Yaasss, queens! In the style of our pop princesses, Henry VIII’s ‘Six’ wives lament their maligned marriages
“Divorced. Beheaded. Died. Divorced. Beheaded. Survived.”
That’s the sing-song British schoolchildren use to recollect the fates of Henry VIII’s six wives. Two were divorced, two beheaded, one died, and one survived.
Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss espouse the phrase to begin their inventive, electronic pop musical about the serial groom’s six wives — naming it “Six.”
The musical was written while Marlow and Moss were Cambridge University students, and first staged at the 2017 Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
“Six” turned Tudor history into a global pop phenomenon — both educational and ecstatic. Following its 2020 New York City premiere, and the run continues on Broadway, marking more than 1,500 performances.
If you can’t see “Six” on Broadway, where I recommend, there are national and international tours (including far-flung stagings in Australia and Korea). Even cruise ship productions. And in Salt Lake, the production is on stage of the Eccles Theater.
The infinitely clever musical “Six” is a feminist revisionist history/pop concert with the queens forming a group of pop divas, each telling her individual story through song in a competition, for “the queen that was dealt the worst hand shall be the one to lead the band. ” The most maligned and ill-used wife by history triumphs.
The sextet has been waiting for centuries to give some revisionist perspective on their demise, being wed to the cantankerous king. “So we picked up a pen and a microphone,” they sing. “History’s about to get over-throned. Divorced. Beheaded. Died. Divorced. Beheaded. Survived.”
The exuberant crown jewel songs were inspired by different real-world pop divas — Adele, Rihanna, Ariana, Avril, Alicia, Beyoncé.
The empowered, empowering queens take center stage and provide backup vocals while executing (excuse the pun) kinetic choreography.
My favorite wife, the headstrong, first-wed Catherine of Aragon, is played by Najah Hetsberger, in a Beyoncé-esque style. “You must think that I’m crazy / You wanna replace me? / Baby, there’s n-n-n-n-n-n-no way / If you thought it’d be funny / To send me to a nunnery / Honey, there’s no way/ No way.”
Singing the show’s only ballad, “Heart of Stone,” is Kelsie Watts as Jane Seymour. She belts like there’s no tomorrow: “You can build me up / You can tear me down / You can try but I’m unbreakable / You can do your best / But I’ll stand the test / You’ll find that I’m unshakeable.”
The most winning lyrics are “I wanna dance and sing / Politics / Not my thing,” sung by Gianna Yanelli, who brings a vivid personality and impeccable comic timing to the role of the playful, petulant Anne Boleyn. “Sorry, not sorry ’bout what I said / I’m just trying to have some fun / Don’t worry, don’t worry / Don’t lose your head / I didn’t mean to hurt anyone / L-O-L / Say ‘Oh, well!’ / Or go to hell.” Hawked by lobby vendors is the most popular sprightly purple “Sorry, Not Sorry” t-shirt.
As with a frenzied rock show, there’s a supreme live band. Generally six, but on tour there are four nimble players — on keyboards, guitar, bass and drums — are the Ladies in Waiting.
To inject queerness into the story, the authors stressed the importance that all the on-stage artists are female-presenting or nonbinary. (To date the cast has been female presenting, but surely popularity of the musical will soar if nonbinary J. Harrison Ghee or nonbinary/gender-nonconforming Alex Newell — each a history-making a Tony winner — took on a role!)
The dazzling “Six” rules a solid 10 on the entertainment scale. Long live the (dead) queens!
