Created by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton premiered Off-Broadway in 2015, before the term “woke” became a cultural lightning rod, though its diverse casting and hip-hop-infused score certainly helped pave the way for broader discussions on representation in theater and beyond. The play quickly gained notoriety for blending hip-hop, R&B, and classic Broadway into a retelling of the life of Founding Father Alexander Hamilton. While its casting choices and lyrical complexity reshaped expectations for what Broadway could be, watching it in 2025, the cracks in its mythos are hard to ignore.
Much of the show's musicality hinges on rapid-fire raps packed with historical references and character exposition. But even for those familiar with hip-hop, the lyrics were often difficult to decipher in the live setting. For audience members less accustomed to the genre, it likely proved impenetrable. This reviewer, who came of age in early-2000s New York hip-hop scenes and studied The Federalist Papers at Columbia University's Alexander Hamilton Hall, still struggled to catch more than 60% of what was said.
That’s a problem, especially for a show that prides itself on historical storytelling. And it’s not just about what’s said—it’s about what isn’t. Hamilton biggest weakness may be in its historical selectiveness. Though it presents Hamilton as a scrappy abolitionist outsider, historians have pointed out that he had financial ties to slavery through his in-laws, the Schuyler family, and may have facilitated slave transactions. These details are mostly glossed over in favor of a redemption arc that frames Hamilton as a modern liberal hero.
While the musical’s framing of the Revolution through a diverse cast has been widely praised, it can feel hollow given the show’s failure to acknowledge the contributions or existence of enslaved and free people of color during that era. The decision to cast actors of color as the Founding Fathers may subvert traditional imagery, but it also risks sanitizing history, allowing modern audiences to engage with sanitized versions of complex, often morally compromised figures.
That said, Hamilton still delivers strong theatrical moments. The climactic third act, particularly the emotional showdown between Hamilton and Aaron Burr, is as riveting as ever. The duel scene—anchored by the lines "I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory" and "The world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me"—finally provides the emotional and philosophical clarity that earlier acts often struggle to reach.
The standout performances came from Paul Louis Lessard as King George III, whose sardonic delivery of “You’ll Be Back” and other royal numbers had the audience howling, and Kendyl Sayuri Yokoyama as Eliza Hamilton, whose angelic voice and emotional depth added gravity to every scene she was in. Her renditions of “Burn” and “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” were among the night’s most affecting moments.
The standout performances came from Paul Louis Lessard as King George III, whose sardonic delivery of “You’ll Be Back” and other royal numbers had the audience howling, and Kendyl Sayuri Yokoyama as Eliza Hamilton, whose angelic voice and emotional depth added gravity to every scene she was in. Her renditions of “Burn” and “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” were among the night’s most affecting moments.
Technically, the show remains a marvel. David Korins' scenic design, Howell Binkley’s lighting, and Andy Blankenbuehler’s choreography still dazzle. But the lightning-in-a-bottle effect the show once had has dimmed slightly in the harsh light of modern scrutiny. The rapid pacing, though once thrilling, now often comes at the expense of clarity. And the show’s approach to history, once seen as revolutionary, now feels incomplete.
In the end, Hamilton remains a theatrical feat—a high-energy, genre-blending spectacle with powerhouse performances and infectious rhythm. But its revolutionary sheen has dulled with age. As audiences become more discerning about representation and historical accountability, Hamilton finds itself caught between being a bold new vision and a nostalgic echo of a cultural moment that has already moved on.
For those seeing it for the first time, Hamilton may still feel like a revelation. For those returning - or those with a deeper grounding in history and hip-hop - the shine may have worn thin.
Hamilton runs at the San Diego Civic Theatre through May 18. For tickets and more information, visit broadwaysd.com.
In the end, Hamilton remains a theatrical feat—a high-energy, genre-blending spectacle with powerhouse performances and infectious rhythm. But its revolutionary sheen has dulled with age. As audiences become more discerning about representation and historical accountability, Hamilton finds itself caught between being a bold new vision and a nostalgic echo of a cultural moment that has already moved on.
For those seeing it for the first time, Hamilton may still feel like a revelation. For those returning - or those with a deeper grounding in history and hip-hop - the shine may have worn thin.
Hamilton runs at the San Diego Civic Theatre through May 18. For tickets and more information, visit broadwaysd.com.
Originally published on May 7, 2025.
