‘Illinoise’ review: Moving Broadway show is about love, loss — and dance

Theater review

ILLINOISE

1 hour, 30 minutes, no intermission. The St. James Theatre, 246 W. 44th St.

“Illinoise,” which opened Thursday at the St. James Theatre, is the closest Broadway may ever get to putting an indie movie onstage.

A sad-then-uplifting hipster fantasy told mostly in entrancing dance, it’s like something out of Sundance — a tale of broken modern young people therapeutically coming to grips with their pasts together.

And while my gut tells me the show — from New York City Ballet resident choreographer Justin Peck that’s set to the songs of Sufjan Stevens — is not really a musical per se, it is a transporting and soul-stirring experience all the same.

A quartet of singers, stationed god-like on tall platforms above a painted plywood stage, perform Stevens’ 2005 album, a richly layered Midwestern time capsule, as they look down on the movers below.

Henry (Ricky Ubeda) has spontaneously left his New York apartment to go on an autumn hike, where he stumbles across 11 people around a campfire sharing trippy stories they’ve written. Whimsically, they carry glowing orbs, like Godzilla fireflies.

The first half of “Illinoise” is made up of disparate episodic vignettes occasionally with structured plots, and never with any dialogue or character singing like you’d find in a typical musical. For millennial readers, the format brings to mind the deep-in-the-woods young-adult horror series “Are You Afraid of the Dark?”

One tale, led by the fabulous Alejandro Vargas, is about the serial killer John Wayne Gacy. Another, danced by Jeanette Delgado, treats the Founding Fathers like monsters from “Thriller.”

Exuberant and playful, though contextually confusing, is the section “The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts,” in which Brandt Martinez plays Superman.

Up till now, “Illinoise” is pleasant to the eye and ear, but very much a dance concert with no discernible through line.

The show’s greater purpose clicks in — and so do we — when the wonderous Ubeda cracks open his character’s journal, having built up the confidence to speak (or, you know, spin and plié), and recalls his difficult journey with childhood best friend Carl (Ben Cook).

Those memories of inseparability, unrequited love, loss and more loss are gut-wrenching, especially in the striking number “The Seer’s Tower,” sung angelically by Shara Nova.

Ubeda and Cook, who respectively played Mr. Mistoffelees in “Cats” and a Newsie on Broadway, are gorgeously expressive performers in their faces and movements as they weave between each other and then achingly separate.

Musical theater choreography is a differently fantastic art, of course, but there is real elation in watching brilliant dancers like these get to do what they obviously dream of doing. That passion radiates through this entire cast and show.

And Peck, whose only other Broadway show was 2018’s “Carousel,” strips away any perceived pretension from dance. His creations are graceful and precise, without a doubt, yet also angsty, celebratory and enveloping when paired with the reverie of Stevens’ music.

Rather than feeling like I’d gone to the ballet, I could have been at a backyard bar in Bushwick, so much flannel and baggy pants there were.

That’s great. The last thing Broadway needs is more of the same.