Jamie Lee
I’ve written quite extensively on horror comedy musicals. In fact, I’ve written a horror comedy musical, Brides! (You can get an album of select songs from the show, Brides (World Premiere Sneak Peek), wherever you stream or buy music online!)
Whether you like musicals or not, whether you like horror or not, The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals (music and lyrics by Jeff Blim, book by Nick Lang and Matt Lang, directed by Nick Lang) speaks your language with its comedy and draws you into the story underneath the farce.
Horror comedy musicals take three genres (or two genres and one medium, depending on your definition of “musical”) that people sometimes turn their noses up at or otherwise cringe at—three genres that, in theory, should not work when put together—and “monster mash” them up. Putting three categories together would often close off all escapes but a small intersection in the middle of the Venn diagram. Instead, the combination of these three opens the reach even wider and offers something for everyone. Every time these three ingredients are joined—whether poured into a potion, sewn together and zapped to life, sprayed out into the lucky audience in the “splatter zone,” or however else you can dream up in your twisted nightmares—you end up with something unique, even from its fellow horror comedy musical brethren.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show is very different from Little Shop of Horrors. Both of those are very different from Muppets Haunted Mansion. And all three of those are very different from The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, written by and starring StarKid. Luckily, you have someone like me!
Maybe you’re like this writer and don’t like to read too much about things you haven’t seen in case of spoilers. Maybe you’re not like this writer and you wouldn’t be caught undead watching a musical. Or maybe crowded spaces are understandably a no-go for you in the current climate.
Regardless, StarKid films every one of their original musicals and posts it online. You can watch The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals in full, for free, and legally, on YouTube!
When you’re done with that, join us, because…
The Comedy
Quite a bit of the comedy in The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals comes from having fun with the musical and horror genres and how they can blend. The tone of the frequent prods at musicals comes across as loving jabs and not mean-spirited blue brain-bashing. What makes this distinction is dually-layered. On the surface, what makes the distinction is that…it is a musical. In fact, it’s more than just an unmistakable musical: it’s unashamed to be a musical. It’s full of songs, from bombastic solos to group numbers featuring the entire cast singing and dancing (except for the one guy who doesn’t like them).
In a very fitting casting choice, while almost every actor plays multiple roles in the show, ranging from actors with major roles who only have a few other roles out of necessity to actors who constantly pop up as assorted one-scene wonders, only one cast member only has one role: Jon Matteson as Paul Matthews, the titular “guy who didn’t like musicals.”
As much of the comedy comes from lampooning musicals, just as much of the comedy comes from showing just how much of a buzzkill Paul is. Paul’s awkward naysaying being played for laughs strengthens the impression that the show’s not being wholeheartedly derisive toward musicals.
His discomfort doesn’t just apply to musicals, but also to…pretty much everything. His answer to everything is an uncomfortable, dismissive “…No.”
Joining the company’s softball league? “…No.” A longtime friend’s invitation to see a show with him and his daughter? “…No.” Donating to charity? A very uncomfortable “…No.” Sometimes, there’s even a winding road just to get through that ellipse and to that “No.” Even his conversations with Emma Perkins (Lauren Lopez), who works at a local coffee shop close to his office (though not as close as the Starbucks) have an awkwardness and hesitation.
For someone like Paul who never, ever steps outside his comfort zone, it’s easy to see him as someone happy with his life just the way it is. After all, he doesn’t want anything. He doesn’t want a promotion. He doesn’t want more friends…and even for the friends he does have, he doesn’t want to spend much time with them. He’d like a relationship with Emma…in theory. But he’s not doing much to develop one.
Paul doesn’t want to change anything in his world or the world at large…but his discomfort with pretty much everything shows a person deeply uncomfortable with life, for some nebulous, vague reason…
Paul’s constant awkward discomfort is just as constantly played for laughs.
Throughout the show, the characters poke fun at musicals and smirk at characters who do like musicals. If the people of Hatchetfield are so focused on musicals—whether liking them or not liking them—where can the horror enter the score? It sounds like it’s not very scary…
The Horror
The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals definitely doesn’t shy away from horror. It’s full of macabre imagery, haunting lighting…and gore! (It even got a Kill Count!)
The horror comes from the bones of the plot. It’s how the show implements the horror elements that influence how much of the horror the audience directly experiences. The show doesn’t show its hand right away.
This show involves a meteor crashing to Earth, bringing aliens that graphically kill and assimilate humans into their hive mind. The humans left over are eccentric, snarky, and full of one-liners, but when it comes to the actual musical alien invasion around them, they take this absurd situation very seriously. If these aliens used more traditional, non-musical methods in their takeover, the horror the characters are feeling would directly translate to the audience.
That is the key here. The bones of the plot are horror. The characters feel that horror. The audience sees singing and dancing. The characters see their world falling apart and the people around them dying and being assimilated into a hive mind one by one. And when it comes time for the kills to be on full display, the gore, lighting, music, and special effects all join together to paint an effective picture, whether it’s comically graphic or unsettling.
That’s not to say that the horror doesn’t make an impact. It’s the way the horror mixes with the comedy, music, and other elements that make it hit in its own unique way. How can all these disparate elements come together and harmonize in one song? All you have to do is think about the implications…
How They Mix
The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals opens with a device that is seen more often in theater than in film or TV (though it’s certainly not unheard of onscreen). From various comedy and variety shows to Broadway shows like Wicked or If/Then, The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals begins with a scene that takes on an entirely different meaning by the end of the show. We return to this scene toward the end, though with more context.
The opening number is, fittingly enough, “The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals.” This is really quite a clever opening, especially for a show with this title. The lyrics, choreography, and performances strike a balance of poking just as much fun at musicals as they do at “the guy who didn’t like musicals.” Throughout, the song has fun with the musical element. Singing to the audience is a classic musical device, especially in opening numbers: immersing the audience in the world of the show and giving a taste of what’s to come in terms of tone, music, story, setting, and characters.
In The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, it’s truly the “musical” part that joins the horror and the comedy into its own unique hive mind. The horror, filtered through the musical, is often funny. (Though at times, the music and other artistic choices are still haunting.) With the musical filter often making the onstage happenings more comedic, it’s easier for that comedy to also cover the performances, effects, and copious gore. The actors in the hive mind shift back and forth between comedic and off-putting.
The comedy, when filtered through the musical, is amplified, coming from a farcical source and even having multiple people voicing it. When the comedy is about the musical element and comes from people who aren’t in the hive mind yet, it serves as both a fun showcase of the characters’ personalities and a wink at the audience, bringing the audience further into the farce. The show even embraces its theatrical element with unconventional interactions with the audience. Yes, a musical alien hive mind is ridiculous…but despite all their screaming and horror, the characters know it’s ridiculous, too…even as they fight to stay alive. From the characters’ perspective, they know how hilarious it sounds, but they’re forced to embrace it because it is a genuine threat. When audiences join in on that mentality, it makes for a hysterical and memorable time that’s sure to leave them happy.
This can be a very tough tightrope to walk for an actor. In The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, every actor has standout moments to bask in the spotlight and shine. Jeff Blim is consistently tasked with tackling very eccentric, wacky, and bombastic characters that have to be simultaneously funny and off-putting, not to mention different from each other in not only character, but singing style. Whenever one of Blim’s characters enters, he doesn’t just walk away with the scene, he scoops it up, spins it around, and dances around the stage with it.
Jaime Lyn Beatty maintains a hilariously dramatic Judy Garland affect as Charlotte Sweetly. Emma Perkins brings both snarky humor and heart to Lauren Lopez. Jon Matteson takes total downer cynic Paul Matthews and makes him someone interesting to watch as he constantly fights between his aforementioned eternal discomfort about…everything, and the fact that, despite his mantra being “…No,” he’s not doing it out of cruelty, vindictiveness, superiority, or just wanting to be a jerk. Matteson makes it clear that a lot of Paul’s discomfort comes from not wanting to rock the boat too much or directly hurt anyone’s feelings.
Matteson’s nuances burst out to the forefront during “Let It Out,” and it is not to be missed.
Corey Dorris’ slippery slides into passion about whatever Bill Woodward is focused on at the moment are hilarious to watch and a real kick in the…head. Joey Richter makes Ted Spankoffski such a jerk that you know whenever he opens his mouth to brace yourself for whatever’s about to come out; and yet, he’s still fun to watch: a great example of a character you’d never want to be stuck in a bunker with during the apocalypse…but is very entertaining to watch. Maria Rose Faith is funny throughout and gets a haunting number with heart in “Not Your Seed.”
This brings us to one of the aspects of horror comedy musicals that sometimes sneak up on and surprise people: they can get you to care. The comedy in The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals is very self-aware. A lot of this self-aware comedy comes from the characters themselves as a natural part of their personalities. Rather than separating the audience from the characters, the comedy endears the audience to the characters. Even the comedy that comes at the expense of the characters and their flaws still comes from those characters’ actions.
When the show returns to the setup of the opening number, we of course have more context to fill in the mystery and more stakes we know about the situation, including a character the opening song so openly mocked who’s become someone to, despite all musical warnings to the contrary, sympathize with.
The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals starts off poking fun at musicals and people who don’t like them…in a choreographed group musical number full of amorphous characters telling us about a character who’s not only offstage, but hasn’t even been onstage yet. It hits its climax with those amorphous characters now being people we know, and the person they told us about being someone we’ve come to know as he is now on stage for the scene. We’re still laughing at what we laughed at before, but we’re more engaged with it this time around. Before, we were just watching as they told us a story. Now, we’re invested in the story: a part of the story. The story extends even through the bows at the curtain call, not letting go of the audience until the lights go down on an empty stage.
The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals goes on a journey: at some point along that journey, even the most unsuspecting audience members may find themselves on board. Almost like the audience becomes assimilated into a hive mind of its own…
…Huh. Did we think about those implications?
