Review: Schmigadoon!
- The Verdict

- May 22
- 4 min read
🌟VERDICT’S PICK🌟

Lovers of Golden Age musicals such as Oklahoma!, The Music Man, and The Sound of Music would probably relish being dropped into a world where life is a musical. Meanwhile, the idea of a world such as this would make other people turn on their heel and run as far away as they can. This is the predicament that Melissa Gimble (Sara Chase) and Josh Skinner (Alex Brightman) find themselves in when they accidentally stumble into the mystical world of Schmigadoon while on a couples’ retreat in the woods. Premiering first in 2021 as a television series, the stage adaptation of Schmigadoon that opened on Broadway at the Nederlander Theatre is one of the season’s most unashamedly joyful productions. This show is a loving parody that pokes fun at Golden Age musicals while also embracing everything that makes them special.
However, you don’t need to be the world’s foremost scholar on Rodgers and Hammerstein to understand the show or find it funny. Of course, understanding the references will certainly enhance your enjoyment, but the show works whether you know their shows word-for-word, or are a newbie to the Golden Age of musical theatre. Created by Cinco Paul, the book and score spoof classic plot points from some of the most beloved musicals in theatre history, and you need not look very hard to find the nods. To begin with, the show’s title comes directly from Lerner and Loewe’s Brigadoon, with Melissa and Josh, having hit a rough spot in their relationship, arriving in the magical town of Schmigadoon where they quickly meet a cast of aggressively cheerful, impossibly energetic townspeople.

That collision between archetype and affection becomes clearest in the supporting characters who live in Schmigadoon. Betsy McDonough, played by McKenzie Kurtz in a delightfully over-the-top performance, is a flirtatious farmer’s daughter very much akin to Ado Annie from Oklahoma!, and she immediately begins pursuing Josh with a maniacal laugh and an enormous smile. Meanwhile, Max Clayton delivers a high-flying (literally) and sensational principal turn as Danny Bailey, who just as quickly falls for Melissa. In both cases, the joy comes not just from the reference, but from how fully the performers commit to the exaggerated grammar of the Golden Age musical. In addition to their brilliant vocals, both performers bring exceptional dance talents to the forefront, Clayton in particular leaping across the stage during frequent dance breaks with an athleticism that feels almost superhuman.
That same sense of heightened theatricality continues with Isabelle McCalla as teacher Emma Tate, who is deeply charming without ever slipping into simple sweetness. Not only is she tender opposite her brother Carson (Miles McNicoll at my performance), but she also leads the ensemble in the Act II opener “With All of Your Heart,” which features a dazzling tap break the likes of which I genuinely had not seen in a new musical in years. That number was the highlight of the show for me, and I almost wished the show trusted moments like that more often instead of occasionally rushing off to the next joke.

Still, choreographer and director Christopher Gatelli deserves enormous praise. The dancing remains incredibly energetic throughout the entire show, executed in the quick-stepping style of the very musicals that Schmigadoon parodies. The remarkably conditioned ensemble makes the intricate choreography look effortless as they leap across Donald Holder’s beautifully lit stage and through Scott Pask’s vibrant scenic design. If last Broadway season seemed obsessed with minimalism (Sunset Blvd., Gypsy, etc.), then this season has embraced spectacle once again — and in Schmigadoon’s case, brighter truly is better. The ensemble, in many ways, becomes the show’s engine: not just supporting the world, but actively sustaining its exuberant theatrical overproduction.
The abundance of talent becomes even more pronounced in the principal casting, where the production’s biggest structural tension emerges. The entire cast is stacked with theatre royalty, but the show’s scale means that no one is allowed to dominate for very long. As a result, some extraordinary performers are constantly threatening to steal focus without ever fully getting the chance to. Tony-nominated comedic queen Ana Gasteyer, as the formidable Mildred Layton, does not truly take center stage until the latter half of the second act when she riles up the town in “Tribulation,” a number not-so-subtly modeled after “Trouble” from The Music Man. The sequence finally allows Gasteyer to unleash the comic brilliance the audience has been waiting for all evening. Brad Oscar, meanwhile, brings an easy warmth and old-school showman charm to Mayor Menlove, particularly in his scenes opposite Maulik Pancholy’s wonderfully restrained Reverend Layton. Oscar has the kind of genial stage presence that makes even relatively small moments land cleanly, and with an impact greater than the show itself.

Of course, leading the company are Brightman and Chase as dating doctors Josh and Melissa, who function as the show’s skeptical anchor and romantic counterweight. Brightman, whose Josh is morally opposed to singing, provides plenty of comedy through his deadpan dismissal of the musical lifestyle surrounding him in Schmigadoon. He is balanced by Melissa who, like much of the audience, cannot imagine anything more desirable than living in a world of spontaneous song and dance. Their dynamic is compelling at first, but once they are absorbed into the larger world of Schmigadoon, both characters become noticeably less interesting than the eccentric townspeople surrounding them in Linda Cho’s bright pastel costumes. It is difficult to compete with characters who seem permanently moments away from launching into a kick line.
What ultimately makes Schmigadoon work so well is that Cinco Paul’s book has far more heart than one might expect from a musical built almost entirely on parody. Beneath the barrage of one-liners and references is a genuine affection for the genre itself. The show never fully drifts into sentimentality, nor should it, but it develops just enough emotional sincerity to make the audience unexpectedly invested. That balance between satire and sincerity, parody and affection is what ultimately gives Schmigadoon its shape. Schmigadoon may lovingly spoof the Golden Age musical, but beneath all the satire, it never quite lets go of the thing it’s parodying, and that’s where its real charm lives.
4/5 stars
2 hours and 30 minutes, one intermission
Nederlander Theatre



