Musicals often feature a pivotal song, strategically placed to evoke deep emotions just before the narrative concludes. In Miss Saigon, this emotional core might be Kim’s poignant lullaby or the Engineer’s yearning for the American Dream. This carefully crafted moment of emotional resonance is a hallmark of successful musical storytelling. However, not all musicals rely on this formula in the same way. Some, particularly those in the realm of film like Disney’s Tangled and Frozen, or jukebox musicals, distribute their musical numbers differently. These productions often front-load the music, reserving the latter half for plot resolution. Think of Moulin Rouge! – after a dazzling barrage of musical sequences, the plot concerning Christian and Satine takes center stage. Even in Mamma Mia!, despite ABBA’s extensive catalog, there isn’t a song specifically designed for Donna to grapple with the paternity mystery, highlighting the varied roles music plays in different musicals.
However, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee utilizes songs to intricately develop its characters throughout the performance. Each musical number serves as a window into a character’s psyche and motivations. “I Speak Six Languages” is Marcy Park’s declaration of identity; “Woe Is Me” encapsulates Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre’s pressures. Yet, the musical frequently returns to Olive Ostrovsky, a character study subtly woven through the narrative. Olive, embodying the quiet isolation common among many of the spellers, initially sings of her steadfast companion – her dictionary. Her gentle demeanor and voice immediately charm the other contestants, highlighting her vulnerability amidst the competitive atmosphere. Many of the spelling bee participants grapple with familial or adolescent pressures. Leaf Coneybear struggles to stand out in his accomplished family; Logainne buckles under the weight of her parents’ ambitions; Chip Tolentino navigates the awkward onset of puberty, and William Barfée embraces his quirky individuality. Olive exists in this spectrum, her challenges nuanced and deeply emotional.
Olive reveals in song that her mother is at an ashram in India. Her tone isn’t overtly mournful but tinged with a quiet resignation. The empty chair she reserves symbolizes a hopeful, albeit fragile, connection. Her father’s absence is more palpable. Another empty chair awaits him, arrival uncertain, perpetually delayed by work. He is also, crucially, meant to bring the spelling bee registration fee, unpaid and adding to Olive’s quiet anxieties. A phone call further underscores his absence, pushing back his arrival indefinitely. Then, her word is called: “chimerical.” Seeking clarity, Olive asks for the definition. “Unreal, imaginary, visionary, wildly fanciful, highly unrealistic.” The definition triggers a poignant question: “If I go to Washington, will I be on my own? Because if I go to Washington, who will be my chaperone?”
In a theatrical flourish, Olive’s parents materialize – figures embodied by Rona Lisa Peretti, the spelling bee moderator, and Douglas Panch, the word pronouncer. They emerge to address Olive’s unspoken pain and loneliness, revealing their own struggles with depression. Her mother sings, “I love you. I love you. I love everything about you, dear,” echoed by her father’s simple, “I love you.”
(Hauntingly, after his first “I love you,” Olive says, “And my dad says:” Nothing makes it more clear that this scene is unreal, imaginary, wildly fanciful.)
I think Dad is angry, Mom, and I do not know what to do./Mama, mama, mama, shanti, shanti, and om/I think he takes out on me/What he wants to take out on you./Mama, mama, mama!/How I wish you were home, how I wish you were home, how I wish you were here.
The song unveils a deeper layer of Olive’s emotional state. Her initial composure is a façade. We learn of her quiet act of packing as her mother prepared to leave, a child’s silent plea for connection. Her questions about her mother’s return and her father’s displaced anger hint at a turbulent home life, the specifics intentionally vague yet deeply unsettling. Is her father’s absence from the spelling bee a consequence of his wife’s departure? The original article poignantly suggests the possibility of darker interpretations, raising questions about the nature of Olive’s home environment. The parents’ subsequent reassurances – pride, praise for her achievements, declarations of love – feel inadequate, failing to address Olive’s core need for presence and emotional support. These words, while ostensibly loving, do not resonate with her profound loneliness.
The author of the original piece reflects on the complexities of parenthood but critiques the choice to leave children for extended periods. Olive, in this context, isn’t an orphan but feels abandoned, a distinction underscored by the song’s emotional weight. The author’s cynicism towards idealized homecomings of soldiers is used as a parallel – actions, not words, define love. Prioritizing duty or career over family, in this view, reveals misplaced love.
“The I Love You Song” becomes a narrative of parental priorities skewed away from their child. Olive’s mother’s pursuit of spiritual escapism and her father’s potential martyrdom (to work, to his own issues) eclipse their daughter’s emotional needs. While love might exist, something else takes precedence. This, the article argues, is a relatable sin, capturing the silent understanding of many young people who sense they are not their parents’ primary focus. In the landscape of emotionally impactful musical theatre songs, “The I Love You Song” stands out for its delicate yet profound exploration of childhood loneliness and the subtle heartbreak of feeling secondary in the eyes of one’s parents. It’s a poignant melody that resonates deeply with anyone who has ever yearned for unconditional and unwavering parental presence.
