Content warning: mental illness, alcohol use, incarceration due to mental illness

Is it the clothes that make a man, or is it something other than?

Based on the satirical Nikolai Gogol story of the same name, The Overcoat centres on Akakiy Akakiyevich, a diligent man no one likes, who works the numbers best he can. But he can barely pay the rent, and even though his landlady offers him something more than cabbage soup, Akakiy’s mind is elsewhere. Winter’s on its way, and Akakiy’s coat is tacky and more threadbare by the day.

He visits Petrovich the tailor, who though he might drink a sailor under the table, is sober enough to declare Akakiy’s coat not up to snuff; it’s unfixable. Akakiy begs, so Petrovich shifts gears, huffing his own snuff and declaring that Akakiy needs something new. Petrovich declares in fact that this moment is Akakiy’s chance to act. But after careful analysis of fact, his budget cannot budge enough, no matter how many cuts he calculates.

The next day at work, the head of the department has something to say. He saw a poor man the other day with a coat so frayed it got him thinking philanthropically. Just then, Akakiy stumbles in and ends up showing the head of the department his newly calculated, money-saving budget. Inspired, the head decides to pay everyone less, and gives Akakiy a bonus. Akakiy returns to Petrovich freshly rich. The coat can now be bought!

After a flurry of measurement, Petrovich and his wife announce the coat is made, and it’s beautiful beyond compare. Akakiy wears the coat to work and instead of snark, is shown the royal treatment. His colleagues fawn over his coat. Even the head of the department is entranced, and invites him to celebrate that very evening.

It seems things are finally amounting to something for Akakiy. His landlady warns him not to discount how shallow his coworkers might be. But Akakiy sees things differently. Just like the endless glasses of bubbly at the name day party, his new-coat persona goes to his head. Drunk, he winds up getting lost in a part of town he’s never seen. Two rough men, sensing easy prey, sucker punch Akakiy and steal the coat away.

Akakiy, devastated, goes to the police, but they’re apparently the wrong department. He heads upstairs to the Prominent Personage, who doesn’t help him either. Without his coat, he once again adds up to nothing; he placed his whole identity in the coat. He ends up in a mental hospital. But all is not lost.

In fact, it’s merely gone astray. Akakiy learns from the other residents that nothing is ever truly lost. He and his coat are reunited in the hospital, and Akakiy finally finds asylum from an uncaring, shallow world.

Composer James Rolfe is at his finest here, with the music offering incredibly intelligent yet accessible rhythm and flawless dramatic pacing. The drama unfolding on stage and in the music feel like real-time, perfect translations of each other. The harmonic language is largely tonal, diverse, and never beyond intuitive understanding, with some utterly delicious harmonies given to the three-person “mad chorus.”

Influences from the original Overcoat soundtrack (entirely pieces by Shostakovich) are never overt, but the jazz-like modulations and rhythmic intensity offer a subtle homage throughout. The final product is a work of endless detail, taut precision, and delightful melody.