In the glittering chaos of Times Square, where Broadway lights bleed into the night sky like neon confetti, something audacious is shaking the foundations of classic theatre.
Enter “& Juliet,” a millennial fever dream wrapped in sequins, heartbreak, and banger after banger. This isn’t Shakespeare as you know it—this is Shakespeare after a shot of espresso and a glitter bomb to the face. And honestly? It’s about damn time.
Created by David West Read—yes, that Emmy Award-winning genius behind Schitt’s Creek’s perfectly quirked-up humor— “& Juliet” rips apart the greatest love story ever told and stitches it back together with pop anthems and unapologetic self-love. The question is simple: What if Juliet didn’t fall on Romeo’s sword but instead, rose up, dusted herself off, and rewrote her own damn story?
Cue the music. No, seriously—cue Max Martin’s glittering arsenal of millennial pop that blasts through the theater like a confetti cannon. Britney, Katy, Backstreet Boys—this soundtrack isn’t just a playlist; it’s a cultural resurrection.
The audience isn’t just watching; they’re vibrating in their seats, mouthing every lyric like a secret spell. Every beat is a war drum for autonomy, every note a battle cry for anyone who’s ever been told to stay in their lane.
Beneath the glitter and the bops is a heartbeat—a raw, pulsing demand for agency. “& Juliet” dismantles the tired narrative of love as martyrdom and says, loudly and proudly, that love—in all its messy, beautiful forms—should empower, not consume.
Love is love. Period. Whether it’s Juliet falling for herself or exploring new flames, the message is clear: happiness isn’t a man; it’s a choice.
The show itself is a kaleidoscope of color and chaos, a sensory overload that feels less like traditional theater and more like stumbling into the most liberating party you’ve ever been invited to. The costumes? A punk-rock fantasy dipped in Renaissance drama. The set? Bold, brash, and bursting at the seams with energy. And the cast? Absolute forces of nature—commanding the stage with a wink and a battle cry.
Juliet doesn’t need saving. She doesn’t need a tragic ending or a star-crossed excuse. She needs a dance floor, a killer outfit, and the kind of autonomy that would make Shakespeare clutch his pearls.
“& Juliet” isn’t just a musical. It’s a defiant middle finger to outdated narratives and a champagne toast to second chances. It’s the type of show that makes you want to throw on your best heels, scream-sing your favorite breakup song, and unapologetically own your space in the world. Love, loss, empowerment—it’s all here, glitter-dusted and loud as hell.
So, grab your crown, adjust your eyeliner, and get ready to rewrite your own ending. Because Juliet did—and damn, it’s glorious.
