The night I attended The Book of Mormon was not just another show on Broadway. It was a milestone, a celebration, and a farewell. This particular performance marked the final bows for Cody Jamison Strand, Keziah John-Paul, PJ Adzima, and Lewis Cleale – with Cleale closing an incredible fourteen-year chapter as an original cast member in the role of Joseph Smith and the Mission President. It was an evening filled with laughter, heart, and a sense of history in the making.
For anyone unfamiliar with the show, The Book of Mormon was created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the same minds behind South Park, along with Robert Lopez, co-creator of Avenue Q and Frozen. With that creative trio, you know exactly what you are in for. The musical is a sharp-edged satire that spares no sacred cow, gleefully skewering organized religion, cultural misunderstandings, and the contradictions of missionary zeal. It is bold, profane, and absurdly funny. Yet beneath all the irreverence, there is an undeniable sincerity that sneaks up on you, often when you least expect it.
This is not a show for everyone. It features adult language, sexual references, and scenes that can easily offend more traditional audiences. But that is part of its design. The musical uses humor as a mirror, exposing both the innocence and the arrogance that accompany belief. It dances on the edge of offense not because it wants to shock, but because it wants to reveal how fragile and funny human conviction can be. That balance – between laughter and reflection – is what makes the show endure.
On this special evening, the energy was electric from the first moments of “Hello!” The cast performed with the intensity and joy of people who knew they were part of something meaningful. The ensemble was tight and full of vitality, the choreography crisp and polished, and the comedic timing razor-sharp. Every number landed with explosive laughter from the audience.
Cody Jamison Strand, who has long been one of the definitive Elder Cunninghams, was spectacular. His performance carried the perfect blend of childlike enthusiasm, insecurity, and wild improvisational charm. Strand’s comedic instincts are second to none, and his chemistry with the rest of the cast reminded everyone why this role is so beloved. Keziah John-Paul, as Nabulungi, brought a luminous presence and a powerhouse voice that lifted every scene she was in. Her portrayal had heart and honesty, especially in a show that could easily lean too far into parody. PJ Adzima delivered a lively, confident performance, rounding out the dynamic with a balance of humor and heart.
And then there was Lewis Cleale, taking his final bow after fourteen years in the show. Watching him was witnessing Broadway history. His performance carried both authority and warmth, the mark of a performer who knows every corner of his role and still finds freshness in it night after night. His farewell was met with thunderous applause and a standing ovation that lasted long after the curtain fell. It was a moving tribute to a performer whose dedication helped shape the very identity of this musical.
The music of The Book of Mormon remains as irresistible as ever. It is rare to find a score that can combine catchy pop hooks with biting satire, but this one does it flawlessly. Songs like “I Believe,” “You and Me (But Mostly Me),” and “Hello” stay in your head long after the show ends. They are joyful, funny, and surprisingly emotional, a reminder that satire can sing as well as sting.
What struck me most was how the humor never completely overshadowed the heart. Beneath the outrageous comedy lies a genuine affection for humanity’s constant search for meaning. The missionaries’ naive optimism, the villagers’ frustration, the clash between faith and reality – all of it points to a simple truth: people want to believe in something. The musical may poke fun at that instinct, but it never dismisses it.
As the final curtain fell and the cast took their last bows, the emotion in the theatre was palpable. Laughter had filled the night, but what remained was gratitude. Gratitude for the performers, for the story, and for the audience who came to share in it. It felt like saying goodbye to a friend who had been making people laugh for more than a decade.
The Book of Mormon may not be for everyone, but for those willing to embrace its audacity, it offers an unforgettable evening. It is loud, brash, hysterically funny, and oddly moving. On this night, with these final performances, it also became something more – a celebration of theatre itself, where laughter, irreverence, and heart find the same stage.
Brian Brijbag 