It’s not unprecedented to have dark moments in a bio-musical.
Tina – The Tina Turner Musical documents the singer’s ongoing physical abuse at the hands of her husband, Ike. On Your Feet: The Story of Emilio & Gloria Estefan details the horrific tour bus crash that nearly left Gloria paralyzed for life. MJ The Musical dealt with the child abuse claims leveled at the superstar…oh wait…never mind. The Jackson estate forbade any mention.
Point is, just because there’s famous songs to sing along to and musical actors who serve as a kind of tribute act doesn’t mean that hard stuff can’t be addressed in these shows.
But man, does Neil Diamond take it to another level. A Beautiful Noise: The Neil Diamond Musical (book by Anthony McCarten, music and lyrics by Neil Diamond, who also collaborated on the show) forgoes one difficult stage of evolution and instead plasters the entire show with angst.
Not that it’s a bad thing. At least not if you’re being open-eyed and honest about Diamond’s demons and what was being communicated in many of the songs you and your boomer parents/grandparents adored. But it sure makes for a bumpy ride in a musical that whiplashes us from impressively bang-on musical numbers to the hurt, fear, loneliness and self-sabotage that’s baked into Diamond’s hits.
The framing of the show takes place in a psychiatrist’s office. An elderly Neil (Robert Westenberg) seeks the help of a therapist (Lisa Reneé Pitts) at the urging of his third wife and children. He’s become “hard to live with” and, not wanting to lose another family and marriage, Diamond is trying something different this time. Namely, looking inward instead of galloping forward.
Not that it’s going well. Neil doesn’t want to talk about any of it. Everything you need to know about me is in my songs, he quips. So peels the onion of the musical. By exploring the lyrics of his songs (fully sung throughout the musical, of course), he and the doc discuss the timeline of his life and the “clouds” that hovered over him the entire time.
The singing of those songs falls upon the younger Neil (Nick Fradiani), who plays Diamond from his early days writing hit songs for the Monkees and others, right up until he was bigger than Elvis, commanding never-ending worldwide tours.
From a costume/wig standpoint (Designed by Emilio Sosa and Luc Verschueren), this means going from slicked-back Elvis coif and black clothes to flowing, feathered locks and more sequins than a Vegas showgirl could boast.
For anyone wanting to get their Diamond on and feel like they’re seeing the real thing, you couldn’t ask for a better performer. I’ll admit that I’m old enough to have seen the man live (to be clear, I was very young at the time and I’m sticking to that story) and Fradiani is spookily similar.
“Gravel wrapped in a velvet voice” is how Diamond’s voice is aptly described in the show and Fradiani has that cadence and effect down pat. Close your eyes at moments and I dare you to believe it isn’t him.
What people may not expect or even appreciate is the Neil Diamond Fradiani is tasked with playing when not singing. A gloomy man full of insecurity and self-doubt. Never present or available to his first two wives (played by Tiffany Tatreau and Hannah Jewel Kohn). Unlikable and charisma-less. A cheater, a bad father, a man chasing fame to finally feel a sense of belonging. It’s messy, honest, and simply not nice.
Not exactly the man every person in the house is DYING to sing Sweet Caroline with.
But then whiplash sets in when Diamond explains how he came to write the song out of desperation and fear with a thankful spark of inspiration. Seconds later, though, any heaviness is forgotten as the entirety of the Hobby Center is invited to scream out So Good…So Good….. So Good….in a song that comedian Trevor Noah has astutely called “pure, uncut Caucasian joy.”
As elderly Diamond and his therapist wind down their session, and his songbook (we’re gifted with almost 40 songs in this show, and yes, all the hits are there), the pair circle around the musical’s supposed epiphany. What has Neil learned from mining his songs and his life stories? Does he know what he’s running from or running to?
Like most therapy sessions, they’re really only interesting to the person mining their own issues. So, it’s more than a letdown when, after almost two and a half hours of fly-on-the-wall sessions, we don’t get a concrete answer as to why Diamond is the way he is.
Instead, we get shades of anxious Jewish parents, maybe a kid that should have been medicated from the get-go, or perhaps just an artist that thrives on woe is me to excuse bad behavior—probably all the above and then some.
This non-epiphany is a bit of a wet blanket. Kinda like Neil himself is portrayed. But here’s that whiplash again. Would we muddle through the therapy sessions and an inconclusive ending to revel in superb Neil Diamond cosplay? To see spectacular performances of Cherry, Cherry, Cracklin’ Rose, I Am…I Said, and all the rest of that prolific songbook?
Hell yes. I’ve certainly been gleefully belting out Diamond’s songs since exiting the show. Now with a fuller understanding of the less joyful elements contained in them.
In a letter penned by Neil in the program, he states how open he’s been about his time in therapy, wrestling with his mental health. How he’s thankful that the stigma around seeking help has abated over the years.
Let’s hope audiences take away from the musical that good times never felt so good as when you do the work to get your head as healthy as the rest of you.
Performances are scheduled for November 4-9 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday, 2 p.m. Saturday, 1 p.m. Thursday and 1:30 p.m. and 7 p.m. Sunday at the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-315-7625 or visit thehobbycenter,org. $55-$265.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2025.