What does it mean to be human? What does true tolerance towards others and their differences actually look like? Label•less, an Off-Broadway fusion of dance and live performance, explores these questions in a literal sense. The show consists of people from all walks of life giving extended monologues that flesh out their personal struggles. Each tale involves different types of labels put upon them by society, and include homophobia, sexism, racism, being disabled, and more. We each have our own unique stories, and Label•less speaks to the outsider in us all with a very clear message: you are not alone.
Label•less makes admirable strides in asking difficult questions, driven by impressive choreography and even more stunning, powerhouse vocal performances. The entire cast is dressed in black, and they have a synergy that allows them to function as a larger unit. The stories have distinct perspectives, accompanied by the use of screens, projections, and lighting. These assets always emphasize and provide further texture to what we see play out on stage. Some segments are stronger than others, and once or twice, the vocalists feel a tad mismatched for their respective material. The flow can be a little confusing. However, every time the original score is used, it always perfectly fits with the narrative structure.
After an opening video and narration calibrates access to Lea and Drew Lachey’s world, the loosely strung together threads make for a satisfying whole. The stage is expansive, and leans into a grungy atmosphere, complete with industrial scaffolding and fencing. This gives the elaborate choreography plenty of room to breathe, and a dynamism in the staging underlines the cutting nature of the shared stories. Though narratively there isn’t much connective tissue, the message itself is unifying in its totality. At least one nugget here will apply to any given person, and those which do not can still help unravel the complexities of walking in someone else’s shoes.
Label•less always walks a tightrope between dance and vocals; each aspect supplements the other. There are strengths and weaknesses in both, but the music tends to stand out slightly more than the choreography. There were times when the structure reminded me of Glee, particularly moments in the choir room. The writing does a nice job of highlighting people from all different sexualities and nationalities. It feels very well-rounded in that way, and never just diversity for diversity sake. The females drive much of the emotional resonance. A two-way tie emerges in the male category for most shockingly perfect range: Nate Promkul and Kiwi Villalobos. There’s a breakdown that happens from Micah Day that does lose a little of the clarity felt from other performers. His solo song is incredibly relatable; however, the long pauses before it begins prove a little lengthy, despite being followed up by a beautiful scene. These tunes are powerful enough and the emotions impactful enough to really make Label•less stand out.
In particular, “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World, and much of the finale are extremely impressive. The three-way punch of Lauren Maria Abraham, Cayla Nichole Harris, and Paola Marcías is glorious to behold. The high-energy propulsion of “Born This Way” breathes great life into a familiar song that ripples with queer aesthetics. The bit of wheelchairography with Kaylee Bays is also driven by soaring vocals, and an equally powerful interpretive dance from Kendall Maley. The pairings are interesting too, especially regarding character interplay. The folks inside the show claim that these are their real stories, and share the same names as their respective performers. There was only once or twice when the show lost me a little as an audience member. The sudden implications of a political direction kill the momentum significantly at a vital moment in the back half. Up until that point, the focus was mostly on different societal labels rather than taking a definitive political stance. While racism is absolutely relevant in today’s society, this particular song and its placement in the show appears unnecessary to further the plot. While not denying the implications are what some individuals feel, the other songs seemed a little more universal and relatable.
As it moves towards a riveting climax, Label•less saves much of the belty, jaw-dropping power for the closer. There are perhaps a few too many endings, putting a hat on a hat, but it still works. The ending itself is special—the creatives have their heart in the right place. There are elements of jukebox musicality, yet they carve out an identity all their own, despite some familiar elements. Not judging others based upon the labels that society has bestowed is certainly an admirable concept. It could come across as a little too optimistic for those who view the current division as nearly impenetrable. Regardless, there will certainly always be a place in the theater canon for bubbly optimism. If we could all be a little kinder to each other, maybe the world would be a little less dark.
Shed your labels at the door for Label•less, now playing performances Off-Broadway at The Duke on 42nd Street through August 29th. For ticketing information, head over to the official website.
