Theater review: ‘Lizzie’ subverts audience expectations with satirical glee

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Nicole Visco gives goosebumps as Lizzie Borden in "Lizzie: The Rock Musical"

Halloween seems to arrive in Orlando earlier and earlier every year, and our 2023 spooky season kicked off at the Abbey on Aug. 4, the 131st anniversary of the infamous Borden axe murders.

If the only thing you know about Lizzie Borden is that she “gave her mother 40 whacks,” then buckle up for a hard-driving herstory lesson, because Florida Theatrical Association's full-throated production of Lizzie: The Rock Musical (running through Aug. 13) reexamines her homicidal legend through the prism of ear-bleeding grrrl power. 

For starters, Lizzie Borden (Nicole Visco) never killed her mother; rather, it was her despised stepmother who allegedly succumbed to her blows — or to those of an unknown assailant, if you accept Lizzie’s alibi. And although she and her oft-absent older sister Emma (Briana Moten) certainly resented Mrs. Borden’s claim on their inheritance, this show — written by Steven Cheslik-Demeyer, Tim Maner and Alan Stevens Hewitt — suggests that sexual abuse was a stronger motivation behind Mr. Borden’s demise. The only witnesses to this domestic nightmare were Alice (Leigh Green, as Lizzie’s BFF with benefits) and Bridget (Jennica McCleary), who serves as a one-woman Irish chorus, providing the audience with an ironic counterpoint to Lizzie’s protestations of innocence. 

Lizzie: The Rock Musical boasts perhaps the most authentically kick-ass score of any off-Broadway rock musical since Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and this talented cast scream-sings their way their way through it all with appropriate gusto. McCleary’s pipes are especially powerful during her punk numbers, and Visco wrings real emotion out of her heart-wrenching (and throat-thrashing) arias. I only wish Moten (a Critics’ Choice winner for Fringe’s Whiskeyland) had more stage time, although her song “What the F#%k Now, Lizzie?” is a head-banging highlight. Backing it all is the six-piece band led by musical director Rebekah Piatt, which hits hard enough to fill the House of Blues, much less the Abbey’s intimate house.

Under the direction of Kenny Howard, Lizzie: The Rock Musical feels like the edgy offspring of Spring Awakening’s angsty proto-feminism and Evil Dead: The Musical’s foul-mouthed camp, with an added dash of Six’s pop-diva sensibility. Bonnie Sprung’s skeletal set, as illuminated by Kylee Taylor’s flash & trash lighting, creates an electric atmosphere that would be ideal for a Universal haunted house or an Alice Cooper concert; and Daisy McCarthy Tucker’s multilayered costumes cleverly bridge the gap between Jane Austen and Hot Topic. 

With so many strong elements, it’s a shame that my opening-night enjoyment of Lizzie was undermined by a muddy microphone mix that made most of the lyrics unintelligible; based on some pitch issues, I’m guessing the performers couldn’t hear themselves any better than I could. Since the plot is largely told through song (with only a few overwrought book scenes), the sequence of events and subtleties of characters’ motivations became confusing, especially during the second act’s courtroom sequence. 

Even so, the satirical glee this show takes in subverting the audience’s expectations — the parents and their murders are never even seen onstage — came through loud and clear, and Visco’s unnerving gaze needed no words to give me goosebumps. Fix the audio problems, and Lizzie: The Rock Musical makes a bloody good pre-Halloween treat, as long as you don’t mind a touch of tinnitus. If they cut it down to a 90-minute one-act, maybe it could follow Six and Beetlejuice: The Musical as the next improbable production to premiere aboard a Norwegian Cruise Ship?