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preview of the show. I mean people who came from Brazil and came from Japan. I remember warming up and it kind of hitting me that these people had been listening to her iconic version of it for twenty-five years. And I was about to do it really differently.

I got on stage and did the song and people stood up, and no one expected it at all. And then as previews continued, it kept happening to the point where there was some work done tech-wise of trying to change the lights.

“We put so much energy out from
the stage that it gives people
this permission to return it to us.”

Yes, at first Diane Paulus and the lighting team tried to dim the lights so people wouldn’t stand, but then they kept standing anyway! Now the moment is built into the show.

Now it’s been adjusted so that it’s a stage manager cue. Our stage manager Ira Mont susses out what the audience reaction is and then cues us to move forward with the next scene. I really didn’t expect it to continue for Broadway. It’s so rare and so kind of ludicrous for it to happen that, yeah, I just never expect it. And there’ve been audiences for the Broadway run who haven’t stood and it doesn’t feel like a letdown or a disappointment because there’s always a huge wave of energy from the audience. I think we put so much energy out from the stage that it gives people permission to return it to us.

One of my other favorite moments of yours is when you sing “Your House,” a secret, acapella track that Morissette put on Jagged Little Pill about sneaking into an ex’s house when he is away. In your case, Jo is sneaking into Frankie’s room, where she finds her there with Phoenix.

Yeah, it’s like this slow motion horror movie. I love “Your House” so much. I know that there is no place for the full song in the show, and I also so much wish that there could be because it’s so good. I think that it was always important to honor that Alanis was bad-ass enough to put this acapella number after three minutes of silence on her record. What a weird thing to do, and it is so great! It was sort of a mind fuck as an actor, because the song is naturally melancholy, and is written from the perspective of somebody who knows that the relationship is over. I finally was able to

tap into it as Jo by using the suggestion that Larbi and Diane gave me, which was thinking that I’m going to Frankie’s to surprise her. Jo thinks, “I’m going to save it and I’m going to do something special for Frankie that makes her fall in love with me again.” And then of course it’s blown apart.

What makes Frankie’s betrayal so searing that Jo is driven to sing the ultimate revenge anthem with “You Oughta Know”?

I think it is the particular betrayal of fleeing to a straight

relationship from something that is queerer. I mean, there was an old line that used to be in the scene before “You Oughta Know,” where Jo said, “Congratulations, Frankie, you finally fit in.”

I remember the excitement of changing the lyric to “and you can have his baby” (from “would she have your baby”) because I think it is really queering the song. It ties into that part of Jo who is a queer person who is not yet super comfy in their queer identity. That’s been my own experience as I’ve come out. It’s not like you come out and then it’s like, now I’m queer and I feel super confident in it and I have no more questions! I think seeing Jo at this very vulnerable point in her experience of queerness being invalidated so callously by the one person who she thought understood is part of why the pain is so great, and why it was important to me to have the last line before going into the song, “Why would you take this seriously?” Why would you take this sort of nebulous queer person who isn’t super confident and isn’t super defined yet seriously, versus this charming, curly haired, cis-white-het dude?

As a queer woman yourself, what does it mean to bring a character like Jo so valiantly to the stage? She really gets to own her spotlight moment.

I think a lot of times media has a queer character dealing with external struggles that are very valid, but they know how they identify. They have known their identity since they were a kid, and they are dealing with a lot of pressure and blow-backs from that identity. What I don’t see, and what I crave, are stories of queer people dealing with their internal struggles around being queer and understanding how they want to move through the world as a queer person. So it’s a big joy for me to be able to bring a character like that to the stage.

And excuse me, but I think it’s very powerful to give a song like “You Oughta Know” to the queer character. I’ve heard a lot of people say, “I never thought they’d give that song to a queer person.” And getting to express the very specific pains and rage and needs to be heard by queer people through that song I think is deeply meaningful to audience members. I’ve gotten letters from people who have gotten the courage to come out to their parents by watching the show. I’ve gotten mothers and fathers and teachers at the stage door who are in tears because they finally understood something about their kids. So it’s been quite the privilege.

Why do you think the songs from Jagged Little Pill hold up after all this time?

Because they just slap. They’re just slapping bops! I think that more than anything, Alanis is an unbelievable lyricist, and that the songs touch something that is primal.