Live theatre is a popular form of entertainment that has a number of purposes. First, it is designed to entertain people and forget about their everyday troubles for a while. Second, theatre strives to tell different kinds of stories as an art form. Third, it can act as a means of self expression by performing artists. Finally, it can reflect on the world we live in and reveal certain truths about society, especially truths people might not be aware of or want to acknowledge.

Such is the case for Parade. Two years ago, I went to New York City on summer vacation to see The Book of Mormon (which is in itself a great comedy show). Afterwards, I noticed there were tickets available for a stage musical titled Parade. Unlike The Book of Mormon, however, this was a historical drama with a book by playwright Arthur Uhry, who also wrote the play and film adaptation of Driving Miss Daisy. The music and lyrics are the work of composer Jason Robert Brown (The Last Five Years, 13: The Musical). Parade is based on the true story of Leo Frank, a Jewish factory manager who was accused of a crime and lynched in 1915 but was most likely innocent.

Familiar with the historical basis of the musical, I managed to buy a ticket for one of Parade’s final performances. Having studied history and literature in university, there is something universally appealing about the early 20th Century and how it shaped our world. For better or worse, Parade shows the darker side of race and politics in America. In some form, the show is similar in tone to the musical Cabaret, which explores post-war Germany during the Great Depression just as Adolf Hitler and the Nazis were coming to power. One of the mistakes about studying history is that people tend to view past events with a modern-day perspective rather than exploring the context in which they happened. Another common mistake is the idea of “the past is in the past”, whereas the reality is that history tends to repeat itself.

Jonathan Bruce/Submitted

Like Cabaret, Parade starts off with a steady drum beat. The opening scene takes place in 1863 with a young couple embracing each other. Upon preparing to leave, the idealistic boy tells to his sweetheart about going off to defend his town of Marietta, Georgia in a song called
“The Old Red Hills of Home.”

However, what sounds like a soft, pastoral number begins to take on a darker turn with sinister undertones. As the song continues, the soft drumming becomes more military in structure, and the lyrics are more nationalistic in tone (“Where the Southland runs free”, “Let the blood of the North spill”). When the boy finishes dressing, it becomes apparent that he’s wearing the grey uniform of the Confederate of United States Army and going off to fight in the Civil War. To further ram home the setting, Confederate flags are unfurled onstage for the audience, and it becomes clear what the nature of this show will be. Following a time jump, the story shifts to Atlanta circa 1913, and the young soldier is now an elderly, one-legged veteran recalling fond memories of the Deep South. He sings how losing a leg was a small sacrifice compared to the countless soldiers who gave their lives for the Confederate cause, and there is a hope that “the good old days” can be possible again. What’s jarring is how (in the context of the scene) elderly people, young men and women, and children are singing along with a fervent passion for nostalgia and segregation. Unlike other depictions of racism, Parade shows these are not cartoonish, over-the-top monsters; they are flawed human beings with hopes, dreams, and the capacity to hate. This is equally humbling and terrifying all at once. During the staging of this song, black characters are shown resigned to their tense, uncomfortable situation in Georgia by singing in a cynical, jaded manner. It is clear that things haven’t changed much in the Deep South in the years since the days of the Confederacy. The resulting effect of this opening song has a chilling dissonance that is not lost on those who’ve seen the musical.

Leo and Lucille Frank are introduced as the main characters of the show. Although they’ve been married for two years, it is plain to see there are evident problems in the household. Lucille comes from a proud upper-middle class Jewish family, but she considers herself Southern first and Jewish second. By contrast, Leo is a Jewish man hailing from Brooklyn, New York with a degree in engineering from Cornell University. In the eyes of the South, those are three strikes against him, and various characters refer to him as a “Yankee Jew” and a
carpetbagger. Despite appearing fastidious, aloof and strait-laced, however, Leo is shown to be uneasy about living in Georgia and reveals himself to be quite lonely. This is most evident in his introductory song “How Can I Call This Home”, in which he longs to be back in
Brooklyn. Having accepted a job from his uncle to manage a pencil factory, Leo continues to put his work over his marriage, much to Lucille’s frustration. On the Confederate Memorial Day holiday, Leo naturally refuses to attend the parade (“That’s asinine. Why would anyone want to celebrate losing a war?”) and opts to work instead of going on a picnic lunch that Lucille planned. This comes back to bite him hard later on.

Jonathan Bruce/Submitted

Meanwhile, a local girl named Mary Phagan meets up with her friend Frankie Epps, who’s shown to have one sided romantic feelings for her. Mary goes off to collect her weekly pay at the factory where Leo works, while Frankie longs to make her his girlfriend. Hours later, Leo
is awakened at home by the police and informed that Mary has been found dead in the basement of the factory. Medical evidence indicates she has been raped and murdered. Although there is no evidence against him, Leo is arrested and held in jail without charges. Initially, the authorities cast their suspicions on Newt Lee, the African- American night-watchman who discovered Mary’s body, but he is found to have an alibi and is declared innocent. They have another suspect in black factory worker Jim Conley who confesses to helping Leo kill Mary and move her body. In terrible racist Southern thinking, they decide Leo must certainly be guilty since (in their minds) a black person could not have planned and committed such a horrible crime. With no strong alibi of his own, Leo is immediately labelled as the murderer of Mary. Not helping matters is the work of unscrupulous newspaper editor Tom Watson, who publishes fabricated stories full of lurid sensationalism and anti-Semitic themes in right wing publications.

It becomes clear that many people in Georgia want someone to be punished, and Leo’s Jewish identity plays into their preconceived notions of who the culprit could be. Several Georgians are caught up in the excitement of the murder trial and want to see Leo punished, because he
represents everything that they dislike about northerners. Local journalist Britt Craig senses there is a potentially big story in the making and starts covering the case, thus serving as a sort of Greek chorus for the musical. He attempts to badger Lucille for an interview, which leads her to sternly rebuke him in a song “You Don’t Know This Man.” Lucille personally does not want to attend the trial, but Leo convinces her to go for moral support, since his wife’s absence would only make him look guilty in the eyes of a judge and jury.

At this time, ambitious district attorney Hugh Dorsey yearns for a case that will boost his social standing and launch him into a possible bid to seek higher office. His track record as a prosecutor is relatively poor, and he wants to score a big victory that could take him to the role
of governor. Upon hearing of the Phagan case, Dorsey leaps at the chance to prosecute and embarks on a hate filled smear campaign against the accused man. He meets with Conley and bribes him to testify against Leo in exchange for immunity related to an unrelated prison charge. Meanwhile, Governor John Slaton is not entirely certain of Leo’s guilt or innocence, but he wants the whole case to be over and done with.

Jonathan Bruce/Submitted

Leo’s trial ensues with various witnesses providing false statements and exaggerated claims. Appointing himself Mary’s lover and defender, Frankie lies on the stand as a way to avenge the murder of the girl he admired. While testifying on Leo’s behalf, Lucille insists there is no way her husband could have committed the crime because that isn’t in his nature. At one point, Dorsey brings in the Franks’ housekeeper Minnie and a collection of factory workers who tell unflattering falsehoods about Leo’s seemingly sordid character. Mary’s bereaved mother gives a heart-wrenching monologue about her daughter’s death, culminating in a sneering, anti-Semitic insult directed at Leo. Upon his attorney’s urging, Leo tries to declare his innocence (“It’s Hard to Speak My Heart”) and states he never did anything wrong, but his words fail to sway the jury. During the proceedings, Watson covers the trial by publishing a series of libellous, defamatory articles that portray Leo as a degenerate and a vile human being. In a sequence similar to the opening of The Shawshank Redemption, a stunned Leo is condemned by Dorsey and the judge as being a cold, unfeeling killer. He is convicted of murder and sentenced to death, while Conley is found guilty as an accomplice and sentenced to work on a prison chain gang. Amidst the horrifying verdict, the spectators burst out into celebration with a joyous cakewalk dance as the curtain falls.

Perhaps one of the most poignant moments of Parade is not what happens in the show but rather during the intermission. For fifteen minutes, the actor playing Leo remains onstage in a holding cell, devoid of emotion or sound. His life is essentially on hold, and he’s left in a
perpetual state of hopelessness. This was an addition to the 2023 revival of the show, and it is deeply moving to see a man in shock and coping with two years of his life being taken away from him.

Act Two begins two years later, during which Leo is still filing appeals of his case. While several people are still convinced of his guilt, many others feel sympathetic to his plight and convinced he may have been framed. In one poignant moment, two black characters are shown discussing the Phagan case and commiserating about Leo’s ordeal; one remarks “The local hotels wouldn't be so packed/If a little black girl had gotten attacked!” Fiercely independent, Lucille aims to help clear her husband’s name, and Leo comes to accept this unlikely offer of help. Circumstantial evidence has come to light that indicates Conley was, in fact, guilty of the crime. Furthermore, Minnie and other witnesses reveal they were coerced or pressured by Dorsey to lie in court. Lucille remains certain that her husband is not guilty, and she embarks on a bid to free Leo from prison. By contrast, an agitated Dorsey worries an appeal could overturn his prosecution and thus ruin his political aspirations.

Meanwhile, Slaton harbours deep misgivings about the Frank case, and he begins to fear the possibility of an innocent man being punished for a crime that he did not commit. Lucille encounters Slaton at a party and confronts him about accepting Leo’s presumed guilt at
face value, which further increases his doubts. He visits Conley in prison and confronts him about inconsistencies with his testimony, but the latter refuses to admit anything. Knowing his chances for a possible Presidential campaign will be tarnished, Slaton agrees to hold an
appeal and look over the Phagan case again, much to Leo and Lucille’s joy. This leads to a heartwarming, rousing song titled “This Is Not Over Yet”, in which Leo regains the hope that has lain dormant within him for months. Unbeknownst to the couple, there is a growing,
disquieting tension in Georgia over the appeal, and several people are furious at the prospect of Leo winning his freedom. What’s more, plans amongst the various townspeople in Atlanta are being made in secret. They intend to dispose of Leo in the event that he is acquitted
and released from prison.

Jonathan Bruce/Submitted

Parade had its initial Broadway staging in late 1998 to early 1999 with the late Canadian actor Brent Carver as Leo Frank. Despite earning excellent reviews and numerous awards, the show was criticized as being “too bleak”, “too grim”, and unsettling for general theatregoers
unfamiliar with the true story. Another possible reason was the title “Parade” seemed to imply it would be a light-hearted, happy story, whereas the actual plot of the show was anything but happy. So perhaps it is possible that the marketing might have been mishandled from the start. The musical finished its Broadway run after a brief 117 performances, but it did earn two Tony Awards for Best Book and Best Score. In subsequent years, Parade found its second life with a US national tour, a West End production, and various amateur theatre stagings. The musical has since come to be regarded as a modern classic and one of Brown’s best works. Most recently, from 2022 to 2023, Parade managed to have both triumphant off Broadway and Broadway runs with actor Ben Platt (Dear Evan Hansen) in the role of Leo. Like the original production, the revival won two Tony Awards- this time for Best Revival and Best Direction. The revival’s national tour is currently taking place across North America this year.

On the day of the revival’s first Broadway preview performance in February 2023, a group of neo-Nazis from the right-wing National Socialist Movement tried to boycott the musical. They attempted to slander Leo Frank’s memory by posting false claims and alleging that he was guilty of the crime Dorsey, Watson and various others accused him of committing. Anti-Semitic slogans and nasty racial slurs finally prompted the police to intervene and shut down said protest. Jason Robert Brown and the producers released a statement: “If there is any
remaining doubt out there about the urgency of telling this story in this moment in history, the vileness of display tonight should put it to rest.”

In a similar fashion, Ben Platt also put out a message on social media condemning the neo-Nazi boycott. “It was definitely very ugly and scary, but a wonderful reminder of why we’re telling this particular story and how special and powerful art and, particularly, theatre can be,” he wrote. “And it made me feel extra, extra grateful to be the one to get to tell this particular story and to carry on the legacy of Leo."

There is a postscript to the story behind the musical. Lucille Frank lived until 1957, and she never stopped believing her husband’s innocence. Jim Conley, for his part, largely vanished from public knowledge after 1941, and the nature of his death in 1962 remains a mystery. In 1986, after years of appeals, Georgia finally issued a posthumous pardon for Leo in recognition of the state’s failure to protect his life and allow him to appeal the case. However, it was merely a pardon and not an actual exoneration of the original murder charge. Despite circumstantial and physical evidence proving that Leo could not have committed the crime, the state did not take a definitive stance on the question of guilty or innocence. The Phagan case was officially reopened in 2019 and remains ongoing to this day.

Music Theatre International

Overall, Parade is a brilliant musical and an excellent work of art. It still ranks highly among musical theatre shows of the 20th Century. Furthermore, it shines a light on how the dangers of anti-Semitism, hatred, alternative facts, and nationalism are still alive and running rampant in today’s world. In addition, the musical shows how patriotism and jingoism can lead to bigotry and violence. Although people claim “things have changed”, recent ongoing events such as extremist/nationalist groups in America, the ongoing War in Ukraine, the Israel-Palestine situation, and Donald Trump’s second term as President show that the opposite is, in fact, true. We owe it to the countless other victims of hate speech and violence to not forget.

And we owe it to Leo Frank himself.