Review: Titanique

Review of the Sunday, April 26, 2026 evening performance at the St. James Theatre in New York City. Starring Jim Parsons, Marla Mindelle, Deborah Cox, Melissa Berrera, Frankie Grande, John Riddle, Layton Williams and Constantine Rousouli. Inspired by the film Titanic and the songs of Céline Dion. Co-authored by Marla Mindelle, Constantine Rousouli and Tye Blue. Orchestrations and arrangements by Nicholas James Connell. Scenic design by Gabriel Hainer Evansohn for Iron Bloom. Costume design by Alejo Vietti. Lighting design by Paige Seber. Sound design by Lawrence Schober. Choreography by Ellenore Scott. Direction by Tye Blue. 100 minutes, with no intermission.

I would have loved to have been in the room when Marla Mindelle, Constantine Rousouli and Tye Blue got together and came up with the idea for lampooning both the film Titanic and Celine Dion. It had to have been an absolute tear-down-your-face laugh fest. But it also must have been a lot of work. Something this simultaneously smart and irreverent cannot be that easy to create.

The show famously arrives on Broadway following a genesis from way off-Broadway to off-Broadway, where it was a smash hit, extended many times, and beloved by a devoted fan base. Broadway, on the other hand, was a bit of a gamble, as the Main Stem is littered with plenty of shows that couldn't survive the upscale treatment. Well, I'm happy to say that this time the gamble paid off.

Directed to within an inch of its life by Blue and choreographed with a zany fervor by Ellenore Scott, the little show that could thrives on the big stage. Fast paced and bursting at the seams with sight gags and creative entrances and exits, Titanique steamrolls its way through 90 minutes of craziness with a dexterity that should be studied.

Technically, the production got a full Broadway-sized upgrade - no longer does the show take place on a half-rate set from Anything Goes. Now it has all the bells and whistles of its new locale, the set of The Voice. Well, not really, but who's going to quibble when there's the dazzling staircases and multi-levels of Gabriel Hainer Evansohn (for Iron Bloom)'s set design which covers the enormous St, James stage and beyond? One can only imagine the price tag of Paige Seber's dazzling lighting design or Lawrence Schober's perfect sound design. As brilliant as all of that is, it is a stroke of genius to leave most of the props and Alejo Vietti's costume designs as cheesy as the off-Broadway originals. It just adds to the comedy that a send up of the richest people in the world on the grandest ship ever look like they are wearing thrift shop finds (the DeWitt Bukater ladies look especially hilarious). It would have been easy to upgrade all of the props, but where is the fun in that?

The song choices, from the film, Dion's catalog and beyond (even Beauty and the Beast gets a spin) mostly work, and are delightfully shoe-horned into the script, whether they work entirely or not. As with any good parody, it's the context that makes each song choice so inspired. The book, such that it is, is as irreverent as the rest: all the best lines from the movie are here ("draw me like one of your French girls, Jack" got a round of applause), and nearly everything Celine says in the show is recognizable as something the beloved singer repeats often. They make some fun choices, too, with the characters including Rose's mother played in drag, the captain of the ship is now Victor Garber who played the ship designer in the film, but is much funnier steering the boat, and a Tina Turner-inspired iceberg. Nothing goes unscathed here, except...

  

The music and singing are top-notch. The band is spectacular and joins in on the fun occasionally, too. And the cast is full of amazing vocalists - save for one, but entirely appropriately. They definitely brought their casting "A" game to Broadway. There are three backup singers (Sara Gallo, Polanco Jones, Kristina Leopold) who are simply amazing and I can't imagine this without them. West End transplant and 2025 Olivier Award winner Layton Williams makes a show-stopping (literally) Broadway debut in a trio of roles, the tour guide, the seaman and the iceberg. He's amazing as all three, but really brings down the house with his smoking hot iceberg drag. Welcome to Broadway! Frankie Grande is a riot as Luigi (yes, Super Mario Brothers) and as Victor Garber, who is a sassy queen here and stops the show cold (literally and figuratively) with his rendition of "I Drove All Night" as he steers the ship into the iceberg.

  

In a comic turn that I hope won't be his last, John Riddle brings his glorious voice and superb timing to the role of the villainous Cal Hockley. Sexy as always, he all but twirls his mustache with dastardly glee as he stomps, flounces and preens his way around the set. Former real-life Celine Dion backup singer and Grammy-winning icon Deborah Cox is another shockingly good comedienne taking on the role of the Unsinkable Molly Brown. I wasn't shocked at her gorgeous voice (especially in her big solo, "All By Myself") as much as I couldn't believe how genuinely funny she was! 

Jim Parsons appears to be having the time of his life as Ruth DeWitt Bukater, here a foul-mouthed social climber with abusive tendencies and a few surprising kinks. Somehow, he makes his thin singing voice work as part of the character, and he is especially funny when he has a complete meltdown about halfway through the show, taking on Patti LuPone, Carol Channing, Nicole Scherzinger and Marla Mindelle herself in the process. Inspired casting here.

Aside from Williams, the only other principal making their debut is Melissa Berrera, as Rose. She is the find of the season! I found her to be a delight in every aspect - her comic timing is razor-sharp and her singing is superb. She also has incredible energy - one imagines a complete exhausted crash for her after every performance! I loved everything about her performance and can't wait to see what she does next.

Two of the show's creators and original cast members are here chewing the scenery with gusto and style, and despite a more than three year association with the piece are as fresh as opening night. What can I say about them that probably hasn't already been said? Ok, I'll try. Constantine Rousouli is, well, so sexy and charming, I had trouble concentrating on much else when he was on stage. The swagger, the impossibly tight pants, and a goof ball smile are irresistible. His timing, affected dumb guy looks and his gorgeous voice are the perfect storm for such a terrific performance. He has a new fan in me, for sure. 

Then there is the absolutely sparkling performance of Marla Mindelle as a megalomaniac version of Ms. Dion (she swears she was on the Titanic...). There is nothing she isn't willing to send up about this beloved singer - from her thick accent to her over the top mannerisms. One thing she doesn't attack is Celine's singing voice (well, not too much), as she belts her way through one pop hit after another. Her last bit (after a terrific "My Heart Will Go On" sing along) is a crazy riot that I will not spoil here. I've been a fan of Mindelle since her stint in Sister Act, and this makes me love her even more.

Whether you sit in First Class or steerage, this is one insane boat ride you will not want to miss!

📸: E. Zimmerman

Review: Next to Normal (Regional Theater)

Review of the Friday, March 13, 2026 performance at the M&T Bank Exchange at the France-Merrick Performing Arts Center in Baltimore, Maryland. An Iron Crow Theatre production. Starring Allison Bradbury, Danny Bertaux, Brashley Stein, Alexandra Lopez, Jason Zuckerman and Pat Collins. With Kelly Mok, Heather Nicole Reed, Dani Rizzo and Jake Stibbe. Music by Tom Kitt. Book and lyrics by Brian Yorkey. Scenic design and technical direction by Bruce Kapplin. Costume design by Tiffany Zellner. Lighting design by Thomas P. Gardner. Video design by Chris Carcione. Sound design by Zach Sexton. Intimacy direction by Shawna Potter. Musical direction by Michelle Henning. Direction by Natka Bianchini. 2 hours 25 minutes, with one intermission. This production played its final performance on Sunday, March 15, 2026.

Over the weekend, we had the opportunity to experience a couple of theater firsts here in Baltimore. First, we attended the theater in a relatively new venue, the M&T Bank Exchange, a space that was a bank a long time ago, three stories tall, adorned with stunning stained glass windows. Today, it is multi-purpose facility, reconfigurable for everything from fashion shows and weddings to corporate events, and, of course, theatrical productions. (It is attached to Baltimore's Broadway touring house, the France-Merrick Performing Arts Center.) The other first was our first production by the professional theater company, Iron Crow Theatre, Maryland's queer theater company. Their definition of "queer" encompasses a broad spectrum of ideologies, remarkable in its inclusiveness. It was their production of the Pulitzer Prize winning Next to Normal that drew us to this unique group.

While this is not the first local professional production of this show we've seen, it is, unfortunately, the most uneven. Don't get me wrong, here. The fact that they are even attempting this complex piece is admirable. And where it is strong, it is wonderful. But there are a few rather glaring things that take what would otherwise have been amazing down to uncomfortably cringe worthy. First, Natka Bianchini's direction is uneven, with awkward scene transitions that cause a lack of flow, and still other times where side scenes detract from the main action. Yet, there are other times where the staging is inventive and interesting, including the use of a variety of projections and video (designed by Chris Carcione) that offer insight into the thought processes of the struggling main character, and add depth to the ethereal character of Gabe, her son. But then there are moments that feel more community theater than professional - an ensemble (more on them in a minute) employed to fill the stage yet clearly struggling to find their purpose for being there, and little things like having chairs on wheels that the actors lift up to move rather than roll them. Likewise, Tiffany Zellner's costume design lacks any cohesiveness and feel more like last-minute thrift shopping than any sort of character development.

The mixed bag that is the casting is probably the thing that hurt this potentially great production the most. One has to wonder why it was decided to add a four person ensemble to the cast. On paper, I'm sure it seemed like a great way to add to the show - it becomes crystal clear only in the final moments of the last song that all four represent the Goodman family members, when they literally shake hands with each other. In retrospect, there were other hints earlier, though at the time they just felt distracting. Then there's Danny Bertaux, miscast as Dan, the father trying desperately to keep his family together. Slump shouldered and a mostly blank face beyond looking sad when Dan is sad, he carries the tunes of Tom Kitt with little flair, and Brian Yorkey's lyrics with little more than perfunctory expression. That all of the other main characters do so much more than that makes him stick out in all the wrong ways. Brashley Stein, playing the enigmatic Gabe, has a terrific voice, and sings the role very well (his "I'm Alive" is a highlight), and yet his physicality is at odds with his vocal performance. He's more spirit fingers and sweeping gestures than a spirit with controlling gestures. He also looks like he could be Dan's brother than his 17 year old son. To be fair both of the Goodman children look like contemporaries of their parents than their offspring. Finally, there is Pat Collins as doctors Madden and Fine, who might be a perfect Little Shop Mushnik or Seymour, rather than a charismatic "rock star." Still, Collins sings both roles very well and even manages to sprinkle in some lighter, funny bits.

On the considerably brighter side, what there is to recommend here is really outstanding. The small band, led by Michelle Henning, plays this challenging score extremely well, too. Given the sheer size of the space, the sound design could prove difficult, yet Zach Sexton's efforts are laudable, with no balance issues and clarity throughout. Similarly, Thomas P. Gardner's lighting design creates both intimate moments and expansive lighting that somehow includes the audience and makes full effect of the huge space. It also supplements Bruce Kapplin's interesting scenic design which incorporates Carcione's video design. The design elements here are sharp and professional.

The cast also features three real aces. As the lovable stoner Henry, Jason Zuckerman is instantly endearing and carefully crafts a portrait of a loving teen and likely successor to the head of the family years from now. His chemistry with Alexandra Lopez' troubled teen  Natalie is palpable from the first seconds they are together. Lopez deftly navigates the complexities of a girl desperately trying to seem detached from her family, yet hungry for their love and attention. What is wonderful about this pair is how they complement each other as they journey from an oil/water duo to a lovingly dependent couple.

Finally, and most importantly, there is that winning performance of Allison Bradbury as Diana, the central character who struggles with mental disorders - inaccurately diagnosed most of the time - and the overwhelming grief of losing a child. She sings and acts this difficult role with an ease and quality that makes you feel confident that you are actually seeing her go through each trial and tribulation. Her profound sadness and fear of never being a "normal, loving mother" informs every moment of her terrific performance. 

Despite its unevenness, I am so glad to have seen this performance of one of my favorite pieces of musical theater, and especially having discovered an important new (to me, anyway) local company. I already look forward to seeing their future productions.

📸: W. Freeman

Review: Operation Mincemeat

Review of the Sunday, June 1, 2025 matinee performance at John Golden Theater in New York City. Starring David Cumming, Claire-Marie Hall, Natasha Hodgson, Jak Malone and Zoe Roberts. Book, music and lyrics by David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson, and Zoe Roberts. Orchestrations by Steve Sidwell. Set and costume designs by Ben Stones. Lighting design by Mark Henderson. Sound design by Mike Walker. Choreography by Jennie Arnold. Directed by Robert Hastie. 2 hours 30 minutes, with one intermission.

In a season stuffed with excellent musicals, very good musicals tend to get lost in the shuffle On the way out of Operation Mincemeat, I thought, "that was good. Everything about it was perfectly executed, but it just isn't as great as [insert any number of musicals from this season]." As the days since I saw the show have passed, however, I find myself thinking back to scenes, songs and actors; it continues to stick with me. Is it becoming a favorite of mine? No. I just appreciate it for what it is. That's not a bad thing.

Ultimately, this frenetic, frequently hilarious romp suffers under the weight of its own brilliance. It is hyper from the first minute to the last, as exhausting to watch as it must be to perform. It is no wonder then that the few moments where things slow down, and the story reveals its heart, are also the ones that got the most audience response. One such moment, the song "Dear Bill," is a simple melody, simply played and simply sung by Tony nominee Jak Malone. It was a rare, touching moment.

Perhaps this enterprise suffers from a lack of editing made more challenging by the fact that four of the five cast members are also responsible for the book, music and lyrics. Could it be that they were too close to it all to judiciously trim things down by about a half an hour. Spy capers such as this tend to be more effective when precision is a watchword. It's funny (both as in humor and as in irony) that a character in the show is Ian Fleming, author of one of the world's greatest spy caper franchises. One has to think the guy who created 007 might have helped to sharpen this overlong affair. All of that said, I'm not sure what could have been cut. Maybe that riotous if mildly offensive act two opener, "Das Ubermensch," which is dazzling to look at and owes its existence to The Producers and Six. Or maybe that very funny "A Glitzy Finale" which goes on. And on. And on. Granted, it justifies the comparatively outrageous ticket prices for the Broadway run. (Eye-popping sets, costumes and lighting by Ben Stones and Mark Henderson, respectively.)

So why is it that I find myself constantly thinking back to it with a smile on my face? It comes down to two things: impeccable staging and even more impeccable acting. The extremely intricate staging by director Robert Hastie and choreographer Jennie Arnold is endlessly creative - to its credit, the controlled chaos allows the audience to fully relax and enjoy each costume, scenic and character change. Think Benny Hill meets Masterpiece Theater meets The Spy Who Loved Me and mixed with Six, Hamilton and The 39 Steps. Just when you think you've seen it all, Hastie and Arnold come up with something even more surprising and clever. The low-tech sight gags mixed with the high-tech spectacle are a heady mix of first-rate theatricality.

(L to R) Roberts, Malone, Hodgson, Cumming and Hall

The five-member company is utterly perfection, really. Each one plays a multitude of characters, many times more than one character in the same scene (heck, sometimes within the same conversation). Zoe Roberts, surely a chameleon in a previous life, plays two characters primarily, chief of the MI-5 operation in WWII, and a goofball undercover spy. Her accents and broad gestures are beyond hilarious. (She also appears as the aforementioned supercilious Ian Fleming.) As the shy secretary dragged into spy duty, Claire-Marie Hall is alternately sweet and a tower of strength. It is her transformation that gives the piece a human touch.

The three "most" main characters are the master planners of this true-story, tide-changing escapade, and a quiet assistant who really steps up in a moment of crisis. David Cumming plays the impossibly smart Charles Cholmondeley, a nerdy wallflower, whose ideas are really the best ones. His rubber band-like physicality and facial expressions call to mind a British Tim Conway at his peak during his Carol Burnett days - a supreme compliment in my mind. He is wonderful. As his co-hort, Ewen Montagu, Natasha Hodgson is a wonder. I can't understand how she isn't nominated for every acting award this season. She uses every skill in her giant bag of tricks, from raspy voices to carefully calibrated physicality, and really steals the show. However, it is the rightfully critically-acclaimed star turn of Jak Malone that stole my heart. Like the others he plays many roles broadly and with bravado. But his most notable turn is as the unassuming Hester Leggatt. Like many an assistant the world over, Hester is the real brains of the operation, and Malone nails that delicate balance between blending into the background and inserting herself into the action.

In any other leaner season, Mincemeat would be the toast of the town. I can think of several recent seasons where this would be the big winner. That's not to say this show isn't terrific; it is. But a shorter, more streamlined script and another breather or two in the action would make this very good musical an excellent one.

📸: J. Cervantes

Review: John Proctor is the Villain

Review of the Saturday, May 31, 2025 evening performance at the Booth Theatre in New York City. Starring Sadie Sink, with Nihar Duvurri, Gabriel Ebert, Molly Griggs, Maggie Kuntz, Hagan Oliveras, Morgan Scott, Fina Strazza and Amalia Yoo. A new play by Kimberly Belflower. Scenography by AMP ft. Teresa L. Williams. Costume Design by Sarah Laux. Lighting Design by Natasha Katz. Sound and Original Composition by Palmer Hefferan. Projection Design by Hannah Wasileski. Directed by Danya Taymor. 1 hour 45 minutes, with no intermission.

The final scene of John Proctor is the Villain is powerful and thrilling, but its final seconds are breathtaking and cathartic. As the title suggests, Kimberly Belflower's new play takes everything we thought we knew the hero of about Arthur Miller's The Crucible and stands it on its ear. Alternately hilarious and horrifying, this intense play is easily the best production of the season past several seasons. 

While this modern play soon exposes itself as an allegory for an allegorical play, it is nevertheless full of twists, turns and revelations that are somehow not surprising at all yet shocking just the same. Other plays have moved me, sure, but none have taken my heart and soul on such an emotional ride since dare I say it, Lost In Yonkers back in the 90s. There are no grand effects, sweeping visuals or puppets to heighten my senses. There is just good, solid dialogue, smart plotting with challenging themes, and a brilliant company of actors leaving it all on the stage.

Danya Taymor, the reigning directorial queen of teen angst, could (should) win her second Tony Award for her masterful staging. The focus ebbs and flows so naturally, (one feels almost like a peeping Tom) watching this honors English class, with its imaginative use of movement so easily could have been a static classroom drama - and dramatic pauses that punctuate each scene. Taymor has amped up the Gen Z anxiety with rapid fire bursts of conversation and tense physical juxtapositions. The effect causes us to share in the students' fears while simultaneously wanting to protect them and shake them for their maddening naivete. Turns out that all of that anxiety is well founded, with accusations of sexual abuse beginning to swirl around this small town, and, soon enough in this classroom. Power, trust and Me Too politics all come into play - a witch hunt comes to a high school and lives are destroyed. It is a lot to juggle, but thankfully this director knows how to handle it. Never hard to follow, the details are carefully doled out and we are collectively on the edge of our seats.

The design team certainly adds to the experience: the "scenography" by AMP featuring Teresa L. Williams is a meticulously detailed small-town Georgia classroom with room to move and different playing areas. It is the perfect crucible. Similarly, Sarah Laux's costumes are both realistic and thematically apt, as is the general lighting by Natasha Katz. Katz beautifully supplements the more theatrical moments with focused spots. The final minutes are made more thrilling by Hannah Wasileski's dizzying floor projections. (I do recommend the mezzanine at the Booth.)

In yet another example of why the Tony Awards need to recognize ensemble casts, these nine actors are, to a person, stunning. There are two adults in the world: a new, caring guidance counselor whose rookie status is both a hindrance and a help, and the experienced but still youthful teacher, whose passion for his subject ignites a fire in his students. The counselor is played with an open heart and, eventually, a shocking clarity by Molly Griggs. Current Tony nominee Gabriel Ebert is the teacher with a knack for gaining the trust of the kids in his care, and this actor continues his streak of wide-ranging portrayals, with this unflinching, frightening turn. His nomination is completely deserved.

The rest of the company is full of young up and comers, each one with the potential for long, storied careers. Hagan Oliveras plays the alpha male out of his depth when he faces a reckoning for his sexist behavior with several of his classmates. He manages to be both a bad guy and mildly sympathetic; his is a tough assignment perfectly executed. As the other male student, Nihar Duvurri plays a kid, who on the surface also seems completely out of his depth. Until he isn't. His arc is a crowd-pleaser.

The five young women are central to the action and point of the play, not unlike their Crucible counterparts. As a unit, they represent their small town society. Individually, they make a strong case for the future. There's the daughter of the town's minister, is forced to reevaluate her upbringing in the face of moving on with her own life, played with a sweet fierceness by Amalia Yoo. The Outsiders' Maggie Kuntz plays the popular girl whose home and family have been central to this friendship group's social life for years. Her idyllic childhood is shattered by accusations of her father's impropriety, and Ms. Kuntz nails that fragility without ever overacting it. And there's the newest student, a big city transplant played with a biting savvy by Morgan Scott, who brilliantly plays the balancing act of a more worldly view and trying to fit in with her new surroundings. 

The other two students do a lot of the comedic and dramatic heavy lifting; having now seen this it is no wonder both are Tony-nominated. Fina Strazza is a wonder as the meticulous brainiac with one eye on college applications the other on pleasing her teacher. Her saccharine delivery is both funny and - amazingly - ingratiating. We are on her side the entire time, even more so as she is forced to acknowledge a life-changing reality. Finally, there's Sadie Sink, who was largely unknown to me before this. Let's just say she earned her above-the-title-billing, as she navigates a labyrinth of emotions. She is a fiery, captivating presence who endears even as she infuriates. Her final scene alone is worth the price of admission.

Thirty plus years between plays that make me feel this much was entirely worth the wait. I cannot recommend this play enough. It is a thrill ride from start to finish, not to be missed.

📸: J. Cervantes

Review: Real Women Have Curves

Review of the Saturday, May 31, 2025 matinee performance at the James Earl Jones Theatre. Starring Tatianna Cordoba, Justina Machado, Florencia Cuenca, Mauricio Mendoza, Mason Reeves, Ariana Burks, Carla Jimenez, Aline Mayagoitia, Jennifer Sanchez and Sandra Valls. Book by Lisa Loomer and Nell Benjamin. Music and Lyrics by Joy Huerta and Benjamin Velez. Based on the play by Josefina Lopez and HBO's Real Women Have Curves, screenplay by Josefina Lopez and George LaVoo. Set Design by Arnulfo Maldonado. Costume Design by Wilberth Gonzalez and Paloma Young. Lighting Design by Natasha Katz. Video Deign by Hana S. Kim. Sound Design by John Shivers. Directed and choreographed by Sergio Trujillo. 2 hours 20 minutes, including one intermission.

In many ways, Real Women Have Curves is a throwback to simpler times for Broadway musicals. It is a traditional book musical comedy with a mostly light tone, relatable characters and a toe-tapper of a score. And it certainly makes the case that this type of show, though rarer these days, still has legs. 

Based on a play by Josephina Lopez, and later an HBO movie, Lisa Loomer and Nell Benjamin's book is deft at creating solid characters that flirt with being types, but grow as the story does. Sharp and witty, there's a high laugh per minute ratio, but also plenty of sincere heart and some pointed criticism of the state on immigration in this country. Set in 1987, it really hammers home the fact that things haven't changed and may have gotten substantially worse. But it never gets too bogged down in politics, thankfully. The book also manages the impossible: virtually seamless integration of each song. The score, a delicious mix of Latin rhythms, 80's sounding orchestrations, and good old fashioned Broadway (usually all simultaneously) is delightful throughout, and to their credit, Joy Huerta and Benjamin Valez's Tony-nominated score is never repetitive, and their lyrics are character-driven and consistently clever.

Design-wise, the show is as joyful and beautiful as its story. The season's best "show curtain" only hints at the colorful sets to come, and the lighting is equally vibrant. Designed by Arnulfo Maldonado and Natsha Katz respectively, they provide a lovely backdrop for Wilberth Gonzalez and Paloma Young's costumes, which are characters themselves. For me though, it is Hana S. Kim's dreamy and poignant video/projection design that was the real icing in the cake. 

Pulling it all together is the tight but gentle direction of Tony-winner Sergio Trujillo, who keeps things moving and a brisk pace with clever scene transitions and strategic use of blackouts. His choreography is exciting and equally clever. Most importantly, though, he honors the culture of the characters and the important representation of these rich and varied women. He gives everything room to breathe, allowing for the joy of the piece to shine always.

The central characters are a traditional family and a work family. That work family is a zesty group of ladies who share their world-weary-been-there-done-that wisdom with the next generation. They've had it hard, but have triumphed over their circumstances. Though all of them were truly spectacular, Jennifer Sanchez as the astrology-loving slightly naive Rosali is a riot, and Aline Mayagoitia as the newest member of the group, Itzel, really captivated my heart. The latter's poignant "If I Were a Bird" is a reminder that freedom is not to be taken for granted. The "villain" of the piece, a cold-hearted business woman, is played by Claudia Mulet with a disquieting harshness, which makes a couple of her plot twists all the more satisfying.

The family unit is the heart of the piece, including a hard-working but gentle dad (the wry Mauricio Mendoza), and struggling but successful older sister (the delightfully empowered Florencia Cuenca - her "Daydream" is a show highlight). There is also a new young man in their lives, Henry, who shares a special affection for the younger daughter, Ana. If you ever wondered how Kimberly Akimbo's Seth Weetis would turn out, here it is. Mason Reeves plays Henry with a delightful honesty, walking that fine line between cliche nerdiness and warm sincerity. 

The main characters, though, are the tough as nails matriarch (Tony-nominee Justina Machado) and her equally tough younger daughter (a triumphant Broadway debut by Tatianna Cordoba). Watching these two butt heads is a wonder of switching loyalties and guessing where they will go next. Though the outcome is never really in doubt, it's the getting there that is the real Joy here. Long a fan of Ms. Machado, I was excited to see her live, and she did not disappoint' her comic timing is razor sharp, her emotional moments a study in reserve and grace, and she can sing! Of course, I always love seeing new talent rise like cream, and Ms. Cordoba is an amazing new talent to watch for. Trust me, she's a name we will hear about for years to come.

I'm sure most of you are aware that the show is struggling at the box office. I cannot recommend hard enough that this show deserves our support. It is fun and important, and will leave you walking out of the theater ten feet in the air.

📸: J. Cervantes

Review: Buena Vista Social Club

Review of the Friday, May 30, 2025 performance at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre in New York City. Starring Natalie Venetia Belcon, Julio Monge, Mel Seme, Jainardo Batista Sterling, Isa Antonetti, Da'von T. Moody, Wesley Wray, Leonardo Reyna, Renesito Avich, Ashley De La Rosa and Justin Cunningham. Book by Marco Ramirez. Music by Buena Vista Social Club. Orchestrations and arrangements by Marco Paguia. Scenic Design by Arnulfo Maldonado. Costume Design by Dede Ayite. Lighting Design by Tyler Micoleau. Sound Design by Jonathan Deans. Creative consultant David Yazbek. Choreography by Patricia Delgado and Justin Peck. Developed and directed by Saheem Ali. 2 hours 10 minutes including one intermission.

If there was any doubt about whether or not the Special Tony Award that the Buena Vista Social Club band received was deserved, all of that was put to rest within minutes of the start of the show. Every time they played, a sense of reverent euphoria washed over the theater. We were witnessing a master class in artistry and a brilliant tribute to a music genre often overlooked in the  mainstream. They, and the music they play, are the real stars of this exhilarating musical.

That said, the production is not without its flaws. The theme of past and present converging is interesting, and at first the way it is portrayed is artful and intriguing: a flourish of dancers sweeping in to change set pieces, older versions of the same character face each other and then in a burst of light switch places. But it happens so frequently, that it becomes dull and somehow overplayed; one wonders why director Saheem Ali couldn't come up with more ways to portray this. Then there's the book by Marco Ramirez, cliche-ridden but serviceable, that runs out of steam in act two, when the whole affair begins to feel every minute of its two hours and ten minutes. To be fair, the real point of the story is to tell the tale of a benchmark album and its creators, and that it did.

And that benchmark album is given a loving tribute here. Played and sung by true masters of their craft, it is stunning to listen to. Sung entirely in Spanish, knowledge of the language is unnecessary, so crystal clear are the passions behind the songs. If you really need to know what's happening in the songs, each Playbill comes with a booklet titled "Every Cuban Song Has a Story to Tell." I didn't look at it until I got home, and it is fascinating, but I never felt that I missed a thing as I was watching it unfold.

BVSC is a handsome production, with its evocative unit set with several pleasant surprises (designed by Arnulfo Maldonado), colorful costumes (by Dede Ayite) which cleverly tie in the young and old versions of the characters, and vibrant lighting by Tyler Micoleau, both playful and sharply focused. For the most part, Jonathan Deans' sound design is wonderful - the sound mix of the musicians should be studied - but there were occasional balance issues when there was dialogue with underscoring. Repetitive time transitions aside, Ali's direction is otherwise tight and creative. The other star of the show here is the choreography by Patricia Delgado and Justin Peck, superbly performed by an ensemble of amazing dancers. These dances have a sensual language of their own, full of sultry passion and a deeply rooted history, and they are often breathtaking.

Of course, the company of actors contribute greatly, making a full course meal out of the bare cupboards of the book. Standouts include Wesley Wray who charms the entire room as the young social club busboy/street singer, and Ashley De La Rosa as a singer with big dreams beyond Cuba and an even bigger survival instinct. But for my money the three biggest assets to the whole affair are Isa Antonetti as the young singer with a passion for the authentic music of her island, Julio Monge, who serves as a sort of wry narrator and perfect foil for the woman at the heart of the piece. That woman is the regal Natalie Venetia Belcon, who makes a triumphant return to the Broadway stage here. She held us spellbound by her mere presence, captivated by her every pause and word.

While as the show went on there was a nagging sense of diminishing returns, it was somewhat surprising that the ending was a bit rushed and brief. One expected a big finale, but there wasn't one. Still, this was one social club I am grateful to have visited.

📸: M. Murphy

Review: Maybe Happy Ending (2nd Visit)

Review of the Saturday, December 7, 2024 matinee performance at the Belasco Theatre in New York City. Starring Darren Criss, Helen J. Shen, Marcus Choi, Dez Duron and HwaBoon. Music by Will Aronson. Lyrics by Hue Park. Book by Will Aronson and Hue Park. Scenic design by Dane Laffrey. Costume design by Clint Ramos. Lighting design by Ben Stanton. Sound design by Peter Hylenski. Video design by George Reeve. Direction by Michael Arden. 100 minutes with no intermission. 

Something very special is happening this winter at the Belasco Theatre, where the cast, crew, and creative team of Maybe Happy Ending have worked together to create a nearly flawless gem of a modern musical. It’s a show that manages to be effortlessly entertaining while asking questions like: Would you want to know exactly how many days you had left on earth? Would you want to remember everything you’ve ever experienced with perfect clarity? And what would you do if you had the power to selectively erase those memories that cause you pain, but that also might be central to who you are as a person?

The burden of conveying all of this on stage falls squarely on the shoulders of actors Darren Criss (Oliver) and Helen J. Shen (Claire), playing a pair of obsolescent helper robots - although their beautiful performances can’t really be separated from the creative choices that also help to define their characters in exquisite detail. Of the two, Criss plays an older (but hardier) model, with a more conservative former owner. Accordingly, his speech and facial expressions are (at least initially) more constrained; his singing voice is mostly devoid of vibrato and other adornments; his clothes are stuffy and nondescript; and his apartment is such a perfect container for predictable behavior that he’s worn a hole in his carpet in the spot where he usually stands. Shen’s robot is a newer, superficially more capable model, her former owner younger and more fashionable, so she boasts an essentially human-like demeanor and, since this is a musical, an appropriately full-throated and expressive vocal delivery. Her clothes are varied and colorful, and the centerpiece of her very lived-in apartment is a battered bean-bag chair held together by duct tape. All of these factors come together to create two compelling and vibrant central performances.

To round out - or perhaps I should say square out - the cast, Dez Duron makes an important musical contribution as jazz vocalist Gil Brentley, and Marcus Choi breathes life into father-and-son pair James and Junseo. Both also play several other background characters, always to perfection.

The production design is a model of efficiency and plasticity, all in service of the characters and story. Near the beginning of the show, we see our two main robots in their respective apartments, the modular set (designed by Dane Laffrey) allowing for things to shift quickly between the two boxy rooms and the hallway between them. We see these spaces surrounded by a sea of black, emphasizing the robots’ isolation and the severe limits of their current worlds. As their shared experience expands to include a seedy motel, a ferry ride, and an island adventure, the set expands with them, aided by the striking lighting design (Ben Stanton) and extensive, sometimes realistic and sometimes diffuse projections (Laffrey and George Reeve). At other moments, the entire stage serves as a stark representation of the robots’ inner space, as they replay key memories in their relationships with human companions.

Mention has already been made of the crucial contributions of costume designer Clint Ramos in establishing character, and the same can be said of the hair/wig and makeup designs (Craig Franklin Miller and Suki Tsujimoto, respectively). An additional special mention should be made of the sound design by Peter Hylenski, which excels in all respects. I find that the orchestral accompaniment in current Broadway musicals tends to be either so amplified that it doesn’t always sound like it’s even being performed live, or, like the recent Sweeney Todd revival, detailed and present but not exactly immersive. Hylenski avoids both of these extremes by filling the auditorium with the authentic sounds of this show’s marvelous orchestra. In addition, while I am in the habit of using an assistive listening device especially for spoken dialogue, I found that they were barely needed in this case; the actors’ words were projected clearly and effectively.

Of course, all of these elements could only have come together so seamlessly under the confident hand of an expert director like Michael Arden. A seasoned and versatile actor himself, his talent and experience must have been especially critical in helping Criss and Shen to develop such compelling central performances. After a series of groundbreaking revivals of modern classics, it’s clear that Arden also has what it takes to create brand new ones, and I look forward to finding out what’s up next for him.

Amid all of this across-the-board brilliance, the true stars of the evening are really the musical’s creators, Will Aronson and Hue Park. They have crafted a story that is fun, deep, and fascinating, touching on multiple aspects of human and humanoid existence. A musical about robots in love could easily have come across as silly and/or predictable, but the brisk, episodic structure of the book and the precisely wrought dialogue ensure that that never happens here. Audiences love the familiar but they also need something novel, and that recipe is executed to perfection here, with a fairly straightforward love story punctuated by a few genuine surprises, both good and bad. (If I have one quibble about the book, it’s the slightly inconsistent use of the central plot device of robots needing to charge their batteries. At one point on their road trip, they both seem to desperately need to recharge, but then they appear to spend hours wandering around in the wilderness without an issue. But it wouldn’t be a genuine Broadway musical without at least one tiny plot hole!)

The tuneful, potent score includes a few conventional musical-theater tropes, such as a pair of scene-setting numbers for the main characters (“World Within My Room” and “The Way That It Has To Be”), a jaunty road-trip song (“Hitting the Road”), and an utterly enchanting duet (“The Rainy Day We Met”) where the main pair concoct a fictional backstory about how they might have fallen in love, but promise not to really fall in love, all while (of course) falling in love. But the nature of the characters and plot allows for some truly unique songs that make you think about familiar things in new ways. In “Goodbye, My Room,” each robot bids farewell to their old apartment as a proxy for the comfortable but stagnant lives they’re preparing to leave behind; when the song is reprised late in the show, the emphasis instead is on how love has given new meaning to old rooms. In “How Not to Be Alone,” Claire reflects on the darker side of love, which transforms a formerly complete individual into a now-incomplete part of a larger whole. The two robots contemplate their own nature and its relationship to actual outdoors nature in yet another beautiful duet, “Never Fly Away.”

The musical tone of the score manages to combine the seemingly opposite principles of intense feeling and emotional restraint - until that restraint falls under the weight of world-changing love, particularly in the ecstatic and climactic “When You’re In Love.” Built achingly out of the “low battery” chime heard throughout the show, this song embodies the mysterious connection between the peak experience of love and the ceaseless ticking of the clock. 

Rounding out the score are a few endearing diegetic jazz numbers for crooner Gil Brentley. These songs contribute some added variety to a soundscape otherwise dominated by Oliver and Claire; even more importantly, they’re cleverly arranged to function, in the vein of Kander and Ebb, as third-party commentary on the course of the robots’ burgeoning relationship.

The gorgeous orchestrations (by Aronson) are dominated by a small string ensemble, supplemented with a few woodwinds (whether acoustic or convincingly synthesized) for added color, and brass to support the jazz numbers. The orchestral texture is delightfully busy, often featuring several active and independent instrumental voices in support of the similarly dynamic sung melodies. The overall effect is one of unstoppable momentum, a musical reflection of the inevitable course of the central pair’s special connection. In almost all of these respects the orchestrations are reminiscent of those of The Light in the Piazza, and that is meant as the highest of compliments.

It’s pretty much impossible for a Broadway musical, or any work of music or art, to say something truly new and revolutionary; that’s not how we measure its greatness. In fact, in its emphasis on our collective race against the ultimate clock, Maybe Happy Ending has much thematically in common with another recent gem, Kimberly Akimbo, and probably with thousands of other novels, movies, paintings, and plays. Instead, the best of these works force us to look at important but familiar ideas in a new and unique light, enhancing our understanding of our world and ourselves. In using the story of two robots to teach us more about the human condition, Maybe Happy Ending is a spectacular artistic success.

Editor's Note: This review is by Mike, a frequent and valued contributor to this site. Thanks, Mike. I'm so glad you loved it as much as I did. Jeff