I am not the target audience for Schmigadoon, the new musical now open at the Nederlander Theatre on Broadway. I never watched the Apple TV series of the same name, despite its murderers’ row of theatrical talent. (Kristin Chenoweth! Ariana DeBose! Aaron Tveit!) I also skipped its second season offering, Schmicago. Going into a recent performance of the stage adaptation, I only had the dimmest sense of the show’s plot.

Yet with my eyes on the stage, I quickly learned that I also am the show’s target audience. As someone who’s been besotted with Golden Age musicals since childhood, a loving parody of that genre’s tropes hits me square in the sweet spot. I also teach musical theater history, so I have a great affinity for anyone – like the show’s creator, Cinco Paul, and its intrepid director/choreographer, Christopher Gattelli – who treats the genre’s building blocks with respect.


So obviously I loved Schmigadoon, right? Not quite. There is much to admire in Paul’s story of two contemporary Manhattanites, Josh Skinner (Alex Brightman) and Melissa Gimble (Sara Chase), who stumble upon a singin’-and-dancin’ hamlet in the woowhile on a couples’ retreat. First among the fine elements is Gattelli’s ingenious choreography, which effortlessly evokes the era of Robbins, White, and de Mille. Scott Pask’s candy-colored sets and Linda Cho’s cotillion-like costumes nod to a bygone era without winking too far.

Paul’s score in genial and tuneful throughout, though his attempts to send up particular classic musical moments – whether it be a “Soliloquy”-like number for the Billy Bigelow stand-in (Max Clayton) or a romping riff on “I Cain’t Say No” (sung by the winning McKenzie Kurtz) – are, predictably, less sharp than their referents. Ana Gasteyer makes a meal of “Tribulation,” which parodies “Trouble” from The Music Man, but her overall performance as the town’s resident holy roller is fairly one-note.

Brightman and Chase make a fine central couple, although the recurring plotline of Josh’s aversion to musicals – which leaves Brightman with nothing to sing for the majority of the show – wears out its welcome before the finale.

For much of its running time, Schmigadoon toes the line between sincerity and satire. It lands firmly in neither camp, which leaves it feeling somewhat stilted. I would have loved a touch more sharpness in the material to offset the creep of nostalgia.

Photos by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman