Monte Cristo—with book and lyrics by Peter Kellog and music by Stephen Weiner—is billed as “a new musical,” but that may be a misnomer. As presented at The York, the production almost instantly and closely resembles an anachronism: an operetta. It looks, feels and sounds like something plucked from, say, a century ago when composers, lyricists and librettists (more typically known today as “bookwriters”) were interested in exploring this sort of well-known contemporary source for their hummable purposes.
That is, of course, something like Alexander Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, written and serialized from 1844-46 and published in 1846 (as Le Comte de Monte-Cristo) and quickly adapted by Dumas for the stage. (There is no indication that this one ever became an operetta, as did, say, beloved sources like Rip van Winkle and The Vagabond King.)
Taking in this Monte Cristo, observers wouldn’t be blamed for feeling as if they were not in 2026 but back in 1926 and having a sufficiently agreeable time of it. For, you see, the adaptation gives the impression it’s been created as a paint-by-the numbers operetta endeavor.
As librettist, Kellogg follows the Count of Monte Cristo plot carefully: protagonist Edmund Dantès (Adam Jacobs), who claims to have no political beliefs (and so from the start seems oddly shallow), is identified as a Bonapartist by three men looking to benefit from their lies. As a traitor of the times, he’s imprisoned for nineteen years but escapes after eighteen and after having been successfully tutored by rich prisoner Abbe (Danny Rutigliano). On the fly he collects the fortune the now deceased Abbe promised him in a hidden will he knows to locate.
Leading to the second act when now the Count of Monte Cristo, Edmund wages revenge on the corrupt first-act trio. Simultaneously, he searches for his one-time fiancée, Mercedes (Sierra Boggess). She, however, has long since married Fernand (Daniel Yearwood), one of those conniving villains, and has raised a son of uncertain fatherhood. The other villains?: Villefort (Norm Lewis) and Danglars (James Judy).
In any operetta (opera or musical as well) it’s the music—the songs, arias, call them what you will)—that demands immediate attention. For Monte Cristo, Kellogg and Weiner come up with a consistently pretty score. But pretty is one thing and not, with only one or two exceptions, quite beautiful, gorgeous, rapturous, the signature of the best operettas.
The songsmiths do find a rousingly romantic Mercedes-Edmund duet for closing. (If a show finishes strong, that’s always a major boost.) Also, there is one extremely amusing comedy song, “You Sent Me This,” it’s called and cleverly reprised from a different angle.
Where Monte Cristo can truly claim myriad production plusses is among the cast and creatives, as knowingly directed by Peter Flynn. Performers are forever lauded for raising the level of material several feet or even more, and here a simple rundown of the troupe is highly promising. When Boggess and Jacobs are present to give the love songs a go, the results are golden. For further brilliance there’s Lewis, whose voice and charisma are well-documented—as are the voice and charisma of James Judy in one of the villain roles.
Playing the comic secondaries, a married couple coming and going throughout called Carconte and Caderousse, are Karen Ziemba and Rutigliano. One of Broadway’s highly skilled vets, Ziemba doesn’t tap here as she used to all the rhythmic time, but she’s become a proficient character woman and generously displays as much here. More power to her. Rutigliano is unflappably boisterous as a gentleman’s aide and becomes equally persuasive as the savant Abbe.
Oh, yes, Ziemba appears briefly as poison-dispensing Lucrezia Borgia. She doesn’t tap here, either, unless tapping something toxic into a glass counts. Others calling the right kind of attention to themselves are Stephanie Jae Park, Kate Fitzgerald, Madison Claire Parks—well, all the hard-working gang occasionally carrying out Marcos Santana’s sturdy group choreography.
As for the creatives, set designer Anne Mundell has an ominous prison cell up-stage center and to its left an arch through which can be glimpsed Shawn Duan’s atmospheric projections. Stage left is a curtained stage that gets plenty of use when the curtains are withdrawn. Alan C. Edwards lighting and Joanna Lynne Staub’s sound complement the set and significantly give Monte Cristo the look of something that belongs on Broadway, if that’s the ultimate goal. David Hancock Turner underlines the score’s urgent moods at the head of a seven-member musical contingent.
In the mood to see and hear an operetta when they’re hardly ever remembered in faster moving times? Here’s precisely what you may be eager to find out about.
Monte Cristo opened March 19, 2026, at the Theatre at St. Jean’s and runs through April 5. Tickets and information: yorktheatre.org
