Parades tell us about who we are as a nation and a people. In the United States, we’ve been parading to celebrate our democratic values for nearly as long as our Declaration of Independence. While most of our American parades honor military heroes, our nation’s founding or our diverse common values, “Parade,” the 1998 Broadway musical, draws back the curtain on a darker side of American history.
The current revival of the 1998 musical, which recounts the false accusation and subsequent lynching of Jewish factory manager Leo Frank in Marietta, Georgia, is the last “woke” theatrical production in The Kennedy Center’s 2024–25 season. As President Donald Trump declared on X on Aug. 13: “A few short months ago, I became Chairman of the @KenCen … We ended the Woke political programming and we’re restoring the Kennedy Center as the premier venue for performing arts anywhere in the country — in the world.”
What a shame that this late August run, which is on stage at The Kennedy Center Eisenhower Theater just through Sept. 7, very likely won’t be seen by the current president and chairman. The Alfred Uhry book and lyrics and music of Jason Robert Brown reveal the rent fabric of this historical moment in American history, when blatant Jew hatred usurped justice and civility in early 20th-century Atlanta.
While this documentary-like musicalization is told with veracity, illustrated in this revival production with newsprint headlines and sepia-tone photos of the real-life characters, it is also a portrait of the terrible legacy that slavery and prejudice had on American values and mores.
Leo Frank, a New York City Yankee, moved to Atlanta to marry Lucille, a very Southern Jew. An engineering graduate from Cornell, he became a manager of the National Pencil Factory. There, he oversaw paying the young, often child, laborers. When 13-year-old Mary Phagan was found dead in the factory basement, Frank became the prime suspect, even with two other more likely suspects — a night watchman and janitor. Frank was pronounced guilty and spent two years appealing, up to the Supreme Court. On Aug. 16, 1915, he was kidnapped from prison and lynched in Marietta. The case gained national media attention and has been studied as an example of out-of-control yellow journalism. This incident led to the resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan and the creation of the Anti-Defamation League to combat antisemitism.
This moment in history feels as current as today’s contentious X and Instagram posts. According to the ADL, which has tracked antisemitism for 46 years, in 2024, 9,354 antisemitic incidents were reported across the United States. Over the past five years, ADL found a 344% increase in reported antisemitic incidents and, over the past decade, an 893% increase — the highest number on record since ADL began tracking antisemitic incidents.
Director Michael Arden has drawn on the original conception of the show by Harold Prince, utilizing some Brechtian elements reflecting societal decay, yet this musical still leans into its all-American sensibility. The musical opens with a paeon to “The Old Red Hills of Home” — replete with images of Confederate soldiers and flags and the anthemic “Dram of Atlanta.” The rosy-cheeked, all-American cast, clad in muslin dresses, denim coveralls and turn-of-the-century stroller suits, holds a figurative mirror up to the audience to reflect idealized southern life. Yet, during this opening number, the African American actors stand stock still, refusing to sing words that denigrate their existence.
Max Chernin gives Leo Frank that outsider demeanor, and combined with his impatience, he’s a hard man to like. As his wife Lucille, Talia Suskauer comes off as a vapid southern belle, but as the conflict develops, she discovers her inner strength to not merely survive but to ultimately support her falsely accused husband and find her voice. Act One explores the inner workings of the American political machine and how the press, including newspaper owner Tom Watson (Griffin Binnicker) and reporter Britt Craig (Michael Tacconi), works their sources with insider contacts like Gov. John M. Slaton and prosecutor Hugh Dorsey. The dirty behind-the-scenes wheeling and dealing reflects today’s similarly charged political climate.
The 27-member cast is joined by a combined Kennedy Center pit orchestra, although the orchestra still sounds thinner than the 2023 Broadway production, and the vocal quality felt uneven, although both the singers and the muddy Eisenhower sound system seemed to improve in the second act — or I just got used to the poor acoustics.
“Parade” — named for the popular Confederate Memorial Day Parade that opens the musical with red-white-and-blue bunting and balloons — takes a deep dive into the ugly history of racism and antisemitism, dirty politics and economic and class disparities.
Through Uhry’s book adaptation of this long-ignored historical moment, coupled with Brown’s songs, which speak truth to power in expressive lyrics, this past ignominy can provide an inkling of hope that, as Americans, we can become better than we were.
Unequivocally, this history must be taught, as the Jewish people say, from generation to generation. And yet, not until 1986 did the Georgia State Board of Pardons and Paroles officially pardon Leo Frank. If by the end, with its tear-inducing proclamation of steadfast belief in God, “Parade” doesn’t break your heart, who are you marching with?
“Parade” through Sept. 7, 2025, The Kennedy Center Eisenhower Theater, 2700 F Street, NW, Washington, D.C. Visit kennedy-center.org/whats-on/explore-by-genre/theater/2024-2025/parade for information and tickets.
Lisa Traiger is Washington Jewish Week’s arts correspondent.
