Blood, Fire and Hebrew in ‘Prince of Egypt’ at Matthews Playhouse

In synagogues around the world where the Five Books of Moses are read in the traditional triennial cycle on the Sabbath, the 21 verses that tell the story of Moses’ birth through his marriage — the basis for Act 1 of Stephen Schwartz and Philip LaZebnik’s The Prince of Egypt — are only chanted aloud once every three years. 

So it’s an incredible enough coincidence that those verses were read in Charlotte and around the world on the Sabbath before the current Matthews Playhouse production of this biblical musical opened. It’s currently running through Sunday, with a performance added on Thursday to make up for the multiple cancellations due to weather last weekend. 

If the odds against such an alignment of the stars weren’t great enough, consider that this theatre critic was responsible for chanting 11 of those 21 verses for my congregation at Temple Israel, less than 7 miles from the Playhouse’s Fullwood Theatre! Some tasty morsels from Act 2 were to be read aloud across the Jewish world on the next two Sabbaths.

Now it’s true that the liberation of the Children of Israel from Egypt is celebrated every spring at Passover, but the biography of Moses is not. The traditional text that is read at the seder table, the Haggadah, never even mentions Moses’ name.

The fact that Judaism doesn’t dwell much more than Christianity on Moses’ biography may be the chief reason why Schwartz in his lyrics and LaZebnik in his script felt emboldened to take so many liberties with that storyline, shoving it provocatively in a more progressive direction. Amid the traditional blood and fire, there are fresh nods toward feminism, humanism, brotherhood, religiosity and celebration.

The heroism of the Hebrew midwives, Shifra and Puah, is already baked into the biblical narrative. So are the zeal and resourcefulness of Yocheved, Moses’ mom, who hides her firstborn in the face of the Pharaoh’s harsh decree and floats the babe on the Nile after three months, trusting in God. Miriam also draws a couple of cameos after the Red Sea, the first in leading the national song of praise and victory.

Schwartz and LaZebnik actually transform Miriam into Moses’ most significant sibling, usurping the role of Aaron in her devotion and belief. Even more surprising, Tzippora, given in marriage to Moses in the Bible by her priestly Midianite father, becomes his right-hand woman, sharing his iconic staff and accompanying him in his confrontations with the newly anointed Pharaoh.

Most startling of all for me, Tzippora is the first person onstage to sing in Hebrew. Not only that, the Midian maiden takes from Miriam the distinction of being the first Israelite to dance in the Exodus story. First, she emerges from a cage and dances sensuously — and defiantly — at Pharaoh’s palace for his court.

“I am always free” is her resolute song, proclaiming that she cannot be given to the Prince, though it’s unclear whether Moses or Rameses understands the Hebrew any better than most of the audience. Two additional Hebrew songs are included in the score. 

Stage director and choreographer Tod A. Kubo recruited Danielle Rodnizki, cantor at Temple Beth El, to ensure that the cast and chorus remain within shouting distance of correct Hebrew pronunciation.

Moses is well-acquainted with this new Pharaoh, for as soon as he’s fetched out of the Nile by Queen Tuya, he is raised in the royal household as the stepbrother of the future Pharaoh, Rameses, the young Prince of Egypt. For less than five minutes, Tzipporah is a hand-me-down, gifted to Moses by Rameses — before either of the brothers has learned that he is a Hebrew.

The early appearance of Tzipporah and her surprising linguistic abilities were perhaps the biggest surprises for me at The Prince of Egypt dress rehearsal. But the celebratory “Simcha! Chaggiga!” was far more profound.

Whether Schwartz was aware of it or not when he wrote the lyrics for his 2017 musical adaptation of the 1998 DreamWorks animated classic, his last Hebrew song — not included in the earlier film — spotlights a word that doesn’t appear in scripture until Moses speaks it to Pharaoh. 

While there are five mentions of the word feast or holiday in English translations of the Book of Genesis, the Hebrew word used, mishteh, is closer to a party than a holiday. Passover, Succot, Purim and Chanukah are all chaggim — holidays, the earmarks of religion. 

Following in the footsteps of Joseph, Moses marries the daughter of a foreign priest, the Israelites’ first contact with formalized religion … centuries apart. On top of the usual emphases on slavery and suffering, we might discern that Schwartz and LaZebnik are lightly layering onto their burdens a lack of religion for the enslaved people.

They dramatize it deftly, if without scriptural authority, in the conflict between Miriam the believer and Aaron the skeptic. After Moses’ exile, he and Tzipporah bring the concepts of holiday and celebration to the Hebrews.

No less profound is the Scriptural Hebrew injected into the Oscar-winning “When You Believe,” quoted directly from Moses’ “Song of the Sea,” a daily Jewish prayer. Two key words here are also unprecedented in the Bible, ashira and Kodesh, the Hebrew words for sing and holiness. Just the first two words of the mi kamocha at the Matthews Playhouse nearly brought me to tears.

While a children’s choir didn’t sing the Hebrew, none of its sublimity was sacrificed in live performance. The voices gathered by Kubo are wonderful and his choreography — especially in the Burning Bush episode — is beyond praise. Lighting and scenic effects for the bloody First Plague are equally stunning.

Topping the cast are Neifert Enrique as Moses and newcomer Ezra DeVane as Rameses. 

The character arc for Enrique is obviously wider and tastier as Moses discovers who he really is and what he was destined for, with no sudden lurches along the way. He even gets to anguish, notwithstanding rabbinic objections, in the wake of the unthinkable carnage of the Tenth Plague.

DeVane, on the other hand, must transform from a carefree, irresponsible prince into a mighty politician, torn in different directions by his Pharaoh father, his mother Queen Tuya, his wife Nefertari, the high priest Hotep, the sudden sufferings of his people, and Moses. 

Of course, his role isn’t as fleshed-out as his antagonist’s (or as savory) but he shone most brightly in the wondrous duets that Schwartz crafted for the brothers.

Morgan Wakefield frequently upstages the leads as Tzipporah, transforming incredibly in less than a heartbeat from a sultry Carmen-like temptress into a fearless freedom fighter. Two different fires, both convincing. 

Indeed, the women in this epic, whether acting or dancing, balance against the men more forcefully than in the biblical narrative.

Among the Israelites, Leslie Roberts as Miriam, Miasol Yara as Yocheved, and Emmaline Davidson all have distinctive voices. At court and on the Nile, Manisha Parekh as Queen Tuya gives us the only reasons to believe that Rameses has inherited his softness and humanity from anyone, a devastating contrast with the hauteur and conceit lavished on Nefertari by the regal Octavia Nicole.

To be honest, Tristan Nogueira as the skeptical Aaron is nearly as adorable as he is pesky, the only real mouthpiece Schwartz and LaZebnik provide (other than choruses) of the effects of a lifetime of oppression. Meatier roles are doled out to the foreigners, beginning with Tyson Hamilton as Rameses’ dad, the stubborn and sickly Pharaoh Seti.

Before Moses is equipped with his staff and God’s mighty arm, all the personal grandeur falls to the patriarchal priests. Keith Logan gives us a wonderfully fanatical Hotep, leading an entire nation and army to ruin (remind you of anybody?), and Zee Sierra as Jethro, Tzipporah’s graciously welcoming papa, makes for an awesome high priest of Midian, a fount of truer philosophy and religion.

Plenty more spectacle and grandeur come from the works of scenic designer Paul Swanson, lighting designer John P. Woodey, and the wondrous costume designs by Chelsea Retalic and Beth Killion. Photos of this production only capture a portion of the wonder.

Read more of Perry Tannenbaum’s local theatre coverage here

If you didn’t already know, Schwartz wrote two other biblical musicals before he wrote Wicked, his most famous work. We’ve now seen all three of his adaptations in Charlotte: Godspell, Children of Eden, and The Prince of Egypt. 

Every work in this trilogy can be treasured.