“I & YOU: THE MUSICAL”: McCarter Theatre Center and Olney Theatre Center are presenting the World Premiere of “I & You: The Musical.” Directed by Artistic Director Sarah Rasmussen, the musical runs through October 12 at McCarter’s Berlind Theatre. Above: high school student Anthony (Benji Santiago, left) visits classmate Caroline (Jasmine Forsberg), ostensibly for help with a school project, but the connection between the two proves to be much deeper. (Photo by T. Charles Erickson)
By Donald H. Sanborn III
Not words, not music or rhyme I want,” writes Walt Whitman in “Song of Myself.” Nevertheless, he is getting all three — fortunately, with pleasing results. Whitman’s poetry is a central thematic and plot element of I & You: The Musical, which is receiving its world premiere at McCarter.
Playwright Lauren M. Gunderson writes the musical’s book, which is adapted from her 2013 play of the same title. Gunderson proves to be a capable librettist, demonstrating a willingness to edit her play so that songs can carry adequate story and character weight.
The score by composer and lyricist Ari Afsar deftly picks up where the dialogue leaves off. The lyrics borrow from both Gunderson’s script and Whitman’s poetry, while the music borrows mainly from pop rock and jazz (the latter is used sparingly, saving it for a key moment in the story).
Artistic Director Sarah Rasmussen, who directed the play’s premiere at Marin Theatre Company, also directs the musical’s debut. The considerable talents of the cast and creative team are used to great effect, gradually letting the characters’ (literal and philosophical) worlds expand.
The offbeat coming-of-age story depicts two teenagers who are brought together, ostensibly by a school project. Caroline (portrayed by Jasmine Forsberg) is a high school senior who is confined to her room due to congenital liver disease — she needs a transplant — and has not been able to attend classes for a long time.
Anthony (Benji Santiago) is a classmate of Caroline’s, who visits her in the hopes of soliciting her help with his homework: poster about Whitman’s poetry. Anthony is a basketball player who is revealed to have several other interests.
During the pandemic, the original play received multiple Zoom readings. This is unsurprising, given the themes of illness and isolation. Other themes include the importance of literature and music, and the extent to which all life is interconnected.
The crisp music direction is by Sujin Kim-Ramsey, who has penned the musical arrangements in collaboration with Afsar. Aided by Elisabeth Weidner’s sound design, the orchestrations by Yair Evnine and Afsar aid in giving the score a youthful, edgy — in crucial moments, almost otherworldly — sound.
In addition to conducting, Kim-Ramsey plays keyboard. She is joined by Alicyn Yaffee (guitar), Brittany Harris (cello), Paul Cuffari (bass), and Mitch Bowers (drums).
After a steady, affable but insistent instrumental introduction, we hear the acerbic Caroline singing an eponymous song of herself. In an immediate link to the plot element of the poem, we see her writing in a journal.
“The fake smile’s wearing thin,” she sings, growing impatient with the polite “lies that I’m doing fine.” A brisk, sturdy tempo and rapidly repeating bass notes highlight the character’s restlessness, as does the rhyme scheme. “Just play it cool for Mom,” Caroline advises herself, “cause she’ll start to freak, when she sees me so weak.”
Beowulf Boritt’s lavishly detailed set firmly emphasizes that we, and Anthony, are visitors (or intruders) into Caroline’s world. Her cozily cluttered room is wallpapered with posters, the windows framed by holiday lights. (Underlining a key piece of her mood, the door is obstructed by a yellow “Do Not Cross” banner.)
Caroline’s soliloquy is interrupted by the arrival of Anthony, whose first line is a Whitman quote, set to music by Afsar: “I and this mystery here we stand.” Subsequently he explains to Caroline, “Your mom sent me up.” Anthony, a classmate with whom she is vaguely familiar at best, needs help designing a poster based on Whitman’s poetry.
Kara Harmon’s costumes underline the characters’ contrasting personalities: Caroline’s outfit, with its artfully busy patterns, echo her room; while Anthony’s plainer, minimalist clothes match his calmly straightforward, earnest personality.
Guided by Rasmussen and Movement Director Steph Paul, the actors are consistent in letting body language further underscore the differences between their characters. Forsberg’s movement for Caroline often is sharp, fidgety, and defensive; while Santiago lets Anthony’s motions be smoother and more deliberate.
The actors’ voices, too, demarcate the characters while creating a pleasing musical blend. Forsberg’s mezzo-soprano belt, which she lends to “Caroline” and “Spotted Hawk,” complements Santiago’s smooth baritone, with which he delivers the jazz-flavored “Dream with Me.” The voices are lovely together in the duet “Every Atom” (whose title and lyrics borrow from Whitman).
For about the first third of the show, little changes in the relationship between the two students. The barbed Caroline is irritated by Anthony’s intrusion and does not feel like participating in the project. (She does insist on connecting with him via social media, which lately is her sole connection to the outside world.)
The debonair, sincere, Anthony promises to leave as soon as the project is complete, and tries to persuade her to engage. She reluctantly agrees, mainly because she thinks his poster is a mess in its current state.
This dynamic goes on for as long as it can, almost letting the audience wonder if it is going to evolve. As amusing as the teens’ banter is, it might start to become monotonous had the creative team not taken care to maintain a brisk pace with plenty of movement.
But Caroline finally relents just enough for the relationship to develop, and that is when the surprises begin — and the design team has an opportunity to work plenty of eye-filling theatrical magic. Among other things, we discover that Caroline drives comfort from a toy turtle that projects an illusion of stars, and that Anthony is passionate about jazz.
Aptly for a musical, an interest in music helps to develop a bond between the characters, as Caroline also has a musical passion. In the original play she is an aspiring photographer (an element not completely absent here); in this version she is an aspiring songwriter.
During “Dream with Me,” Projection Designer Stefania Bulbarella frames the stage with images of a city lit by neon at nighttime. At one point Anthony ventures beyond the confines of Caroline’s room; it is a beautiful meditation on the ability of music and imagination to transport us beyond our physical location.
Elsewhere, Caroline turns on the lights inside the toy turtle, at which point Lighting Designer Japhy Weideman sprinkles the entire stage with stars that, via projections, are animated outside of the set. We realize that the two characters, in that one room, still are part of a larger world.
The blending of live action with video of the same thing (which Caroline is capturing via her phone’s camera) makes for another dazzling series of stage pictures. This and other sequences beautifully highlight the show’s themes of cosmic interconnectedness.
I & You: The Musical initially leads us to believe that it is a fairly standard (if idiosyncratic) teen dramedy, not unlike the John Hughes films of the 1980s; but this is theatrical sleight of hand, because it evolves into something much deeper.
Like the unique bond between the two protagonists, this musical — and McCarter’s beautifully performed and designed premiere — is by turns funny; moving; and, especially at the end, surprising.
Directed by Artistic Director Sarah Rasmussen, “I & You: The Musical” runs through October 12 at McCarter’s Berlind Theatre. Starting September 25 McCarter is introducing a 2 p.m. Thursday matinee. Post-show discussions will follow the matinees on September 25 and 27. McCarter announces that $35 tickets are available to all patrons age 16–35. For tickets or additional information, visit McCarter.org.

