The final curtain fell on the world premiere of Purple Rain at Minneapolis’ State Theatre on Sunday, November 23, 2025 — not with a bang, but with a hush. The audience, still trembling from the last notes of "When Doves Cry," didn’t clap right away. They just sat. Some cried. Others whispered prayers. It wasn’t just a show. It was a homecoming. For forty years, Prince’s 1984 film and album turned Minneapolis into a cultural legend. Now, after his death in 2016, the city got to see his story told on stage — for the first time, in full, with his music, his soul, and his scars.
A Show Born in Minneapolis, For Minneapolis
The Purple Rain stage adaptation opened on October 17, 2025, with no previews. No soft launches. No test runs. Just 2,150 seats at the State Theatre on Hennepin Avenue, packed with fans who’d waited decades for this. One woman told KARE 11, "I’ve been waiting 40 years for this to happen." Another, a man in his late 50s, said, "Prince’s music was one of a kind when it first came out in the 80s... He’s on the soundtrack of my life." And that’s what made this different from any other musical. It wasn’t a tribute. It wasn’t nostalgia. It was resurrection.The production, officially titled Purple Rain™, was built by a dream team of artists who understood the weight of the task. Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, the Pulitzer and Tony-winning playwright, wrote the book. Lileana Blain-Cruz, a Tony-nominated director, shaped the vision. Jason Michael Webb, the Tony-winning music supervisor, reimagined Prince’s tracks — not as karaoke, but as living, breathing theater. And then there were the guardians: Bobby Z, Prince’s original drummer and founding member of The Revolution, and Morris Hayes, longtime keyboardist for The New Power Generation. They didn’t just advise. They stood backstage, watching, nodding, sometimes wiping their eyes.
Why Minneapolis? Why Now?
The State Theatre isn’t just a venue — it’s a statement. At 2,150 seats, it’s nearly Broadway-sized. That wasn’t accidental. Hennepin Arts, the nonprofit behind the production, chose it because New York audiences won’t tolerate a show that doesn’t feel big enough. This was a trial by fire — and the fire was Prince’s legacy."This isn’t just a transfer," said one producer backstage after the final show. "It’s a test. Can a story about a Black, queer, Minneapolis musician — raw, vulnerable, brilliant — survive on Broadway?" The answer, so far, seems to be yes. The show sold out every night. Social media lit up with #PurpleRainMinneapolis. Fans from Chicago, Detroit, even London, flew in just to see it.
MPR News called it a "homecoming." And it was. The musical doesn’t just depict Prince’s rise — it places him in the very clubs he played: First Avenue, the 7th Street Entry, the old Minneapolis club scene that once felt like a secret. The set design, with its flickering neon and mirrored ceilings, recreated the haze of those nights — the smell of sweat and cheap beer, the echo of a guitar solo that made the whole room go silent.
Not Just Music — A Cultural Reckoning
This wasn’t a jukebox musical. Branden Jacobs-Jenkins didn’t just string together hits. He dug into Prince’s contradictions: the saint and the sinner, the genius and the broken boy. The show tackles addiction, exploitation in the music industry, and the loneliness of fame — themes that feel even more urgent today. EBONY called it a "2025 Reimagining," and they’re right. The original film was a product of the 80s. This version? It’s a mirror.Adult content warnings were posted: haze, strobes, and implied sexuality. But those weren’t gimmicks. They were necessary. Prince didn’t tiptoe. Neither should the show. One scene, where the lead character collapses after a drug-fueled performance, left audiences gasping. A mother in the front row turned to her daughter and whispered, "That’s what he went through. We didn’t know."
What’s Next? Broadway, But Not Yet
The production closed on November 23, 2025 — two days before Thanksgiving — to give the creative team immediate time to reflect. No dates, no theater, no ticket prices have been announced for Broadway. But insiders say revisions are already underway. A scene involving Prince’s relationship with his father is being tightened. The second act’s pacing is under review. The ending? Still debated."We’re not rushing," said a source close to the production. "This isn’t just another show. It’s Prince’s legacy. If we get it wrong, we don’t just disappoint fans. We betray him."
The tradition of Minneapolis as a Broadway proving ground continues. Disney’s The Lion King tested its early versions at the Orpheum Theatre before conquering New York. Now, Purple Rain follows suit. But this time, the stakes are higher. There’s no corporate mascot. No talking lion. Just a man, a guitar, and a city that never let him go.
Why This Matters
Prince didn’t just make music. He made space — for Black artists, for queer expression, for Minneapolis as a cultural capital. This musical isn’t about reviving a hit. It’s about reclaiming a narrative. For too long, Prince’s story was told by others. Now, his own city, his own collaborators, his own sound — they’re finally telling it. And if Broadway listens? It could change how we see musical theater forever.Frequently Asked Questions
Will the Broadway version of Purple Rain be the same as the Minneapolis run?
No — revisions are already being made. Sources confirm the second act’s pacing is being tightened, and a key scene involving Prince’s father is being rewritten for greater emotional clarity. The music remains unchanged, but staging and lighting cues are being adjusted for larger Broadway theaters. No official dates have been announced, but early targets point to a late 2026 debut.
Who were Prince’s music advisors on the production?
Two original collaborators served as Prince Music Advisors: Bobby Z (Robert B. Jones), the founding drummer of The Revolution, and Morris Hayes, longtime keyboardist for The New Power Generation. Both were present for every performance in Minneapolis, offering real-time feedback to the creative team. Their involvement ensured the music stayed true to Prince’s intent — not just his sound, but his spirit.
Why did the show have no preview performances?
Producers chose to skip previews to preserve the authenticity of the premiere. With Prince’s estate closely monitoring the project, they feared early audience reactions might pressure changes that diluted the artistic vision. Opening night on October 17, 2025, was the first full public performance — making every show in Minneapolis a true world premiere.
How did Minneapolis audiences react compared to other cities?
Minneapolis audiences were more emotionally charged. Many attendees had lived through Prince’s rise — some even attended the original First Avenue shows. KSTP News reported that over 60% of ticket buyers were from the Twin Cities. The response wasn’t just applause — it was catharsis. One man said, "I lost my brother to addiction. This show is the eulogy we never got."
Is this musical appropriate for children?
No. The show contains adult themes including substance abuse, sexual content, and psychological trauma, with theatrical effects like strobe lights and haze. The producers advise against bringing children under 14. The original film was rated PG-13 — this stage version is unapologetically R-rated in tone and content.
What makes this musical different from other Prince tributes?
Unlike past tributes that focused on hits and costumes, this is a narrative-driven play using Prince’s music as emotional punctuation. The story follows a fictionalized version of Prince’s early career — his struggles with family, industry exploitation, and identity. It’s not a concert. It’s a biography set to funk, rock, and soul — and it dares to show the darkness behind the glitter.
1 Comments
There’s something sacred about how this show didn’t try to glorify Prince-it showed his fractures, his silence, his exhaustion. Most biopics sanitize. This one let him bleed. And Minneapolis, of all places, had the guts to hold that mirror up. I don’t think Broadway is ready for this kind of honesty. But maybe it needs to be.
Prince didn’t just make music. He made a language only the broken could speak fluently. And now, for the first time, the world is learning to listen.
That scene where he walks away from the studio after being told to ‘tone it down’? I’ve been there. Not as a musician, but as someone who was told to shrink. This isn’t nostalgia. It’s a reckoning.
I’m not from Minnesota. But I felt like I’d been waiting my whole life for this play to exist.
Let’s not turn this into a merchandising spectacle. Let it be what it is: a quiet, aching monument to a man who refused to be owned.
They didn’t cast a Prince lookalike. They cast his soul. And that’s why it hurt so much to watch.
They say art changes people. This? It changes cities.
I’ll be flying to New York if it opens there. Not to see a show. To witness history.
And if they change the ending? I hope they don’t make it happy. Prince never did.
Some legacies aren’t meant to be polished. They’re meant to be carried, raw, in the chest.
Thank you, Minneapolis. For not letting him be a ghost.