The Escargot of Musicals: The Book of Mormon - Kathryn Anderson

Amidst today’s rampant socio-political controversies, The Book of Mormon is perhaps the most strangely relevant tale of them all. This bold and satirical musical, from the creators of South Park and Avenue Q (Trey Parker, Robert Lopez, and Matt Stone), arrived at the Orpheum Theatre in Minnesota on December 10, 2024. It follows two Mormon missionaries—“Elder Price” (Sam McLellan) and his goofy “sidekick” “Elder Cunningham” (Diego Enrico, blending the styles of Jack Black and Josh Gad) on their journey to a small Ugandan village. Whatever vision you’re picturing, grab it, crumple it up, and toss it out the window, I can assure you that you’re thoroughly mistaken.

Instead of whimsical comedy focused solely on the Mormon pair’s antics, audiences get far more than they likely bargained for, finding the plot surrounded by biblical style vignettes of Mormon mythology and the classic vulgarity and flamboyantly unadultered songs and language. The show is raw, unfiltered, and bold, yet it’s not without heart or noble themes, even if its execution has been denoted as questionable.

Sophistication and artistic symbolism aren’t the name of the game here. Instead, The Book of Mormon thrives on the unexpected. The storyline of this 13-year-old musical (which debuted in 2011, winning nine Tony Awards and a Grammy for Best Musical) has undergone “necessary changes” to reduce racial stereotypes and give the Ugandan villagers more agency. This is especially noticeable in the character of Nabulungi (Keke Nesbitt), daughter of village leader Mafala Hatimbi (Lamont J. Whitaker) who is depicted now with more modern tools such as an iPad rather than a typewriter and more independence in her lines. Yet, given the exaggerated, stereotypical portrayals, one wonders how these depictions must have looked in earlier versions.

Though perhaps this exaggeration is the point. The Ugandans are presented not as they are, but as the Mormons see them. The stage design, framed by a cutout of the Mormon temple, and sets resembling a child’s Mormon storybook, reinforce this perspective.

However, one noticeable flaw remains the lack of innovation used in the performances. Despite the updates to the script, the costumes, sets, and choreography remain nearly identical to the original production. As a non-equity tour, this version, of course, has unavoidable constraints, but more variation to complement the updated script might have garnered appeal to longtime fans.

Yet there’s something to be said for a musical that takes such noticeable risks and triumphs in popularity despite controversy. Yes, there were moments when I felt uncomfortable, even questioning whether it was okay to laugh. I also wondered how the Black cast members felt as one actor paraded in whiteface during the true pinnacle of the show's flirtatious faux paus with hilarity and going too-far. 

The Book of Mormon is like escargot—an acquired taste and not for everyone. Its lowbrow humor may alienate some, but its enduring success amidst unabashed vulgarity proves its appeal. From the hilariously sarcastic tap dancing and quick change wonder “Turn It Off” (choreographed by the talented Jennifer Werner) to the hilarious and visually titillating “Spooky Mormon Hell Dream” which had me drooling over the spectacle of its technical masterpiece, this show has earned its stripes among other broadway greats for a reason. In a world often weighed down by censorship and social etiquette, The Book of Mormon feels almost cathartic in its willingness to let it all hang out. Though if you decide to give it a shot, most definitely, do not bring your baptist grandmother, or your children.