SIX started at 8 pm, giving me enough time to rest before the show. As I entered the theatre, I was already excited and headed straight to the souvenir shop, where I bought costume pins of Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour, as I knew them better than the other queens. The lady at the shop was smiling and watching me think over what to buy, and I was open (perhaps too much) and asked her if there was any sing-along. She said not that she had heard of, and I boasted that the licensed production in Korea had sing-along days. You can see my anticipation before the show even began.

As I sat down, I instantly noticed the surroundings were different from other Broadway theatres. It felt almost like a concert setting. The audience pool was also different from what I expected. Many seemed to be tourists visiting for the Thanksgiving holidays and were chatting about intermissions and English history. Well, this is part of the usual Broadway magic—people who walk into an available show and leave excited and fulfilled.

The Ladies-in-Waiting opened the show. The four-woman band—their power and charisma—filled the auditorium. I have always been partial to drums, and I especially loved the drummer, who slayed the sticks through the space with almost dance-like movements.

The six queens then came out, introducing themselves and setting the rules of their game. They were, in effect, teaching history to a novice like me. Catherine of Aragon dominated the others, even as they ridiculed her for being annulled and sent to a nunnery. She declared a competition to determine the best queen among them and invited the audience to decide. As they drew the audience into the show, I began to warm up to her rock-infused belting.

I thought I knew Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour, but their songs felt pessimistic and full of self-excuses, a little tame to my surprise. The performers themselves were superb nonetheless. The actress playing Anne Boleyn had exactly the right vocal color, with a nasal, seductive tone fitting the beheaded queen. Jane Seymour, who sang proudly of being a good wife who gave birth to a son—arguably the most important role for a queen—ended up making me feel sorry for her, especially knowing the history.

The fourth queen, Anne of Cleves, was my favorite. She rocked, she belted, she owned the stage, and the crowd erupted. I found myself yelling out loud along with other audience members—“yeah,” “nah,” and the like. It was allowed in SIX, or maybe not, but everyone did it anyway.

The fifth queen, Catherine Howard, appeared dreamy and mournful, and I learned that she too was beheaded. Come to think of it, this show turned out to be a rather frightening history lesson for me.

The final queen was dismissed by the others as having outlived them all and having been married multiple times before and after Henry VIII. She, however, declared the competition meaningless. I was ready to vote for the fourth queen and felt a little disappointed to lose that chance. But as all six sang together with explosive power, I forgot about voting entirely and simply enjoyed the musical as if I were at a concert. I sang along as much as I could, picking up bits of lyrics, shouting and feeling overjoyed.

My neighboring audience members kept saying, “This is better than I thought.” Indeed. I only wished I had studied the lyrics of the curtain call numbers beforehand to fully join in. As I mentioned earlier, I had read that the Korean licensed production had sing-along days, allowing audiences to sing all the songs and even providing lyrics for “Ex-Wives,” “Haus of Holbein,” “SIX,” and “MEGASIX.” I missed that experience this time but hope for the show’s return.

The show ran for 80 minutes in a single act—compact and energetic. Real power from six performers with power second to none.