With a Pulitzer Prize and Tony Awards already under its belt, A Strange Loop arrives in Toronto with enormous buzz and critical acclaim preceding it like a spotlight. So as I sat down to watch the show, I found myself wondering: what could I possibly add to the conversation around a show that’s been so widely hailed as revolutionary?
To start, I can confirm that the Canadian premiere, co-produced by The Musical Stage Company, Soulpepper Theatre, Crow’s Theatre, and TO Live, is anchored by a stellar cast and an unflinching commitment to the show’s raw, confessional heart. At the centre is American Malachi McCaskill, playing the role of Usher for the third time, and delivering a paradoxical performance that is at once tender, sardonic, and brazen yet vulnerable. Usher is a young Black queer writer working as an usher at The Lion King. He is trying to write a musical about a young, Black, queer writer . . . who is trying to write a musical about a young, Black, queer writer, who is . . . This dizzying recursion is both clever in its psychological ramifications and central to the show’s thematic core.
For, true to its title, A Strange Loop is a self-perpetuating spiral of identity, self-loathing, and unrelenting inner dialogue, which is interrupted and controlled by six Thoughts who appear on stage. These manifestations of Usher’s self-doubt, fear, shame, and longing are played by a truly superb ensemble of Sierra Holder, Amaka Umeh, Matt Nethersole, David Andrew Reid, Nathanael Judah, and Marcus Nance. Equal parts Greek chorus and pop cabaret, they hector McCaskill’s Usher individually and collectively for his fears, self-doubt and self-loathing – while swirling and shimmying around him, their movements enhanced by Chris Tsujiuchi’s rocking band. At key moments, all of the Thoughts might play the same role: for instance, by channelling Usher’s recollections of his challenging mother or tough, beer-drinking, bathrobe-wearing father. Umeh is especially magnetic in bringing bite and brilliance to Thought 2, while Holder offers a potent but more understated counterbalance as Thought 1.
The production takes full advantage of the venue, using the space not just as a stage but as an extension of Usher’s inner world. The immersive design choice deepens the audience’s proximity (sometimes discomfitingly so) to the psychological terrain of the piece. Brian Dudkiewicz’s set is composed of sleek black panels that glide in and out, onto and off the stage to create momentary spaces and separations. It functions almost subliminally, echoing the stream of intrusive thoughts flitting through Usher’s mind. These shifting elements blur the line between the external and internal, anchoring a world where identity, memory, doubt and anxiety are in constant motion.
During multiple numbers, McCaskill stands and emotes on stage – a stillness that contrasts markedly with the hyperkinetic energy of the Thoughts dancing, pressing, and pulsing around him. This static core of a fiercely up-tempo musical is both striking and disorienting – but director Ray Hogg uses it to underscore Usher’s sense of paralysis. Usher is stuck in the strange loop of his own self-questioning: immobilized not by lack of awareness, but by the weight of internalized oppression, and the counterbalance of social and familial expectations vs his own ambitions. In the show’s glorious songs and in his cutting exchanges with the Thoughts, it is clear that Usher knows exactly what he’s up against: anti-Black racism, fatphobia, homophobia, and religious guilt. The tragedy is how fully he has absorbed those forces, and how much energy it takes for him just to survive their echo.
Ultimately, what sets A Strange Loop apart isn’t just its meta structure (which is wild) or musical innovation (which is dazzling), but its brutally candid, brutally funny voice. This show has all the trappings of a big Broadway musical, but uses that big-number, big-character-arc structure to speak unflinching, lacerating truth to the power of faith, body shame, family trauma, and the commodification of Black queer pain. The show’s profane, shocking honesty and humour will speak directly and resonantly to some audience members – while pushing others far out of their comfort zones. For those who stay with it, the show rewards in spades: with moments of aching vulnerability, deep insight, and defiant joy.
Hogg and the creative team handle the material with boldness, precision and respect – allowing the themes to reverberate and the performers to shine. Author Michael R. Jackson (who was himself an usher when he wrote the musical) has long insisted that A Strange Loop is not purely autobiographical. Rather, it is a reflection of the contradictions and loops that come with forging your self in a world that insists on defining you. Ignore the awards and accolades that A Strange Loop has amassed and which may seem to define it – and this Toronto production reminds us why the maverick show struck such a chord in the first place, and why it continues to matter.
The Canadian premiere of A Strange Loop runs until June 1, 2025, at Young Centre for the Performing Arts. Information, including content warning, and tickets are available at soulpepper.ca.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine 2025
