have a good day, they can promise to be different people. (Less drinking, less self-absorption, less flakiness.) Kim is essentially a child; she thinks these sorts of promises have value. We, in the audience, can sense a trainwreck in the future. Terrific dramatic choice.


Another celebrated example is "Defying Gravity." Elphaba realizes that the Wizard is not what he claims to be; she decides she will wage war to free the animals of Oz. The song should feel both exhilarating and nightmarish. Hard to beat the flying, belting Elphaba.

"Six" does something unusual. We don't get a curtain that "divides" two acts. But--really--there is a curtain. It falls after the Jane Seymour solo. The writers of "Six" have decided that Jane just deeply loved Henry VIII. However skeptical I am of this scholarly claim, I admire the emotional force of the decision. To give Jane a big Adele-style power ballad--after the silliness of Anne Boleyn--is to reshape the "Six" story in a thrilling way.

After the intermission comes the palate cleanser. Greatest among these is "It's Hot Up Here" from "Sunday in the Park With George." Light, brisk, startling. "Six" follows the template with "Haus of Holbein"--a disposable, witty number that surprises us after the sturm und drang of "Heart of Stone." (Tonal shifts are often fun. "Once on This Island" follows the family drama of "Ti Moune" with an upbeat announcement: "On THIS island, the Earth sings--as soon as the storm ends." Lin-Manuel Miranda introduces a "meta" quality after the death of Hamilton's son. Impatient, Jefferson asks, "Yo....can we get back to politics?")

"Haus of Holbein" is a kind of reset--and it's an enviable achievement.

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