Hamilton: The Revolution

At Hamilton and Eliza’s wedding, Angelica, gives a toast. Then the scene rewinds to replay the winter ball from Angelica’s perspective. Angelica admits that she will always regret that night. All the men are pursuing the Schuyler sisters, but Angelica is taken with Hamilton. He introduces himself, recognizing that she, like him, “has never been satisfied” (80), and dodges questions about his family. Aside, Angelica raps about the electricity of finally finding a man who can match wits with her. Then she sees that Eliza has fallen for him too, and Angelica immediately leads him to her sister, promising to change his life. As a woman in the period, Angelica’s social responsibility is to marry a rich man. As the oldest and cleverest sister (with no brothers), she must climb the social ladder for her family, and Hamilton is poor—no matter how much she wants him. Additionally, Hamilton is a social-climber and will be happy to pursue another Schuyler. Finally, Angelica knows that her sweet sister would pretend to accept Angelica with Hamilton but would suffer. Now, at their wedding, Angelica laments that she “will never be satisfied” (85) and neither will Hamilton, confessing that she still fantasizes about him. Everyone toasts the couple and the revolution.

Hamilton drinks with Mulligan, Laurens, and Lafayette. They tease him about giving up womanizing. Burr enters to congratulate Hamilton. Mulligan invites him to “spit a verse,” calling Burr “the worst” (86) when Burr ignores him. Hamilton congratulates Burr on becoming a Lieutenant Colonel, wishing he could have Burr’s command instead of “manning George’s journal” (86). Burr would rather be indispensable to Washington. Laurens, Mulligan, and Lafayette tease Burr about the rumor that he has a woman, and Hamilton sends them away. Burr admits that he is in love, but their relationship is illegal because she’s married to a British officer. Hamilton doesn’t understand why Burr won’t pursue the woman he loves.

In hindsight, the success of the revolution seems like a foregone conclusion, but at the time, there had never been colonists who had successfully fought for independence from their home country. In 1788 in Poughkeepsie, Hamilton argued for a unified country because diverse people would blend over time and overcome their differences. In 2013, also in Poughkeepsie, the company spent a week workshopping The Hamilton Mixtape for the New York Stage and Film Series at Vassar College. They finally decided it would be a sung-through staged musical because spoken dialogue would seem bland next to rap. Therefore, Miranda would be the sole author. At the end of the week, the company performed a rough version of Act I and what was written of Act II. In the audience, Leslie Odom, Jr. cheered with the crowd. Miranda and Kail hoped he would join the cast.

Burr needed to be Hamilton’s opposite, and the actors so far had been too similar to Miranda. Odom was cool and sophisticated and, as Miranda says, “Dude makes me look scruffy” (90). Odom agreed immediately but was under contract with NBC and received a lead role in a television drama. The network agreed to release him, and Odom set to work defining the role of Burr. Odom says that Burr is “arguably the best role for a male actor of color in the musical theater canon. […] You get to show all your colors. Nobody asks us to do that” (90). The part is as substantial as the title role. At the festival, Odom was especially taken with the song “Wait for It,” which was Burr’s anthem to his personal philosophy.

Burr sings about Theodosia, the woman he loves. They’re having an affair while her husband fights for the British. He doesn’t know if their relationship will last, but he’s “willing to wait for it” (91) because love can’t be controlled and doesn’t care about what a person deserves. Burr’s grandfather was “a fire and brimstone preacher” (91), but religion doesn’t teach everything. His parents were intelligent and respected, but they hadn’t prepared him for their deaths, because death, like love, doesn’t care who a person is. Burr is willing to wait to see if he survived his family for a reason, as he can only control himself. Burr insists that he is “not standing still,” just “lying in wait” (92), but he wonders what it feels like to be Hamilton, with no restraint or hesitation.

Miranda tells Lacamoire, the orchestrator, that he has gotten permission to sample “Shook Ones, Pt. II” by Mobb Deep, a ’90s hip-hop classic. In “My Shot,” Hamilton quotes, “I’m only 19 but my mind is older” (94), followed by a violin riff that will elicit laughs of recognition. Miranda plants musical references throughout the score to a range of musical theater and hip-hop songs. McCarter suggests that these allusions are not just subtle homages, but they further the underlying idea that history can be recast and repurposed. The most prominent musical reference is “Ten Duel Commandments,” based on the Notorious B.I.G.’s “Ten Crack Commandments” about how to become successful selling illegal drugs. The number foreshadows and prepares the audience for the final Burr/Hamilton duel by outlining the rules. Biggie, like Hamilton, was a writer “and nobody’s fool” (95), and he died at age 24, also murdered by gunshot.

Hamilton writes to Eliza from the battlefield, who sings, “Stay alive…” (96) throughout. Hamilton is frustrated with writing Washington’s letters. Congress is providing little help to the struggling revolutionaries. Washington’s strategy is to surprise the British, avoiding combat. Hamilton and Laurens become closer, writing anti-slavery treatises and covertly striking the enemy. Hamilton begs Washington for troops to command, but Washington refuses. Instead, he promotes General Charles Lee, who Hamilton doesn’t respect. In battle, Lee ignores Washington’s orders to attack and is fired. Lee insults Washington, who orders Hamilton not to retaliate, asserting, “History will prove him wrong” (98). For Hamilton, Laurens challenges Lee to a duel. Hamilton replies, “Laurens, do not throw away your shot” (98).

The company describes the rules of dueling. First, “demand satisfaction” (99) and ask for an apology. If there is none, choose a second to either negotiate a truce or a time and place. Hire a doctor to stand by, facing away for deniability. Duel before dawn after leaving your loved ones a note, then try again to negotiate peace. Hamilton and Burr enter as the seconds. Burr calls dueling “dumb and immature” (100), but Hamilton insists that Lee must be accountable for his words and the men who died under his command. Finally, walk 10 paces and fire.

Miranda and Kail meet with producer Jeffrey Seller in July of 2013, determined to start rehearsing for a full production by the end of 2014. Seller thinks that this is unrealistically fast, especially because the show doesn’t have a second act yet. As they consider Off-Broadway theaters, Seller suggests the Public. He compares Hamilton to A Chorus Line, a groundbreaking musical that opened at the Public in 1975. The Public has been producing innovative, genre-shifting musicals and plays since it opened with the musical Hair in 1967. Artistic director Oskar Eustis, who commissioned and workshopped Tony Kushner’s revolutionary two-part epic play, Angels in America in 1991-1992, is immediately excited about Hamilton. The first production is scheduled for 2015, giving Miranda a year to write and Kail a year to stage it. Eustis likens Miranda’s use of rap to tell “the foundational myths of his country” (103) to Shakespeare. In the song “Meet Me Inside,” an angry confrontation between Hamilton and Washington, Miranda accompanies the rhythmic dialogue with music, but the words stray away and play with the underlying rhythm, much like Shakespeare did with iambic pentameter.

Laurens has shot Lee in the side. Before they can run, Washington enters. He sends Burr for a medic, assuring Lee that the duel wasn’t on his behalf and thanking Lee for his service. Furious, Washington tells Hamilton that fighting among themselves weakens them, and that he can handle Lee’s public insults. Hamilton is just as angry, rebuking Washington each time he calls him “son.” Hamilton is sick of being passed over for his own command, because unlike Washington, Hamilton has no status or titles to help him advance himself. Washington doesn’t want to risk Hamilton’s life and orders him to go home. 

When Miranda optioned Chernow’s biography, it had been optioned three times by studios for films that never happened. Chernow recognized that there were some difficulties with dramatizing the narrative. For instance, Eliza was an overall wonderful person, but, Chernow says, “It’s difficult to make pure goodness compelling” (107). In 2013, Kail called Philippa Soo to ask her to play Eliza in the workshop of Act II at the Public, and Miranda was immediately thrilled with her. During the process, Soo asked Chernow for advice. Chernow divulged that while writing the biography, his own wife, Valerie, had identified strongly with Eliza. Like Eliza, Valerie was kindhearted and steadfast without ambition or agendas. When Valerie died, Chernow inscribed on her tombstone a line from the last letter that Hamilton wrote to Eliza: “Best of wives and best of women” (108). Chernow agreed that Soo was perfect for the role and even slightly resembled his wife. 

Hamilton goes home and Eliza is pregnant. Hamilton is upset that he didn’t know, but Eliza wrote to Washington a month before and asked him to send Hamilton home. She knows that Hamilton won’t stop fighting, but he deserves to meet their son. Hamilton asks, “Will you relish being a poor man’s wife? Unable to provide for your life?” and Eliza replies, “I relish being your wife” (110). She doesn’t care if they have money or status as long as they’re together. She asks Hamilton to let her have a place in the historical narrative that he’s creating.

In 2014, Kail introduced a workshop of Hamilton (he convinced Miranda to nix “Mixtape” from the title a few months earlier) at the 52nd Street Project, telling viewers that they were “the first audience in the history of the world” (112) to see Act I and Act II. Miranda was still furiously editing the night before. Due to time constraints, Kail staged Act I and presented Act II concert style. The most notable development was the addition of costumes. Veteran Broadway designer Paul Tazewell decided that the actors would wear period garb from the neck down while remaining contemporary from the neck up. This meant no powdered wigs for George Washington (or the other men), defying the iconic image of the historical figure in favor of revealing the actors as themselves.

Strikingly, the actors appeared in the recognizable blue coats of George Washington’s Continental Army, presenting “black and Latino actors, young men and women from communities that have seen their freedom infringed for hundreds of years, win freedom for all” (113). The audience cheered and sobbed, chattering excitedly afterward, and a buzz spread throughout the city. For practicality in a workshop performance, the costumes were rendered as cream-colored mock-ups with colorful pieces added as necessary. However, this choice persisted all the way to Broadway. Tazewell, with five prior nominations, finally won the Tony Award in 2015 for Hamilton. In his speech, Tazewell drew a connection between his now-recognized role in the production and his presence as a part of US history as a Black man, where people of color have often been treated as an afterthought.

Burr asks, “How does a ragtag volunteer army in need of a shower somehow defeat a global superpower?” (118). He announces the return of Lafayette as their secret weapon. Lafayette raps about how he went to France to petition for funding and returned with guns and ships. Lafayette appeals to Washington to utilize Hamilton’s tactical ingenuity by giving him the command he wants. Washington ignores Lafayette, calling for Hamilton and complaining that he needs him. Then, Washington informs Hamilton that he has troops for him to command. Hamilton kisses Eliza and returns to Washington. 

learned through hardship: “You can’t control who lives, who dies, who tells your story” (120). In the notes, Miranda identifies this line as the central idea of the musical. Washington knows they can be victorious and Hamilton has potential for greatness but reminds Hamilton that history is watching him too.

At the Battle of Yorktown, 1781, Hamilton and Lafayette embrace, congratulating each other on recent accomplishments and exclaiming, “Immigrants: we get the job done” (121). After the war, Lafayette plans to go home and start the French Revolution for freedom. Hamilton promises to fight by his side. They separate to lead their own men into the battle. Hamilton sings, “The world turns upside down” (121) and slips back into his martyrdom fantasies, aware that he could die today. He thinks about Eliza and realizes that he needs to survive to see the births of the nation and his son. Hamilton orders his men to empty their guns. To stay alive, they will sneak attack, and a stray gunshot would ruin it. Hamilton describes the battle as the start of the American experiment.

Laurens is fighting in South Carolina because, “We’ll never be free until we end slavery!” (121). Historically, Laurens fought in the Battle of Yorktown before going to South Carolina, but Miranda made the change for expediency. The real Laurens fought for enslaved people to fight alongside the revolutionaries for their own liberty and emancipation. After Hamilton’s mission succeeds, they meet up with Lafayette and reveal that the plan worked because they planted Mulligan as a spy amid the British. The British surrender, and the battle ends. Laurens says, “Black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom,” and Washington replies, “Not yet” (122), a nod to continued existence of slavery. Miranda notes that Washington was an enslaver whose hundreds of enslaved people weren’t emancipated until he died. There’s mass celebrating, and the British sing a drinking song: “The world turned upside down” (123), which Miranda explains are the lyrics of the song that the historical British sang while retreating, but Miranda wrote the melody to be somber and befit the moment dramatically.

Dramatically, the uplifting victory of the revolution would have been a conventional act ending, leaving audiences uplifted about the heroic transition from war to new nation. In reality, the transition was difficult and only started after the war. Miranda and Kail added to the first act to mitigate the sense of patriotic elation incited by the victory. Oskar Eustis notes that after the battle, the audience will only sit still for one character: King George. Then, “Dear Theodosia” came into being when Miranda realized that, during the same period the country was being birthed, both Hamilton and Burr became new fathers. The song elicits tears from audience and company members alike who relate to the feelings of new parenthood.

Although Miranda also became a father in 2014, he wrote the song earlier, during an emotional death in his wife’s (Vanessa’s) family and their adoption of a puppy. Although Miranda didn’t write the song for his son Sebastian, he performed it for him, suddenly understanding something that was abstract. Hamilton loved his son, Philip, but certainly made mistakes as a parent. Throughout the creation process, questions arose as to whether Hamilton’s personal flaws might push the audience away. However, the audience response suggested that his flaws made him relatable, according to Javier Muñoz, who was Miranda’s alternate for the role of Hamilton. Muñoz performed once a week, spending his remaining time observing any of Miranda’s frequent improvised additions to add to his own performance. 

King George enters, visibly despondent. He sings about the colonies as if they were a lover who left him and disrupted his life. King George glibly mocks them because the revolution was the easy part, and the colonists certainly don’t know what happens next. Smugly, he sings, “Oceans rise. Empires fall. It’s much harder when it’s all your call” (127), finishing by warning them not to come running back to England.

Burr sings about his newborn daughter, Theodosia, named for his wife—the former wife of the British officer. When Theodosia was born and she cried, Burr’s heart broke. He swears to devote his life to his daughter, who melts him with a smile, even though he never expected himself to be so emotional. Burr sings, “You will come of age with our young nation. We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you” (128). Hamilton enters and sings about his son Philip, repeating some of Burr’s lyrics. Hamilton and Burr grew up without fathers and promise to be present for their children, even knowing that they’ll make mistakes. Together, they hope to create a nation to pass on to their children, who will “blow us all away, someday” (129).

Laurens, standing alone, repeats lines from “The Story of Tonight.” Eliza gives Hamilton a letter from Laurens’s father. She reads aloud that Laurens was killed in South Carolina in a gunfight that erupted after the war as the British left town. Eliza asks if Hamilton is all right. Hamilton replies, “I have so much work to do” (131). Miranda notes that Hamilton wrote uncharacteristically little about his grief for Laurens.

In January 2015, the company and creative team prepared to open Off-Broadway at the Public’s 290-seat Newman Theater. The show was technically complex, with 1,300 cues that needed to be checked and adjusted, one by one, during tech week, the week before opening, to create a coherent world from the broadest wash of light to the tiniest detail. The general design aesthetic mixed 18th century and contemporary, but the props were created and designed with an eye to verisimilitude and historical accuracy. Props master Jay Duckworth added intricacies that weren’t even visible to the audience, such as giving the characters individualized wax seals for the letters. Additionally, because Hamilton is sung-through, it was also almost fully choreographed, so choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler was singularly focused on working and adjusting the dancing. The final song of Act I, “Non-Stop,” speeds through 12 scenes in only six minutes and asks the question: “[W]hat makes a genius relentless, what turns a gifted individual into a monster of creativity?” (133).

Blankenbuehler noted that he identified with Hamilton’s frenzied career pursuits. Blankenbuehler was hired to choreograph In the Heights despite his admitted inexperience with hip-hop and salsa. He took classes on the styles and created a unique hybridized aesthetic that won a Tony Award. Blankenbuehler’s Hamilton choreography was all-encompassing. He created a language of “stylized heightened gesture” (134), which integrated meaning and purpose into every movement. Like most productions, Hamilton rehearsed in other spaces, and tech week meant finally moving into the theater. Adapting to the new space and adding technical elements inevitably throws off-kilter the delicately balanced cohesion achieved in rehearsal. One new challenge added was the dual turntable, which meant that the center of the performance space was now spinning.

When scenic designer David Korins proposed a turntable to create the illusion of motion and energy, Kail didn’t think it was necessary. Eventually, Kail, Blankenbuehler, and Miranda became both excited about the idea, particularly because the design included two turntables. The task of revising and reshaping the choreography with the turntables was intense, but Blankenbuehler found that the work distracted him from thinking about his young daughter undergoing chemotherapy. Blankenbuehler’s personal experience with his daughter (who survived) informed how the Hamiltons would move while enduring their son’s death. At the premiere, the audience was stunned by the efficiency of so many moving parts. McCarter compares this process to the first six years after the revolution, as depicted in the Act I finale. The chaotic changes and corrections are invisible to the audience.

After the war, Burr and Hamilton become attorneys in adjacent New York offices. Although they start practicing simultaneously, Hamilton’s career skyrockets, and Burr wonders why he is so unstoppable. In a courtroom scene, as co-counsel for a major case, Hamilton grandstands and Burr pulls him back. Burr accuses Hamilton of thinking he’s smarter than everyone else and demands to know why he writes so much as if he’s going to run out of time. Hamilton announces that he’s ready to give up law and take part in democracy as the New York junior delegate at the Constitutional Convention. There, Hamilton speaks for six hours to an increasingly restless room, proposing a new type of government.

Burr questions why Hamilton gives voice to everything he thinks. Then, Hamilton shows up at Burr’s door in the middle of the night, insisting that it’s important. Hamilton has a client who needs a lawyer, and not only is Burr a better lawyer, but Hamilton tends to make people angry. The client is “the new U.S. Constitution” (142). Burr immediately says no. Hamilton wants his help with The Federalist Papers, an anonymously published collection of essays defending the Constitution to the public. Burr admits that he supports the Constitution, but the document is messy and self-contradictory, and he isn’t willing to risk his career. Hamilton points out that they fought an entire war for the right to build the country. Burr still refuses. Angelica tells Hamilton that she is moving to London to marry a boring rich man who will give her a comfortable life, reminding Hamilton to write.

Burr announces that Hamilton wrote The Federalist Papers with James Madison and John Jay, which should have been 25 essays evenly divided. In the end, it was 85 total essays, written over six months. Jay became ill and wrote five. Madison wrote 29. Hamilton wrote 51. Burr asks again why and how Hamilton writes so furiously. Washington is elected president, and he asks Hamilton to run the Treasury. Hamilton agrees without hesitation, although Eliza begs him to reconsider uprooting their lives. Layering onto one another, the significant voices in his life sing about him: Angelica sings, “He will never be satisfied”; Eliza adds, “What would be enough to be satisfied”; Washington reminds, “History has its eyes on you”; and Burr questions, “Why do you assume you’re the smartest in the room?” (144). Finally, Hamilton cuts them off, exclaiming, “I am not throwing away my shot!” (145).