REVIEW: Ride the Cyclone, at Metropolis Performing Arts Centre.
Alongside Degrassi, Nirvanna the Band the Show, and the works of Guy Maddin, one of the more notable Canadian cultural exports of the 21st century (from my vantage point, at least) would have to be Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell's eclectic-to-a-fault musical Ride the Cyclone, now roaring back to the Chicagoland area with a new production at Arlington Heights' Metropolis Performing Arts Centre. After making its U.S. premiere at Chicago Shakespeare Theater back in 2015 (I did see that production, and yes, my back does hurt right now, thank you for asking), the show opened Off-Broadway in 2016 to positive notices, made the rounds at regional theaters across the nation, and has otherwise spent the last few years amassing a cult following of youthful theater fans, eager to indulge in the show's open-hearted amalgam of crude humor, macabre aesthetics, and unabashed earnestness.
For the uninitiated; Ride the Cyclone follows six teenage members of the Saint Cassian Chamber Choir, residents of the tragically-named Uranium City, who have all tragically perished in a freak rollercoaster accident (on the titular Cyclone Rollercoaster, of course). They are thrown into a mystical purgatory alongside a wise-cracking fortune teller machine, The Amazing Karnak, who reveals to the group that he has the power to bring one of them back to life. And so, we get a mini cabaret of sorts where each of the choir members sings for their chance to come back from the dead. Ride the Cyclone, then, exists in an ever-sprawling micro-genre of musicals I affectionally call Grocery List Musicals; shows that contain a large (but manageable to keep track of) ensemble of characters, usually centered around an audition or contest of some kind, where we spend the show cycling through each character's particular moment in the spotlight strutting their stuff. From A Chorus Line to Cats to The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee to Six, Grocery List Musicals provide a great opportunity for companies tired of producing Songs For a New World for the 17th time to put up a true ensemble showcase within a larger, somewhat sturdier narrative frame.
For what it's worth, I don't think Ride the Cyclone ever really clears the bar set by those aforementioned shows (yes, even Cats), though not for lack of trying; when the show sets its sights on dramatic, emotional fare - in both its book and its score - the results are compelling, deeply felt, and wonderfully life-affirming. Much of the show, however, is beset by an "LOL So Random"/Millennial-Cringe style of humor that threatens to sink the show entirely. This "throw every joke at the wall to see what sticks" desperation also applies to the general structure of the show, where the Rules of Karnak's magical powers change on a dime for the sake of narrative expedience (and no, commenting on that randomness isn't cute, I'm sorry to say), and the intent of each character's respective number seems to shift constantly from "this is why I deserve to live" to "this is who I really am" to "my deepest fantasy is to save an alien planet of Sexy Cat People" (that last one, a glam-rock number sung nobly and with gusto by Eldon Warner-Soriano, is so bizarre without being funny that the rest of the show is practically an uphill battle to justify its existence).
This production is directed by Lillian Castillo, an original cast member of the CST production who starred in every major regional production of Ride the Cyclone from 2015 through 2019, and that past allegiance to the material, unsurprisingly, has both positive and negative ramifications. Castillo unquestionably understands what makes the heart of this show tick, and her collaboration with these actors (aside from some frequent pacing issues throughout) results in some genuinely impressive moments of empathetic ensemble work. Unfortunately, such familiarity with the work also means that Castillo's perspective feels relatively set in its ways, unable to really find any fresh sense of how to engage with what is inherently a mixed bag of a musical. This shows up in the physical production too; we get a sprawling and intricately managed set from Angela Weber Miller, exuberant choreography from Mandy Modic, and vivid costumes from Rachel Boylan, but we also get a noticeably poor sound mix throughout the night, paired with off-putting and flatly-designed projections from Anthony Churchill.
(Side note: Many images throughout Anthony Churchill's projection design, most notably a windmill shown during Noel's number and the majority of sci-fi imagery shown during Ricky's number, looked indistinguishable from the style of generative A.I. imagery that has become toxically rampant in the past few years. Without definitive proof, I can't officially go on the record saying that the production uses generative A.I., but the fact that I'm having a hard time even discerning whether it's the case is troubling in itself.)
As mentioned before, though, the cast is doing wonders with the material, with notable standouts being Alex Merkel as the overachieving Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg, and Amelia Tam as Jane Doe, the mysterious choir member whose head was chopped off in the rollercoaster accident, leaving her searching for her identity throughout the show. I was pleasantly surprised to remember that I had seen Tam earlier this year in a very different show about reckoning with the concept of death, and seeing her performing here in a much different theatrical register (and with a hell of a soprano voice to boot) was one of the more pleasant moments of the evening.
It's easy to see why young audiences have glommed onto Ride the Cyclone so much, alongside its pleasant pop-rock score and its youthful protagonists; it's dark without being off-putting, funny without being intellectual in its humor, heartwarming without being emotionally complex, and thematically intriguing without being too deep, while its adjacent-to-underground status also gives one a kind of "in-the-know" cultural status for having even heard of the show. I don't begrudge anyone who wants to see this production of Ride the Cyclone (I overheard a young teenager in the audience saying she had already seen this production six times), and all I can hope is that this flawed-but-earnest attempt at producing this flawed-but-earnest musical is perhaps a gateway to a life exploring the grander possibilities that exist within the medium of musical theater. If this is the kind of ride you enjoy going on, be my guest. Though, if I do recall, the Cyclone in the show is prone to freak accidents, isn't it? I'll take my chances elsewhere, then.
Ride the Cyclone runs an estimated 90 minutes, with no intermission, and performs at Metropolis Performing Arts Centre (111 W. Campbell St, Arlington Heights) through October 25th 2026. Tickets are available HERE.
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