Mary Jane Healy (Kimberly Doreen Burns) in obvious emotional pain. (Photo by Larry Marano)
Slow Burn Theatre Company's compelling production of the moving musical “Jagged Little Pill” unfolds on a set that suggests a topsy-turvy world. That's fitting, because beneath the immaculate façade of suburban paradise, the family at the center of this show leads an existence that is turbulent.
“Jagged Little Pill” runs through Sunday, June 28 in the Broward Center for the Performing Arts' Amaturo Theater as the triumphant last production of Slow Burn's stellar 2025-26 season. The running time is about two-and-a-half hours, including intermission.
“Jagged Little Pill” is a jukebox musical (one with pre-existing songs not written specifically for the show) featuring the music of Canadian-American singer-songwriter and record producer Alanis Morissette. The musical's basis is Morissette's hit 1995 album of the same title. While the show isn't biographical, it uses Morissette's famous songs to tell an original, fictional story about a modern, seemingly perfect suburban family dealing with heavy real-world issues.
The story centers on the Healy family — parents Mary Jane (“M.J.”) and Steve, as well as their teenage children Nick and Frankie. Behind their seemingly spotless life in Connecticut — reflected in their cheery annual Christmas letter to family and friends — the Healys' world unravels as they deal with trauma, prescription opioid addiction, sexual assault, racism, and gender identity.
Slow Burn Artistic Director Patrick Fitzwater deftly guides a large, dynamic cast of triple threats who fully embody their characters and convey their essence with elan.
Red lighting rains down during a passionate moment from the production. (Photo by Larry Marano)
New York-based performer Kimberly Doreen Burns, who is no stranger to South Florida audiences and resembles Bernadette Peters (both also possess critically acclaimed sopranos), spiritedly portrays the family's matriarch, Mary Jane, or “M.J.”
At the top of the show, Burns and her castmates, portraying other family members, appear as though they're part of a picture-perfect Norman Rockwell painting. The atmosphere is laid back and joyful, and a smiling M.J. narrates the contents of the family's annual Christmas letter.
A lit-up Christmas tree sits nearby, and carolers just outside the home are singing. With unmistakable pride and joy in her voice, Burns' M.J. discusses her son Nick's acceptance into Harvard University and other pleasant matters. She enthusiastically strikes yoga poses as she talks about practicing the holistic discipline and stands atop a couch, symbolizing how great she feels. But her bright smile becomes strained during a scene at a pharmacy, where she tries to maintain a carefree, polite aura while requesting a refill before sounding desperate. It's clear that all is not right with her.
Before long, M.J. is stammering and pacing, practically panting, and she furiously types on her cellphone keypad, as though she's conveying an urgent message that cannot wait.
Near-convincing tears well up as she tells Nick, “Sometimes I feel like you're the only thing I did right.” Through Burns' textured performance, M.J.'s emotional state becomes increasingly unstable to the point of collapse. On her knees and near tears in church, she begs God to help her and soon appears unsteady, a shadow of herself from the beginning of the show.
Certainly, you feel for her as she lies silent in a hospital bed while a family member kisses her on the forehead. In later moments, she participates in reflection and reconciliation. By the end, she is back with her family, once again writing their annual Christmas letter. She suggests they are imperfect people who have learned from their mistakes and are doing the best they can.
Jo (Sydney Freihofer) expresses herself. (Photo by Larry Marano)
Lauren Chanel, who portrayed Frankie in “Jagged Little Pill's” Broadway national tour, triumphantly returns to the role in Slow Burn's fine production. Chanel nicely balances restraint and assertiveness as the Healys' adopted Black daughter who feels out of place. Early on, we sense she is unhappy when she sarcastically tells her mother, “Even your brownies are Caucasian,” highlighting tension within the family. Chanel's Frankie also holds nothing back when she confronts her brother after he witnessed their classmate Bella being assaulted at a party by his best friend but failed to intervene. Chanel's Frankie is also a force as she fervently protests.
While she is sarcastic, passionate, and emotionally sharp in her interactions, Chanel shows us a softer side of Frankie when, for instance, she sits atop a playground swing set with her boyfriend, Phoenix (a sincerely compassionate Manny Tijerina). The swing set becomes a private space for them, like a secret treehouse where they can relax and speak openly. Chanel's Frankie and Tijerina's Phoenix appear tranquil in these moments, suggesting intimacy and emotional openness.
With dark hair, dark eyes, and a salt-and-pepper beard, Ben Sandomir brings a polished exterior and leading-man good looks to the role of Steve, Mary Jane's beleaguered husband. As we've seen, appearances can be deceiving. Sandomir's Steve sounds and looks uncomfortable as he argues with his wife of 20 years and reacts defensively when M.J. confronts him about his absence from the family's life. At times, the couple avoids eye contact, underscoring the tension within their relationship. Interestingly, Steve and M.J. sit next to each other during therapy, even as they remain emotionally distant. At another point, Steve rises and moves away from M.J., highlighting his discomfort with his wife.
During a hospital scene, a doctor tells Steve that M.J. has become dependent on opioids. “Does she look like a drug addict to you?” Steve shoots back, and the doctor asks him what a drug addict looks like. In a quieter tone, betraying humility, Steve admits to being “a mess.” By the end, Steve is part of a tentative reconciliation within the family. He, like the others, is doing what he can to improve.
Steve (Ben Sandomir) speaks on the phone in concern. (Photo by Larry Marano)
Isaac Kueber ably portrays Nick, the “hometown hero” in Frankie's words. But Kueber doesn't play Nick as openly conceited or arrogant. He is often quiet, and at one point appears unenthusiastic, as though his mind is elsewhere. “I just don't feel anything,” he says, downcast. After Frankie confronts him about standing by while their classmate Bella was raped at a party, he dismissively refers to his sister as “dramatic.” Nick initially sits apart from his family members toward the end, but gradually moves closer to them, suggesting an improved relationship. While Kueber's Nick is relatively subdued, he delivers believable intensity and emotion in one scene, including convincing tears.
As Bella, Emily Van Vliet Perea is believably shaken after she is raped. With touching vulnerability, Bella appears before M.J. seeking guidance (M.J. was also raped in college), but tension exists between the two as the older woman does not give Bella a satisfactory answer.
As Jo, Frankie's girlfriend, Sydney Freihofer delivers stinging sarcasm, especially when she bitterly speaks about her mother's devoutness. But she also shares softer moments with Frankie and, at one point, kneels beside a shaken Bella, offering emotional support to the young woman.
While Morissette did not compose the songs specifically for this musical adaptation of her album, they feel purposeful in their placement within the context of Diablo Cody's touching libretto, rather than randomly shoehorned into the show. You don't have to be familiar with these numbers to feel moved by them. They carry the emotional power of music from shows such as “Spring Awakening” and “Next to Normal.”
Snow falls as a troubled Mary Jane Healy (Kimberly Doreen Burns) observes. (Photo by Larry Marano)
“Jagged Little Pill's” score contains enough variety that we never feel it is constantly yelling at us. Intense songs alternate with quieter, more reflective pieces that take us inside these characters' minds as effectively as the louder material. Even if you can't make out every lyric, the performers ensure the emotional intent behind them is consistently clear.
A winning ensemble with strong and expressive voices executes the highly physical choreography (by Madeline Dunn) with synchronicity and seeming effortlessness. The intense choreography underscores the characters' strong emotions.
The production achieves cohesion as Clifford Spulock's lighting, at times flashing and blinding with appropriate hues such as red, echoes the dynamic dance moves and the powerful vocals (with skillful accompaniment from a live orchestra).
Costume designer Rick Pena's clothes are generally dark, which befits this serious show. And Dan Donato's sound design creates a clear sound, although it's sometimes hard to make out individual lyrics, especially when the performers sing them loudly. But that may be part of the point; these young characters itch to express themselves, so they sometimes prioritize emotional expression over clarity.
Ultimately, without preaching, “Jagged Little Pill” reminds us that people don't have to feel alone in their struggles. For more than two hours, we spend time with these flawed characters who remind us that beneath seemingly unblemished appearances lie an ugliness we often try to conceal. But more honest versions of ourselves can emerge from the mess beneath it all.
IF YOU GO
WHAT: Slow Burn Theatre Company's production of “Jagged Little Pill.”
WHEN: Through Sunday, June 28.
WHERE: Broward Center for the Performing Arts' Amaturo Theater, 201 S.W. Fifth Ave. in Fort Lauderdale.
TICKETS: Single tickets start at $49 and discounts are available at (954) 462-0222 or www.browardcenter.org.
INFORMATION: For more information, visit www.slowburntheatre.org.
