It's a primal rite of passage for virtually every ninth-grader: ogling at the projector screen in English class while watching the 1996 adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, starring Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio. What else would you expect when you put a bunch of angsty, chatty teenagers in front of a steamy film about two lovers who marry the day after they first meet? As you’d guess, the back of the classroom was alive with snarky remarks from witty students eager to comment on the dramatic entanglement between the Montagues and Capulets.
But what if those remarks were spun into an alternate plot where Juliet finds Romeo dead and chooses not to follow him in death, but instead breathes a sigh of relief, ready to run off to Paris and live the life she’s always dreamed of? A feminist ending crafted by none other than Anne Hathaway — Shakespeare’s wife? I know, it sounds like a mouthful, but seeing it unfold in the hit Broadway musical &Juliet would have definitely satiated my pop-culture-obsessed ninth-grade class.
Truth be told, I’m not a huge fan of musicals. In fact, I tend to be more critical of them, particularly when the seemingly arbitrary singing pulls me out of the narrative and disrupts the immersion. But when I saw an all-expenses-paid trip to New York City to see a Broadway musical advertised on my dorm's bulletin board, I thought, why not? Maybe this comedic parody on a classic I knew too well could change my mind.
Was the play anything like the quick-witted comments that once left me doubled over in laughter as a freshman? Yes and no. I was actually a bit nervous that the blend of contemporary music would make the jukebox-style show feel chaotic, but the singing was phenomenal. As someone with limited experience listening to live music, the vocal control blew me away. The costumes were also cleverly designed — imagine a girls’ night out but with a Renaissance twist, which was essentially the vibe of the entire set.
As for the substance of &Juliet? Well, it was decent. While entertaining on a surface level, it fell short in delivering a genuinely nuanced message of empowerment. The play attempts to give Juliet a more independent narrative by transforming her into a modern "girlboss" figure — someone who rejects her romantic affair with Romeo and instead chooses to live a liberated life. However, this empowerment feels shallow. The term "girlboss," often associated with a type of surface-level feminism, suggests that simply rejecting traditional romantic roles equates to female empowerment. This can come across as reductive because it implies that autonomy and strength are defined by distancing oneself from relationships or conforming to a commercialized version of independence.
By framing Juliet’s empowerment in such a light, the play runs the risk of promoting a "checklist" version of feminism — where empowerment is about being single, carefree and indulging in stereotypical notions of freedom, like partying. This feels subversive because it trivializes the complexities of feminism and womanhood by reducing them to a set of clichés. In reality, feminism is not about rejecting relationships or embracing a life of partying; it’s about autonomy in a more profound sense, including the right to choose meaningful relationships, professional fulfillment, or even traditional family roles, if that's what someone wants.
On a personal level, this portrayal is especially problematic when viewed through the lens of someone, like myself, who grew up in a strict household, much like Juliet. In these environments, romantic autonomy is often restricted, so the idea that Juliet’s liberation is achieved by fleeing traditional expectations could have held deeper resonance. Yet the play's one-dimensional take strips this complexity away. Rather than exploring the tension between tradition and autonomy in a way that could be empowering for someone in a similar situation, it chooses to present empowerment as a superficial escape, which feels regressive and limiting.
With that being said, &Juliet is a lighthearted musical, not a political manifesto. Musicals are often designed to entertain rather than challenge deeply ingrained societal structures. In this context, the play's decision to approach feminism from a simplified, upbeat angle might not demand strict adherence to ethical stances, but it’s worth noting that these portrayals contribute to universal cultural narratives and, even in entertainment, can reinforce problematic ideas about what empowerment looks like.
While the musical may have stumbled in its portrayal of empowerment, there were undeniably bright spots, particularly in the character of Anne Hathaway. Her presence in the play offered a refreshing feminist perspective by subtly challenging the legacy of “great men” like Shakespeare, highlighting how the women in their lives were often the true backbone of their fame. This reappraisal was handled with nuance, making it one of the more successful elements of the production. The musical numbers, too, were impressive, especially for someone like me, who finds musicals a challenge to immerse in. Hearing Katy Perry's "Roar" as the final number was unexpectedly moving, tapping into a deep well of nostalgia from my childhood. It was a reminder of how pop culture, even in its most commercial form, can create connections to personal memories and identity.
As a woman of color, I was particularly struck by the casting of Maya Boyd in the lead role. Growing up with limited POC representation in the media, seeing a Black woman take center stage felt incredibly affirming. Boyd’s performance was not only vocally stunning but also a powerful statement about the growing inclusivity on Broadway stages — something that would have made my ninth-grade self just as giddy as I felt watching her now.
Despite its flaws, &Juliet succeeds in delivering an entertaining, visually impressive and culturally resonant experience that speaks to the progress being made in the theater world, even as it grapples with modern ideas of empowerment.
Aima Raza is a sophomore in the School of Industrial and Labor Relations. She can be reached at ar2548@cornell.edu.
