Review: I'm Almost There, Todd Almond's Big Apple Odyssey

Performer, composer and toast of New York Todd Almond is leaning over his piano, staring out into the crowd while dressed in an outfit that makes it look like he’s about to engage in a spot of semi-amateur carpentry. The left elbow leans on the lid, the right hand casually plays chords as Almond looks audience members in the eye, beginning his tale.

It starts mundanely enough – a cheeky meet-cute in a Tribeca apartment sows the seeds for an endearing romance. The guy, Guy, is telling Almond of a near-death encounter as the duo decide to wander through Manhattan. They part after a coffee – Almond sheepishly entering his apartment, Guy spurning the offer of a kiss. The next day, however, he’s back with another coffee – a u-turn – and he buzzes up and asks Almond to let him in. Almond, jubilant, begins to trek down to get him. Until, that is, things take a turn for the unexpected.

What follows is a fantastical, enthralling bout of magical realism. As Almond descends through the levels of his building, like some Greek hero forced to wade through wild, uncharted waters, he encounters ghoulish oddities. There’s a “sexy beast” neighbour who plucks at his most carnal desires while also exacerbating his self-loathing, a paranoid neighbour fearing for her cat’s life, that self-same cat, haunting the underworld, that is actually 53 per cent Almond’s mother. There’s even an actual vampire obsessed with vintage movies.

It sounds abstract, enigmatic, self-indulgent almost, but with a sing-song sorcery Almond and his co-performers Erin Hill and Luke McCrosson weave a unique, melancholic tapestry. Like the subject of some great folk tale, a contemporary Fairie Queene protagonist, Almond fends off threats, dangers and temptations, exposing his own personal limitations in the process. The writing is colossal, awe-inspiring yet surprisingly fragile – like a melting glacier sliding down a mountain.

Almond’s compositions, aided by Jonathan Mastro’s superb music supervision, bolster and augment the shades and themes ticking underneath the text. Hill’s use of harp is particularly stirring – more harps on stage please.

Produced by the audiobook behemoth Audible and Baby Reindeer’s Francesca Moody, Almond’s tale already looks destined to have a hearty future – which is brilliant news, because this is really a testament to the power of musical storytelling. I wish I could go back and re-live it fresh all over again.

[Ed. note: I’m Almost There will be presented off-Broadway at Audible’s Minetta Lane Theatre this fall.]