Lovers of Golden Age musicals who moan they don’t make Broadway shows like that anymore are likely already aware of Schmigadoon! since its origins as an Apple TV+ series a few years ago. Me, I saw several episodes regarding the comical misadventures of two people somehow trapped inside a circa 1900s American town where every day cheerfully unfolds like a vintage Broadway musical. Yet, despite its clever songs and nice performances, the TV show soon seemed somewhat laborious to me, so I did not keep up with the series.
Schmigadoon! has now been smartly and successfully retooled as a full-fledged Broadway attraction that opened Monday at the Nederlander Theatre. The first season of the series condensed here into a classic two-act Broadway format, the whimsical Schmigadoon! content brightly crystalizes into stage existence as a fond, funny salute to old school musicals like Carousel and The Music Man as delightfully populated by an ensemble of expert performers.
This adorably dizzy show is anchored by Alex Brightman at his snarky best, whose disbelieving character, Josh, represents every straight man who can’t appreciate musicals but still owns a toy light saber. Skipping exposition, a hiking trip somehow lands Josh in magical, ever-musical Schmigadoon where for a while he refuses to deal with whatever is singing and dancing all around him. Accompanying Josh but savoring the experience lots more is Melissa, wryly depicted by Sara Chase, whose shared three-year romance has gone flat. Eventually a leprechaun pops up to explain that the only way Josh and Melissa can escape this performative dimension is by finding their own true love, which evidently means somebody else. Initially Melissa takes up with Danny (Max Clayton), a Billy Bigelow sort of dancing carnie, while Josh is first captured by Betsy (McKenzie Kurtz), a giggling farmer’s daughter whose papa totes a shotgun.
[Read Bob Verini’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
More townspeople reminiscent of beloved musicals appear, such as starchy Mildred Layton (Ana Gasteyer), a censorious busybody; lively Emma (Isabelle McCalla), the spinster librarian, er, schoolmarm, and her little brother Carson (Ayaan Diop) whose speech impediment is solved by the gift of a kazoo; and kindly, blustery Mayor Menlove (Brad Oscar), whose name betrays secret interests. Their doings spark nearly two dozen usually lively musical numbers crafted to recall those real nice clambakes, patter songs aimed to rouse up a crowd and other celebrated sequences from yesteryear musicals.
Co-created with Ken Daurio for the TV series, the fondly satirical book, music and lyrics for the Broadway edition of Schmigadoon! is credited to Cinco Paul, whose agreeable parodies of Golden Age tropes and show tunes are likely to beguile anybody who listens to original cast recordings. Achieving a happy blend of comedy and sincerity – especially through the show’s performance style – is vital to making such obviously referential musical theater ring the bell with viewers. It’s a tricky business, but Christopher Gattelli, who directs and choreographs, neatly hits that proper balance to deliver Schmigadoon! as a cheerful crowd-pleaser replete with nifty tunes, high-flying dances a-la Michael Kidd or Agnes de Mille and plenty of fun, even for folks who know little about old-fashioned musicals.
Led by Brightman’s scrappy Josh and Chase’s snappy Melissa, Gattelli’s crackerjack company, which includes Ann Harada in what can only be described as an Ann Harada role, works hard yet makes it all look easy to the eye as the show smoothly rolls out along with scenic designer Scott Pask’s picturesque, painterly sets done in pastel shades, designer Linda Cho’s very pretty costumes and Donald Holder’s vivid lighting designs. Walter Trabach’s sound reinforcement is exceptionally crisp, while the orchestrations by Doug Besterman & Mike Morris sound shiny and resonant. It looks like working on this project brings out something special from the designers. Frankly, the only issue with the overlong Schmigadoon! is that the show finally turns out to be too much of a good thing. Were matters perhaps 20 minutes less, this dandy entertainment probably would appeal to audiences even a little more than it already does.
