Next to Normal is a journey through the minefield of mental health, served with a side of rock music that’ll have you tapping your feet while reaching for the tissues. This Pulitzer Prize-winning musical follows the Goodman family as they navigate the treacherous waters of bipolar disorder, grief, and the quest for normalcy – whatever that means.
At the heart of the story is Diana, a suburban mom with long-term mental health issues. Her husband Dan is the embodiment of ‘stand by your woman’, even when she is assembling sandwiches on the floor at 3am. Their daughter Natalie is the poster girl for invisible child syndrome, while son Gabe has a knack for popping up when you least expect it.
Michael Longhurst’s direction brings this emotional whirlwind to life with the finesse of a tightrope walker juggling chainsaws. The staging is controlled chaos, with a revolving kitchen island as a metaphor for the family’s constantly shifting dynamics. One minute it’s the heart of the home, the next it’s a barrier between loved ones. It’s like watching a domestic ballet, if ballet involved fewer tutus and more prescription pills.
The show’s treatment of mental health and its associated therapies is both its strength and, occasionally, its weakness. It doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of living with bipolar disorder, but a suggestion at one point that abandoning medication and therapy in favour of facing the past is a bit like suggesting a band-aid for a bullet wound. And the show doesn’t pull punches; you will come away shocked at the impact of mental health issues on a family unit. Yet there is also comedy; the sequence where Diana’s family and doctor, all dressed in white coats, shake pill bottles like maracas and recite the many potential side-effects of mediation to the tune of the Major General’s song is genius.
Caissie Levy as Diana is a force of nature, her performance as subtle and balanced as Diana isn’t. She swings from manic highs to depressive lows, and her rendition of ‘I Miss the Mountains’ is enough to make you want to flush your own medication and go climb Everest – not advisable, but tempting. Jamie Parker’s Dan is the human equivalent of a well-worn sweater – comforting, familiar, but maybe in need of a good wash. His journey from steadfast rock to breaking down in ‘I am the One (reprise)’ is heart-wrenching. Watching him try to keep his family together is like watching someone herd cats – if the cats were on a mix of uppers and downers and occasionally hallucinated.
Eleanor Worthington-Cox as Natalie is a bundle of teenage angst wrapped in a Mozart-loving boyfriend-hunting wrapper. Her transformation from focused, idealistic student (whose drive to be perfect makes Hermione Grainger look like a hippy on a gap year) to pill-popping party girl is hugely impactful. Jack Ofrecio as her boyfriend Henry provides a sweet counterpoint to the family drama, like a marshmallow in a bag of nuts. But it’s Jack Wolfe as Gabe who really steals the show. His performance of ‘I’m Alive’ is electrifying – literally, thanks to Lee Curran’s inspired lighting design that turns the stage into a rock concert. The decision to give him a handheld mic for this number is genius.
Trevor Dion Nicholas deserves a special mention for his dual role as Dr. Fine and Dr. Madden. His transformation from stuffy psychiatrist to imaginary rock star is comedy gold, proving that even in the depths of despair, there’s room for a laugh.
Lee Curran’s lighting design deserves its own standing ovation. It’s not just illumination; it’s storytelling. The shifts from harsh, clinical whites during therapy scenes to warm, domestic glows for family moments are subtle and powerful.
The choreography, while not traditional in the jazz-hands sense, is a crucial element of the show. The way the characters move – or don’t move – speaks volumes. Diana’s manic episodes are a whirlwind of frenetic energy, while her depressive states are marked by a stillness that’s almost painful to watch. The family’s interactions are a dance of avoidance and confrontation, with meticulously planned near-misses and collisions.
As the story progresses, we see each character undergo change. Diana’s journey is the most obvious, as she grapples with her illness and the various treatments thrown her way. But it’s the subtle shifts in the other characters that really drive home the impact of mental illness on a family unit. Dan evolves from a man in denial to one forced to confront the harsh realities of his wife’s condition and his own role in enabling it. Natalie’s arc is poignant, as she struggles with the fear of inheriting her mother’s illness while simultaneously resenting the attention it draws away from her.
Musically, Next to Normal is a tour de force. Tom Kitt’s score blends rock, pop, and classical elements, mirroring the fractured psyche of its characters. The transitions between musical styles are as jarring and unpredictable as Diana’s mood swings, yet they flow with a coherence that’s almost paradoxical.
This show forces us to confront the uncomfortable truths about mental illness, family dynamics, and the elusive nature of ‘normalcy’. It is a testament to the power of musical theatre to tackle complex, heavy themes without losing its ability to entertain. It’s a delicate balance, much like Diana’s mental state, but one that this cast and crew manage with impressive skill. My one warning? Don’t take your children. I don’t want to give away either of two incredible plot twists in this show, but they involve serious adult themes which are just not suitable for children under 14.
Next to Normal is playing at the Wyndham’s Theatre until 21 September 2024.
