Tale as old as time: a gloomy Gus comes to learn the true value of Christmas. From Ebenezer Scrooge to The Grinch, from George Bailey to Bill Nighy’s dissolute rocker in Love, Actually, you can be sure that before the finale, a doubter will join a joyful chorus of carol singers and huggers. Lots of huggers. (Love, Actually, you may recall, ends with a full-screen hug montage.)
Both the 2003 holiday perennial Elf, and its stage musical version, are no slouches in the joy and hug departments. And by the end it’s the entire city of New York that becomes infused with the spirit of the season. What sets Elf apart from your run-of-the-mill holiday yarn is the wry, even cheeky wit originally provided by screenwriter David Berenbaum, and fine-tuned by five-star librettists Bob Martin (The Drowsy Chaperone and others) and Thomas Meehan (Hairspray and others).
An air of droll humor, supported by Chad Beguelin’s sharp lyrics, cuts through any treacle and keeps sentimental balderdash at bay. (When asked why no reindeer any more, Santa blames PETA.) Elf is smart Christmassing, meaning that the lavish attraction on view at the Marquis is verbally adroit enough to keep the adults engaged, while the kids ooh and ahh at some of the most eye-popping spectacle in town.
Buddy, the 30-ish human raised as an elf at the North Pole but now thrust into the real world, could be insufferable in the wrong hands. He must burst into every scene full of glee and naive wonderment, yet every bouncing ball must roll to a stop once in a while. Even more than original star Will Ferrell in the film, Grey Henson knows the value of stillness. He can warble and kick up his heels with the best of them, but just as suddenly utter a sincere sentiment to touch the heart. You’re never sure when he’ll dial things up to 11 or simply listen and react, which keeps his performance interesting from start to finish.
Happily remembered from Mean Girls a few seasons back, Henson isn’t the only cast member providing a welcome return. Seems like only yesterday a strapping Sean Astin was hauling Frodo up Tolkien’s mountains of Mordor, so it’s slightly disconcerting to have him step into Ed Asner’s Santa role. Time flies! Anyway, he’s relaxed and charming in his Broadway bow, and even gets to toss in a Lord of the Rings quip to the delight of children and Boomers alike.
Buddy’s human dad and stepmom are ably handled by Carousel‘s erstwhile Billy, Michael Hayden, and Mary Poppins’ erstwhile Mary Poppins, Ashley Brown. Hayden in particular grounds the show in emotional truth by channeling James Caan’s unapologetically workaholic from the film. (He of course gets the lion’s share of 11th hour hugs.) Young Kai Edgar looks to have it all going for him as Buddy’s stepbro, and I can’t wait to see powerhouse Kayla Davion in a more substantial role than Buddy’s love interest. Tart and delicious, she deserves a stronger solo than the flyweight “Never Fall in Love (With an Elf),” one of two numbers that get act two off to a slowish start. (The bulk of the score is cheerful indeed, and “A Christmas Song” turned into an immediate earworm as I walked down Eighth Avenue, thanks a lot, composer Matthew Sklar.)
Elf has made several Broadway and West End appearances since 2010, but it’s hard to imagine it more spectacular than as marshalled by director Philip Wm. McKinley (The Boy From Oz). All of Tim Goodchild’s sets are appealing, backed up by forced-perspective projections adding startling grace notes throughout; meanwhile, I’d be surprised if there was any more primary-color fabric in Manhattan after Goodchild got through having his costumes built. Liam Steel knows how to choreograph a showstopper and does so multiple times, leading up to, by my count, four finales that include snow and flight, caroling and tap dancing. And yet it’s never too much, for my taste anyhow. If we must have Christmas shows, let them all be as professional and good-hearted and smart as this one.
Elf opened November 17, 2024, at the Marquis Theatre and runs through January 4. Tickets and information: elfonbroadway.com
