“The Magnificent Seven” celebrates and critiques women’s gymnastics
By Bridgette M. Redman
Celebrating, amplifying, questioning and criticizing a cultural institution can be critical to its survival, whether that institution is theater, art, literature, politics or sports.
The musical, “The Magnificent Seven,” which got its world premiere at Flint Repertory Theatre on March 31, 2023 after a three-year delay, puts this dynamic on full display in a stunning fashion.
A true ensemble piece, “The Magnificent Seven” tells the story of the 1996 U.S. Women’s gymnastics team, its individual members and the sport itself. Creators Gordon Leary, bookwriter and lyricist and Julia Meinweld, composer, approach the subject matter with great passion, elevating the heroism and elite skill of each girl (the oldest was 19). However, they do not shy away from criticizing the culture and the physical and emotional demands placed on these young women in the pursuit of being champions.
It’s a theme that has become more salient since they wrote this musical with Simone Biles drawing attention to the mental health sacrifices athletes make and others calling out the abuse of those in power from coaches to, most notoriously, the team doctor Larry Nassar who spent decades sexually abusing athletes.
It is a rare stage production that can manage to give equal time and weight to seven different characters, but “The Magnificent Seven” succeeds beautifully. Every gymnast has a story, a dream, a flaw, a heartbreak. Every character has her solos and moments in the limelight.
Four people who aren’t on the team play minor roles—one character who makes a brief appearance at a timely moment to sing a solo and duet and then three NBC sportscasters. One excellent choice that Leary and Meinwald make is to exclude the people who too often are given glory and headlines for the work that the athletes do.
The men who are often given center stage are, in this production, off stage. Even the banal sportscasters are off stage for all but a single moment of the performance, seated at a desk that has been carved out of the audience seating. There are two male sportscasters and one female, the latter a former gymnast who is rarely given a chance to speak up and her colleagues are mostly oblivious to her history, itself a biting commentary.
Nassar is only a brief footnote, a single mention which is all that he deserves.
What is front and center are these seven athletes, gymnasts at the top of their game on the deepest and most talented gymnastics team the U.S. had ever fielded up to that point. They were the first U.S. women’s gymnastics team to ever take home a gold medal in the team event and all seven of them played critical roles in making it happen.
Mary Paige Rieffel plays Shannon Miller, Phoebe Strole plays Kerri Strug, Alex Finke plays Dominque Moceanu, Bryana Hall plays Dominique Dawes, Amanda Kuo plays Amy Chow, Monica Spencer plays Amanda Borden and Hana Slevin plays Jaycie Phelps.
While all of them are older than the girls they play, they give each gymnast her own unique personality, individual drive and story arc. They make the most of the beautiful words and music the creators give them, inviting the audience to care as much about their inner life as their pursuit of the gold.
Rieffel infuses Shannon with intense attitude and confidence and when she sings “Not for You” to the sportscasters who are trying to reduce her life to soundbites, she easily wins over the entire audience. It’s an empowering moment for all the gymnasts and also a reminder to sports fans that they don’t own the athletes they demand so much from for their entertainment.
Spencer spotlights Amanda’s gentle soul and the backbone she provides for all her teammates. She creates a character who glows with love and leadership, the perfect captain for this team of champions. Finke brings impish innocence to the youngest gymnast, balancing the occasional nervousness with an assuredness that she is destined for greatness.
Kerri Strug’s famous vault is often the most remembered Olympic moment from 1996 and it gets dramatic attention in this musical, though being well-balanced with the stories of the other six gymnasts. Strole does an amazing job with her opening and closing solos, from the first where she talks about always being in someone else’s shadow to the moment where she must decide to take the gold-clinching vault.
One of the catchiest songs, which gets sung at two different points in the show, is “Like Mary Lou” where they all express their admiration for Mary Lou Retton, who in 1984 was the first U.S. woman to win gold in the all-around competition by scoring a perfect 10 when she stuck the landing on her final vault. It’s a fun song that still contains a few heart-wrenching cringes.
Perhaps one of the greatest strengths of “The Magnificent Seven” is the way each song captures a different aspect of elite gymnastics, from the drive and commitment of the gymnasts, to their mental anguishes to their hopes. “My Body Is” is a heartbreaking song in which the gymnasts talk about their injuries and how their entire identity is what they can do with their bodies, something the entire world thinks that they own. “You Can’t Let It Show” expresses their frustration at how they are doing something so incredibly challenging and difficult and the world expects them to make it look easy.
Each song has its moment and celebrates the diversity of the experience—the ups, the downs, the good and the bad. Music Director Jeremy Robin Lyons leads a live band consisting of electric guitar, keyboard, electric bass and drums, giving the music a very 1996 sound.
With bold creative choices and skillful stage direction, Director Catie Davis evokes the energy and intensity of an Olympic gymnastics competition, deftly shifting the focus between characters. She finds the balance that the show needs to be effective and to keep it an ensemble piece.
She leads a team of technical artists who provide the perfect playground for these actors. Choreographer Duane Lee Holland Jr. takes on the challenge of creating dances that give the impression of gymnastic moves and routines without actually expecting the actors extremely talented in acting and singing to also be elite gymnasts. His work is a thing of beauty in which all the choreographic choices further the story and the depiction of the emotional inner life of the gymnasts.
It is impossible to divorce the work of Scenic Designer Ann Beyersdorfer and Lighting Designer Jake DeGroot. They each boost the artistry of the other and create a dramatic stage on which many actors can make an intimate space look big. The thrust stage provides a sharply lit square surrounded by the team benches. Side flats display iconic magazine covers, images and Wheaties boxes that get lit up at appropriate moments. The backdrop allows for a variety of dramatic lighting that changes as needed.
The two also partner to provide pieces that represent the various gym equipment, whether rings hanging from the ceiling, a symbolic bar or narrow bands of light making up a balance beam.
Costumer Adam M. Dill recreates the iconic look of the U.S. gymnastics team while creating pieces that are added and subtracted to contribute to the storytelling and provide diverse looks throughout the intermission-less show. Props Designer Miranda Sue Hartman created matching duffel bags from which the actors could pull those few props needed throughout the show.
With its mixture of praise for the sport and its athletes and criticism of the abusive aspects, “The Magnificent Seven” can be seen as a nuanced work of cultural criticism. It celebrates the champions of the 1996 Olympics, but it never lets the audience forget the cost.