Speaking of Lincoln Center, WAR HORSE. Just, the whole damn thing, really.
Maybe I'm a bit of a psychopath, but I don't find myself tearing up when most audience members seem to. I find some moments gasp-worthy (the sudden mid-air silk dance in BRIEF ENCOUNTER), or breath-taking (a moment of such sadness like the "Who Knows Where the Time Goes?" sequence at the end of JERUSALEM last year), but choking up tends not to be my first impulse.
That said, besides WAR HORSE, I'll second (or third) the moment in RAGTIME between "President" and "Till We Reach That Day." The revival, with it staged such that Coalhouse streaked across each lever of the tiered stage and down every staircase while shrieking, was absolutely stunning in that moment. I also found myself choking up when I saw MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG and "Not a Day Goes By" was reprised in Act II, and then cursing Sondheim for making me choke up at such a horribly beautiful, fated-to-be-tragic happy moment. INTO THE WOODS, meanwhile, has a murderer's row of "No More" into "No One is Alone" into "Children Will Listen" at the finale that could draw tears to anyone's face.
Words don't deserve that kind of malarkey. They're innocent, neutral, precise, standing for this, describing that, meaning the other, so if you look after them you can build bridges across incomprehension and chaos. But when they get their corners knocked off, they're no good anymore…I don't think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little.
