One of the unexpected joys in Broadside the Musical is also one of the sneakiest acts of rebellion. Before any tea is dumped or shots are fired, we get a backstage glimpse of the revolution literally being stitched together: three women quietly spinning wool and sewing encrypted messages into the lining of a petticoat while Dr. Joseph Warren stands in the middle of the room wearing it like the world’s most dignified dress form. He’s a celebrated physician and future martyr, but in this moment he is also an extremely patient mannequin, blushing while Abigail, Mercy, and Sarah tug at seams and argue about where to hide the secrets.
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| Dr. Warren discussing how to sew homespun messages with the Needle Guard |
That upstairs tableau does a lot of work. On the surface, it’s pure visual comedy: the serious young doctor perched in borrowed skirts, the Needle Guard completely unfazed as they turn him to check the fit, one of them still calmly spinning homespun as if this is just another Tuesday in occupied Boston. But underneath the laughter is a sharp little thesis about who’s really moving the revolution forward. While the men give speeches and plan meetings, it’s the women who know exactly which seams nobody checks, which hems can carry lines of code, and how homespun can turn into a weapon as quietly as a whisper.
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| Paul alerts the group that two Red Coats have entered the tavern |
The chaos really takes off when Paul Revere bursts through the upstairs door, out of breath, pointing down toward the tavern: there are redcoat patrols below, and they’re asking who’s been meeting above the Green Dragon. In a different show, this might be the start of a chase. In Broadside, it’s the start of a farce. Mercy doesn’t panic; she pivots. “Then it’s not a meeting anymore,” she decides. “It’s a performance.” In a heartbeat, the petticoats and spare cloth become costumes, the broadsides become a script, and the secret network turns itself into a theatre company.
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| The groups decides to perform one of Mercy Otis Warren's plays |
What follows downstairs is the audience favorite: “A Most Loyal Masque: THE GOVERNOR’S FANCY!” Paul is shoved into a mop wig and tablecloth cape to play a buffoonish stand-in for the royal governor, while the Needle Guard step out as his would-be brides under delicious pseudonyms. The redcoats at the door think they’re getting free tavern entertainment. Instead, they’re watching a piece of guerrilla satire written in the spirit of Mercy Otis Warren, only this time the “closet drama” is happening in a room full of ale and laughter, right under their noses.
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| Beggar (Phillis Wheatley) recites poetry and presents the Green Dragon Players |
The comedy lands on multiple levels. There’s the obvious physical humor of Paul trying to be grand in his makeshift robe while one “lady” is rejected for having too many opinions, another for writing too much, and the last for singing so magnificently off-key that the soldiers practically beg her to leave. But there’s also the delicious irony that every time he pompously kicks a woman “out” of his court, he’s actually escorting a spy, with messages stitched in her clothing, safely past British patrols. The redcoats roar, the tavern howls, and half the rebellion quietly slips out the door.
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| “THE FEMALE PATRIOT” lectures Paul (Governor Hutchinson) to "Remember the Ladies" |
Seen together, the intimate upstairs plotting and the rowdy downstairs satire, the photos from this sequence capture something essential about Broadside: the revolution isn’t just muskets and manifestos, it’s also costume changes, bad singing, nervous giggles, and women who know how to weaponize a corset seam. The audience laughs because the scene is genuinely funny, but they also laugh with the giddy recognition that wit and theatre can be as dangerous as any musket. In Broadside, liberty doesn’t just march; sometimes it limps out past the redcoats in a borrowed petticoat, trying not to laugh until it’s safely around the corner.
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| Paul acting as the Governor kicks out “THE FEMALE PATRIOT” |
