Theatre in Review: Jasper in Deadland (Prospect Theater Company/West End Theater)Jasper, the hero of Jasper in Deadland, is one troubled teen. His parents are divorcing, his mother has a boyfriend, he hates school, and he has no friends. Well, actually, he has one friend, a girl named Agnes, but as this new musical begins, she is about to take an extremely ill-advised leap of a local cliff. The terrified Jasper, a competitive swimmer, takes the 50-foot jump after her and wakes up in a place called Deadland. If any of this sounds familiar, it should. Jasper in Deadland is the Orpheus myth by way of the CW Network, a very contemporary version of the afterlife, where people have lousy jobs, sue one another, and make corporate deals, and where bottled water from the River Lethe causes everyone to forget the details of their lives on earth. Jasper, who isn't really dead, causes quite a stir among the dead souls: When they touch him, they have sudden flashes of the people and lives they left behind. He resolves to get Agnes back, no matter what; as it happens, Agnes isn't really dead, but, through some bureaucratic deceit, she is being dispatched to Elysium, the most privileged and difficult-to-reach portion of Deadland. It's always good to see a musical whose creators are trying something new and unusual, and Jasper in Deadland certainly fits that bill, but this is a show with serious book problems. (Hunter Foster wrote the libretto.) The opening sequence rushes through the details of Jasper's unhappy life, plunging him into Deadland before we have a chance to know him and sympathize with him. A bigger problem is Deadland itself; it comes across as an arbitrary collection of characters and plot devices designed to create obstacles for Jasper over the course of two hours. Mr. Lethe, who peddles those forgetful waters and who would like Jasper to be his representative on earth, is a standard-issue parody of an evil corporate executive. Dante's Beatrice, here named Beatrix, wanders in, working as a kind of transport agent to Elysium. (She also has a southern accent, for no particular reason, although she has a lovely ballad about platonic relationships, "Love Untouched.") Then there are the Norse gods, Loki and Hel, who wander through, spreading mischief, for no particular reason that I could discern. It's not just that Deadland is made up of bits and pieces of various mythologies and works of art; it's that the all-purpose nature of the place doesn't really connect with our everyday reality in any meaningful way. We should feel that Jasper, as he makes his way toward Agnes, should be working through his problems. (Among other things, he is emotionally shut down, unable to declare love to anyone, including Agnes, on whom he is deeply dependent.) Instead, he comes off as the hero of a video game in which the rules are constantly being switched around. It's especially unhelpful that we don't see Agnes for ourselves until nearly the end of Act One. There's a reason for this -- it has to do with the show's major plot twist -- but it undermines our interest in his quest. Nevertheless, the score, music, and lyrics by Ryan Scott Oliver, contain a number of striking items. "Hungry for Your Heart," sung by the Egyptian demon Ammut -- Deadland is nothing if not ecumenical -- who blocks the way to Elysium, has a powerful, raise-the-roof melody, as does "Stroke by Stroke," in which Jasper decides to make an existential leap of sorts. "Awful People," which details Mr. Lethe's gimlet-eyed view of human society, is quite a rouser, with an intricate lyric to boot. The finale, "One More Day of Snow," is the best kind of theatre song, addressing the characters' feelings in roundabout fashion instead of hitting us over the head with a series of declarative sentences. In addition, Brandon Ivie's production is staged with the maximum of invention, creating an entire underworld with little more than a deck that breaks apart, some flowing pieces of China silk, and a series of shelves decorated with random objects. The cast is notably strong: Matt Doyle effectively communicates Jasper's closed-off nature while keeping a strong hold on our sympathies; he is also gifted with a big, gorgeous voice. As Gretchen, his companion through the underworld, Allison Scagliotti is a charmer with a nifty way of throwing away her lines. Together, they make a team worth walking through hell for. The supporting cast is equally ingratiating; among the standouts, Danyel Fulton is a fierce, full-voiced Ammut; Bonnie Milligan is an affable, amusing Beatrix; and Ben Crawford's Mr. Lethe all but stops the show with "Awful People." Patrick Rizzotti's spare scenic design, making use of the devices mentioned above, proves to be all that is needed to conjure up the afterlife. Herrick Goldman's lighting, with its saturated color washes and kinetic chases on the upstage wall, completes the effect. Bobby Pearce's costumes are a compendium of various styles, all knitted together to create a unified effect. Ed Chapman's sound design is more problematic. The West End Theater, a church hall, is a small, yet especially reverberant, space, but for whatever reason, the decision has been taken to mic the cast. The result is a big, almost assaultive, sound that sometimes compromises intelligibility, particularly in the choral numbers. I would dearly love to hear this score under different conditions; it might sound even more promising. Jasper in Deadland doesn't really work, but it is full of talent and, scene by scene, it can be quite entertaining. The careers of most musical theatre creators are dotted with early, unworkable pieces that nevertheless promised more. Ahrens and Flaherty have Lucky Stiff. Stephen Sondheim has Anyone Can Whistle. (I could go on.) It may well be that Jasper in Deadland will fall into this category for Foster and Oliver. -- David Barbour 
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