FEATURE: My Hero Academia’s Latest Stage Show Reignited My Love of Theater
Photo: Liam Dempsey
Cruising down the escalator from The Galaxy Theater to catch the Rinkai Line, my legs ached from a lengthy standing ovation after walking 20,000 steps earlier that day; my hands throbbed from raucous applause and frequent clap-alongs; my ears rang from screeching guitar shreds, ensemble anthems and the occasional operatic. Yet there was a spring in my step and my fingers tapped to a musical imprint on the handrail because there was a reborn love in my heart.
Before I get any more poetic about a superhero stage show featuring a fully cloaked actor operating an anthropomorphic mouse with their legs… let’s retread the hero’s journey that led to My Hero Academia The “Ultra” Stage: The Greatest Hero.
As an ex-high school theater kid and purveyor of cheeky Shakespeare references, attending such a production has long been in my sights – especially when colleagues describe recent news like ONE PIECE ON ICE ~Episode of Alabasta~ castings as “Liam-core.” Although there are a few recordings of live shows available to watch legally online (for example, Persona5 the Stage), I held out for getting my first taste of this particular experience in all three dimensions since the atmosphere and audience engagement is a pivotal part of the appeal.
After jumping through the hurdles of purchasing a ticket (which included needing a friend in Japan and a visit to a FamilyMart), I was ready to see what was an invigorating show jam-packed with raw action and extraordinary detail.
Setting the Stage
One thing first: Like all live events in Japan, photography was expressly forbidden, so you’ll have to bear with me dusting off my set drawing skills. Compared to preceding shows that took place at Tokyo Dome City Hall, the production had much more space to work with and made sure none of it went to waste. And the ramps were attached in such a way that they could be pushed back and forth.
A full-height trio of sheets positioned downstage allowed for stage divisions and projections; more were partially draped over centerstage and another just above the upstage ramp, behind which was another screen. Projections included simple backdrops and 3D animations, as well as pre-recorded performances from the actors and montages.
As for additional set items, two bunkbed-like structures worked as raised platforms and mini-sets themselves (more on that later), tall sliding panels helped smoothen transitions, a front-facing climbing ladder led to a rostrum, and a sturdy pile of cubes formed walls, doors, steps and debris, working with a range of in-and-out props that included everything from streamers to a microwave.
And thus, we lay our scene for the opener: All Might defeating All for One and passing on his legacy as the strongest hero and Symbol of Peace.
Plotting a Takeover
Image via Cinemas+
Picture this: The main projector sheets hang low, but All Might hangs even lower at downstage-center. Spotlights come to life behind his haggard figure, revealing Deku and Bakugo behind the sheets on each ramp and illuminating an assembled cohort of Class 1-A members in a plume of smoke. All Might’s bloody triumph plays out as the music swells and the wannabe heroes harmonize about their own herodom; another spotlight shines on a reporter and cameraman at downstage-left as the No.1 hero points towards them while their view is broadcast on the screen behind him: “Tsugi wa kimi da.” (“It’s your turn.”)
Chills. Unbelievable chills.
From there, a “The Story So Far” sequence chronicling Deku’s hot-and-cold relationship with Bakugo and face-off in the indoor battle trial plays out before the show’s main event to really put the audience on the edge of their seats: Class 1-A moving into dorms to banger chants of “It’s a new life!” and finding out who has the best room.
Slice of life took up a good portion of the first act’s runtime, but that’s exactly where the show’s varying production elements, character appreciation and blistering pace really went Plus Ultra.
Image via Cinemas+
To use the dorm sequence as an example (adapting chapter 98 of the manga and Season 3, Episode 13 of the anime), the two bunkbed-like structures were cycled in and out as changing dioramas to the flexible pace of a musical track that every Class 1-A member had at least a line or two. The inner projection screens and standalone props were used for representing comparatively minor characters or rooms that would’ve been difficult to fit the breadth of personality into a small space, such as Jiro’s array of instruments. What was an intimate side-story in manga and anime remained intimate even on a massive stage through the sheer amount of revolving detail.
But if you’re the type of fan who comes for the bang, boom and zoom, then the Provisional Hero License Exam segment and the Bakugo-Deku duel had everything.
Image via Cinemas+
Iida sprinting down the upstage ramp in his trademark toy soldier style, Sero’s stage-spanning tape trap, an extra smoking and collapsing from getting “hit” by Ashido’s acid, and giant fingers for Seiji’s attachment issues were just some of the practical highlights during the Provisional Hero License Exam’s battle royale. Thogh my favorite was Camie. How do you do a goopy body transformation live on stage? By subtly shifting one of the stage lights positioned in the gap under the upstage ramp for her to slip into behind a held-up sheet – much like the social media video trend pulled on pets and small children–and reemerging moments later.
To cap off that dynamic act, just as I was lamenting the lack of musical hits, the Help Us Company came in with their own dedicated number (and a Ginyu Force group pose) that had me reeling with giggles. Oh, and at Aoyama’s iconic “you like him, don’t you?” being a slow, drawn-out operatic lead-in to Uraraka’s pining solo.
As for the conclusive duel between Bakugo and Deku, there was a contrastive rawness to it. Just body on body with a minimal amount of flashy lighting, carried by Shin Tamura and Ryota Kobayashi’s physicality in rebounding off setpieces and doing flips off ramps. Even in moments like this with only a primary focus for the audience, the entire space was utilized to sustain the level of energy.
How you use silence in theater, or any audiovisual medium, is an underrated trope that I’m an absolute sucker for as a viewer and creator. For all the violence and anthems in the last two hours, there was at least a solid minute of near-silence between Deku and Bakugo as they were on cleanup duty. Just the heavy “vrrrr” of two vacuums positioned at opposing ends of the stage before being broken by a heartfelt moment (or as heartfelt as it gets between them).
I could gush on and on about the outstanding direction of each and every scene, but I’ve got to move onto highlighting the real MVPs of the show: the performers.
Nailing the (Superhero) Landing
Image via Shin Tamura (Deku) on Twitter
With an ensemble as wide and diverse as My Hero Academia‘s, finding cast members who can bellow lyrics while tearing up the boards dressed as hero students, teachers, villains and professional victims is no easy feat. Hell, I felt exhausted just looking at them. They were all so visibly into what they were doing and perfectly in character, from speech patterns to micro-mannerisms, that it made me miss performing myself.
In an article I penned a little over four years ago when the Hollywood live-action film adaptation was announced, I pondered the question of how My Hero Academia‘s extreme array of body types and quirks could possibly be feasibly depicted in live-action without being unnatural or hideous CGI. The “Ultra” Stage: The Strongest Hero obviously gets a lot more leeway with the suspension of disbelief, yet most costumes (Koji’s head was frightfully iffy) and quirk representations were surprisingly grounded yet fittingly cartoonish.
Mineta’s weird head: A shiny plastic bauble hat. Tokoyami’s dark side: Chinese dragon dance-style under a long black sheet. Hagakure’s transparency: Uniform items on the end of sticks attached to a cloaked performer. Asui’s tongue and Ojiro’s tail: Detachable attachments that were quickly yoinked off-stage once used. Aoyama firing his naval laser skyward: A ninja footstool was there to support his back. The theatrical creativity throughout was astounding, largely thanks to the ensemble cast.
Image via Cinemas+
The six “All-Rounders” – or what I called “metamorphs” in a James Bond spoof play I co-directed in 2016 – were instrumental in shaping the show’s comprehensiveness and fast-paced efficiency. On top of taking the brunt of moving set pieces, they donned quick-change outfits for Principal Nezu, Ms. Joke, henchmen, literal props and more. If I could play any role in this show, it’d absolutely be an All-Rounder.
Aside from the aforementioned performers, there were individual actors for primary UA teachers and Shiketsu High School students. Present Mic, in all his lack of grace, acted as a narrator of sorts throughout, orating and gyrating directly at the audience while also leading a duo comedy act with Aizawa, who only got five seconds in his sleeping bag to sleep it off, during mini-intervals. Yokumiru oversaw the Provisional Hero License Exam segment in a similar manner, but the All-Rounder tucked under a lectern and made to follow his absent-minded wandering like a sapient pearwood chest stole the show.
Image via Cinemas+
For all the impressive physical feats from wing to wing, it’s the little happenings in the corners that made the show soar. Even while key events were underway, there was almost always another character-driven story being told, like Aoyama getting a stomachache and being consoled by two classmates, or Jiro fighting with her parents at upstage-right while All Might bowed his head to Deku’s mother downstage-left. It speaks to both the level of care given in the production and the density of personality that makes the original material such a global phenomenon. It wasn’t until this show that I seriously appreciated how recognizable My Hero Academia characters are just by the way they hold themselves and their gait, which of course goes back to the level of care in the direction and dedication of the actors.
I can only describe My Hero Academia The “Ultra” Stage as a despicable villain in how it takes your attention hostage to demand your eyes and ears for the full two and a half hours, spiting my usual struggle to stay focused on anything for that length of time. I must admit it was a little bit too much to keep up with at times, but I also greatly respect how much they wanted to give their audience for their time.
Seeing Stars and Stripes
Image via Cinemas+
It may seem silly, but I actually almost cried during the opening number and the following one. Worn down from a very long day of tourist activities without much space for myself, reliving my high-school passion in such an explosively new way was nothing short of rejuvenating. Not just for my body, but for my long-stagnant creative soul as well.
If My Hero Academia The “Ultra” Stage: The Strongest Hero is any indicator of the level of care and detail given to any stage play adaptation, then I can’t recommend going to one for any of your favorite properties — should it get one and you’re able to navigate ticketing — enough. My freshly initiated takeaway is that it’s just about the most concentrated level of appreciation for a franchise’s depth of character and quirks (pun intended) that you can experience.
Der shy man behind @Shymander, Liam is a timezone-fluid Aussie with a distinct fondness for anime, Eurovision and creating odd stats projects despite hating math.
