Relationship Spotlight: Aaron Burr & Alexander Hamilton (Hamilton)

(Bizarrely, I couldn't find any Burr-Hamilton shots from the show itself.  That's okay, though - this one is so fun!)

More than rivals, more than friends turned enemies, more than two men whose shared stories culminated in a duel.  The show does a tremendous job at showing the manifold ways in which Hamilton and Burr mirror, foil, and contrast with each other.

From the start, Hamilton wants to emulate Burr.  Not due to who Burr is, but what he’s done – like Burr, Hamilton wants to accelerate his studies and graduate early, but he’s run into red tape and is looking for some pointers.  When he finds out that Burr, like him, is an orphan, Hamilton immediately takes him up as a kindred spirit; he longs for the coming revolution as an opportunity for them to show that they’re “worth more than anyone bargained for.”  It doesn’t make a difference to him that he’s penniless while Burr was amply provided for, or that he’s an illegitimate immigrant while Burr’s family was highly respected.  In this, he feels, they’re the same, and he imagines that Burr’s fight for distinction is no different than his own.

But just as quickly – in the same number, in fact – we see the huge philosophical differences between them.  While Hamilton is all nervous energy, flashes of brilliance, and impassioned verbosity, Burr offers his new friend his own personal recipe for success:  “Talk less. / Smile more. / Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.”  Hamilton can’t wrap his around this wait-till-the-dust-settles attitude, and even as the two begin to move down similar paths, this difference defines how each approaches it.

Hamilton is the sort of man who debates in the street for sport, who itches to command his own unit in the war, who writes volumes in defense of the Constitution because he believes in it.  He doesn’t think twice about putting himself (or, especially, other people’s opinion of him) in jeopardy for what he feels is important.  Not that his fervor is entirely idealistic; in part due to his obscure beginnings, he wants to make a name for himself, and he’ll risk an awful lot in service of that goal.  Meanwhile, Burr is just as hungry to rise, but his means of getting there are, at the same time, not especially particular but highly cautious.  He holds back until he can “see which way the wind will blow,” at which point he aligns himself, not necessarily with the side that matches his own beliefs, but the one that will position him most advantageously.  Even as Hamilton butts heads with the Democratic-Republicans, Burr switches parties and becomes one in order to better advance his career.  When Hamilton – and other politicians – criticize Burr, it’s to say that no one knows what he actually believes, because he shifts with the tide.

But while Burr’s guarded approach is more calculated for success, it’s Hamilton who more readily finds it.  Burr can’t understand this.  To him, Hamilton bursts into any situation with the subtlety of a wrecking ball, alienating potential allies with his polarizing ideas and unshakeable belief in his own rightness.  And it’s true that Hamilton makes enemies like they’re going out of style, but it’s also true that he has ideas, that he does the work required, and that his passion can win him support as well.  As Hamilton reminds Burr, “When you got skin in the game, you stay in the game, / But you don’t get a win unless you play in the game.”  No risk, no reward.  But Burr can’t see this.  He sees it as Hamilton (“the bastard orphan immigrant” who doesn’t deserve the chances he gets) strong-arming his way into Burr’s rightful opportunities with his smart mouth and relentless prodding.  This is the ultimate wedge driven between them, the insurmountable conflict that proves their undoing.