My 14-year-old child and I were fortunate enough to get tickets to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on Broadway on Wednesday, August 15, 2018. Several members of the original London cast performed, including Anthony Boyle’s career-making turn as Scorpius Malfoy and Noma Dumezweni as the first, but not the last, black Hermione.
The cast’s chemistry and timing were exceptional. Many viewers have reported preferring the experience of watching the stage play over reading the script, since the story is made to be shown onstage rather than read and imagined. I agreed with this take in several instances: Ron, who comes off as a buffoon on the page, was more grounded onstage. The tenderness between Ron and Hermione was more evident. I could see some chemistry between Scorpius and Rose, whereas on the page, it feels flat to me. Hermione’s towering ill temper as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a home run.
The visuals are stunning. The dementors are beautiful, even if frightening. The classic gold and black glow of Dumbledore’s portrait evokes just the right majesty. And if any costume makers feel like making me a version of Hermione’s costume with that lustrous purple pleated skirt, I’m all for it.
I may be remembering this wrong, but I think when I saw the play in London last August, Scorpius and Albus faced away from the audience when catching their first glimpse of Hogwarts from the forest, so that we shared their perspective. On Wednesday, I found it striking when Scorpius and Albus faced forward while struck speechless by Hogwarts, unable to deny its beauty even though they had both suffered there. They looked into the audience and marveled. We were Hogwarts. They were looking at us. All of us watching them, rapt: we were the magic. That gave me chills.
My favorite revelation was watching Scorpius, Albus, and Delphi turn themselves into Harry, Ron, and Hermione for the scene with the bookcase. It had been a thrilling scene to read in the script, but watching it onstage confronted me powerfully with just how badly Albus must have wanted to know how it felt to be his father. Nothing in Albus’s life has the glamour or daring of the tales of his father’s adolescence, and he and Scorpius think of themselves as losers who mess things up. But if they pretend to be Harry and friends, they can magic themselves into different people who are accustomed to nonstop adventures and quests. There’s so much longing in their Polyjuice transformation.
Is it worth the trouble and expense to see Cursed Child? If you’re a Harry Potter fan, yes. Even if you hate the script or the plot. The magic works. You’ll feel it.