The progression of a naive but talented waif who, through good people skills and sheer lucky breaks, becomes a star, is a time-honored one for Broadway musicals, but rarely has that scenario been more oddly put forth than in Taboo, a show by, about and starring Boy George (nee George O'Dowd) -- only he doesn't play Boy George. Instead he plays Divine-like downtown muse Leigh Bowery, who, with his outre garb and makeup, made himself a kind of living art, and thus inspired George's own star-making makeover. Taboo traces Boy George from penniless club-hopping wannabe to Culture-Club hitmaker to pathetic coke fiend to likeable survivor, and in so doing, tries to capture a brief, not terribly proud era in London youth culture.
On the strongly positive side, Boy George's music here proves not only catchy but germane to the story (to George's great credit, he wrote a full score, rather than simply opting to run a string of his hits together, a la Buddy or Mamma Mia!). As for the good cast, Euan Morton is a believable lead, Raul Esparza injects Cabaretish pizzazz into his role as a club veteran, and George himself is an acceptable, if pallid, recreation of Bowery. The trouble with Taboo is that the various storylines run parallel to each other without intersecting. The George story is too familiar to be surprising, the portrayal of Bowery makes him seem like a selfish whiner without any of the magic he must have spun to be so beloved, and the charismatic Esparza feels either overused for a minor character or underused because we want more of his presence. Most damagingly, we're never given a strong enough reason to root for all these people. They want to be famous and fabulous and big within the club scene, which may have been enough for 1980s nightlife, but it's not sufficient for a libretto. As a result, the evening feels like an odd pageant, often inspired but rarely great, and the ugly set design should be taboo, rather than in it.
