Not just about cats

Believe the hype.

The cast of Cats: The Jellicle Ball. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Has there ever been a more devastating read than Roy Cohn’s summation of Cats in Angels in America? “It’s about cats.” Well, probably. The line echoes Andrew Lloyd Webber’s explanation to Harold Prince (“Hal, this is just about cats”), and he probably didn’t intend for that to be a dismissal. Still, the Tony Kushner quote has long been my association with the musical, a reminder to never try to find any real meaning in the show. It’s just not that deep.

Generally speaking, this is helpful guidance when seeing Cats. You can focus on the dancing. You can focus on the silly names (T.S. Eliot kind of snapped with Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer). You can focus on whichever beltress has been tasked with singing “Memory.” For me, the notorious 2019 film adaptation—a movie which you can’t prove did not cause the pandemic—was really the turning point on Cats. It was so stupid and ugly that I was forced to imprint on it. It made me feel certain that the best this show can be is a glorious mess, and truthfully, there are few things I love more.

Then I saw Cats: The Jellicle Ball, and something shifted. Cats was suddenly… good. Urgent, alive, imbued with a profundity I could never have expected. The high-concept approach was not gimmicky but essential. And all memories of Ian McKellen lapping up milk, the infamous “Butthole Cut,” and James Corden were instantly wiped from my mind. It took over 40 years, but this is the way Cats was always meant to be seen.

Co-directed by Zhailon Levingston and Bill Rauch, PAC NYC’s production of the ALW musical moves the story from London alleyways to a New York drag ball, with the titular felines voguing their way down the runway as they vie for 10’s across the board (and a trip to the Heaviside Layer). It’s such a seamless adaptation that it makes you wonder why no one had thought of it before. Of course, it’s quite possible that others had, when you consider the unfortunate reality that mainstream theater has generally been more welcoming to anthropomorphized cats than to Black and brown queer people.

Cats: The Jellicle Ball doesn’t merely feature queer people; it overwhelms the audience with queer joy, something that few shows even tap into. The vibes are impeccable, and the crowd responds accordingly. Theatergoers encouraged to be reactive still tend to hold back, and you can feel a bit of that hesitation as the production ramps up. By the second act, though, the audience is punctuating their cheers with clacking fans and leaping to their feet after a perfectly executed death drop. The Jellicle Ball has an inescapable pull, and letting yourself fall into it is pure theatrical bliss.

Junior LaBeija as Gus and Shereen Pimentel as Jellylorum in Cats: The Jellicle Ball. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

But the queer joy of the production isn’t what surprised me—it’s the way this Cats is suddenly about something. By giving a silly show a very real cultural context, the adapters have created something profoundly moving.

After a series of projections introducing the audience to the Founding House Mothers, we meet Gus the Theatre Cat. He’s played by Junior LaBeija, a member of the House of LaBeija for over 50 years. Suddenly his song is imbued with history—real history, not cat history—and the respect and reverence from the younger performers feel earned. I think there are plenty of reasons to appreciate Cats when it’s just about cats, but it’s hard to argue that it doesn’t hit harder when it has meaning.

The casting across the board—which includes performers of all genders, many of whom have a background in ballroom—speaks to the authenticity that makes this Cats such an achievement. You could say the same for the choreography by Omari Wiles and Arturo Lyons, who also come from the scene, and who say in their program note, “We accepted the opportunity to choreograph this reimagination of Cats to center Ballroom culture.” This attention to detail and care sets a new standard for high-concept productions—and yes, for Cats itself.

For those of us who do appreciate trash, rest assured that there’s room for all interpretations of the material, even if The Jellicle Ball has instantly established itself as the best one. We still have Rebel Wilson’s Jennyanydots, and no one can take that away from us. But don’t miss your opportunity to see a fabulous, stirring, and completely transformative production of one of the most successful musicals of all time—and maybe keep your fingers crossed for a “now and forever” Broadway transfer.

Cats: The Jellicle Ball runs through August 11 at PAC NYC. Buy tickets here.

10 performances I love that weren't nominated for Tonys

Only nine were eligible, but that's neither here nor there.

Corey Cott as Bobby in The Heart of Rock and Roll. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there were kind of a lot of Broadway shows this past year. Some people—not me, obviously, people who are much ruder—might say it was a season of quantity over quality. Yes, there were a fair number of semi-forgettable plays and musicals that came and went, but there were certainly some standouts. And in the shows that weren’t quite worthy of commendation, there were often performances that elevated the material.

Even in an overstuffed year, many of these actors were nominated for Tonys. But not all! There are seven nominees for Best Featured Actress in a Musical, and I’d argue that still isn’t enough. With that in mind, I’ve decided to take a moment to shout out some of the performances I’m still thinking about that didn’t earn nominations. This isn’t me making a case for swapping out any of the actual nominees—it’s just an excuse to celebrate a handful of actors I want to celebrate.

And yes, one of the actors on my list is Tony nominated for a different performance, and was not eligible for the one I’m singling out, but this is my list and, frankly, I can do what I want.

1. Ricky Ubeda, Illinoise

Ricky Ubeda as Henry and the cast of Illinoise. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

I’m grateful to be an Outer Critics Circle member for many reasons, including the fact that we nominated Ricky Ubeda for his stunning work in Illinoise. So You Think You Can Dance fans know that his dancing is undeniable, but Ubeda’s performance in Illinoise goes beyond his effortless movements—so much of it is carried in his face, which conveys joy, love, grief, and painful longing without him ever uttering a word.

2. Brent Comer, The Outsiders

Brody Grant as Ponyboy, Jason Schmidt as Soda, and Brent Comer as Darry in The Outsiders. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

The cast recording of The Outsiders has solidified something for me: The Darry songs are the best ones in the show. That’s in large part thanks to Brent Comer, who, yes, sounds incredible, but also beautifully captures his character’s precarious position as a young man suddenly thrust into a parenting role he wasn’t ready for. There’s so much exhaustion and frustration, but also a tenderness that radiates between all three Curtis brothers.

3. and 4. Chris Stack and Andrew R. Butler, Stereophonic

We are so overdue for a Best Ensemble Tony, because as much as I’m delighted that five of the seven actors in Stereophonic got Tony noms, the remaining two should be there, too. (Maybe just a separate category for Best Performance in Stereophonic, not that I could pick.) Chris Stack has a less showy part, but his restraint makes those moments where Simon is pushed past his breaking point resonate harder. And Andrew R. Butler’s comic timing and idiosyncrasies break up the play’s tension for a much-needed release.

5. Arielle Jacobs, Here Lies Love

Arielle Jacobs as Imelda Marcos and the cast of Here Lies Love. Photo by Billy Bustamante, Matthew Murphy, and Evan Zimmerman.

The trick of Here Lies Love is in the way it lures the audience into compassion for Imelda Marcos before twisting the knife. In the Broadway production, the show’s success in doing so had much to do with the performance of Arielle Jacobs, who finds the humanity in a young Imelda without sacrificing her edge. That makes her transformation into ruthlessness both emotionally affecting and completely inevitable.

6. Krystal Joy Brown, Merrily We Roll Along

Krystal Joy Brown as Gussie Carnegie and Jonathan Groff as Franklin Shepard in Merrily We Roll Along. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

There’s been endless (justified!) celebration of the core trio of Merrily We Roll Along—Jonathan Groff, Daniel Radcliffe, and Linsday Mendez, all Tony-nominated—that the production’s other actors haven’t gotten nearly enough attention. Among them, Krystal Joy Brown, who gives Gussie so much nuance beyond diva with a nasty streak. Tracking the way she changes as the show moves backwards in time is one of this Merrily’s subtler pleasures.

7. Corey Cott, The Heart of Rock and Roll

I refuse to apologize for how much I love this very silly Huey Lewis musical, which went completely ignored by the Tonys. I get it, and yet I would have thrown a little love Corey Cott’s way. He really is a powerhouse on that stage: funny, sexy, vocally insane. And yes, it helps that The Heart of Rock and Roll keeps him sleeveless more often than not. (Best Featured Actor in a Musical for Corey Cott’s Arms.)

8. Susan Pourfar, Mary Jane

Rachel McAdams as Mary Jane and Susan Pourfar as Chaya in Mary Jane. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

I saw Mary Jane Off-Broadway years ago, with the always exceptional Carrie Coon in the title role. Rachel McAdams is also excellent and would be my pick for Best Actress this year. But the performance that has stuck with me across both productions is Susan Pourfar’s, who plays two different overwhelmed mothers who connect with Mary Jane. Her two scenes might be my favorites in the play.

9. Justin Guarini, Once Upon a One More Time

Justin Guarini as Prince Charming in Once Upon a One More Time. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

How lucky are we that Justin Guarini has taken his considerable talents to theater? His performance of “Circus” in Once Upon a One More Time is something I still think about, maybe more often than is normal. But it was just that good! Guarini is always so funny, so charming, so thoroughly committed that he can sell just about anything. And while I really enjoyed the Britney Spears jukebox musical, that’s the kind of actor you need to make the material work.

10. William Jackson Harper, Primary Trust*

Yes, with an asterisk. I know, I know. Not a play eligible for Tonys, and William Jackson Harper was nominated this year for Uncle Vanya. And yet! I will always take an opportunity to extol the virtues of Primary Trust, a play I have written about before and that has since won a well-deserved Pulitzer. Harper is truly one of my favorite working actors, and his work in Primary Trust was revelatory—complicated, vulnerable, heartbreaking. I’d like to think his Vanya nom is at least a little bit for his performance as Kenneth.

Oops!...I did it again

The jukebox shows this season were largely pleasant surprises.

Maleah Joi Moon as Ali and the cast of Hell’s Kitchen. Photo by Joan Marcus.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve made my way through several of this season’s shows by looking at the musicals adapted from movies—or adapted from books that were also adapted into movies, work with me here—but there’s another IP-forward genre I haven’t yet touched on: the jukebox musical.

I’ve not been particularly kind to the jukebox musical in the past—and calling it “IP-forward” isn’t exactly generous. But it’s true! Like musicals based on popular films, these shows are designed to appeal to an audience that is already familiar with the material (and therefore more likely to spend $200 on a ticket). When I wrote about last season’s jukebox musicals, I compared the two genres and noted that jukebox shows were a “tougher pill to swallow for me”: “While I’ve seen plenty of terrible musical adaptations of movies, they at least mostly have original scores.” This season, however, I have to be honest: The jukebox shows are superior.

Not all of them, of course, but on the whole, yes, I’ve had a better time at the musicals featuring songs I already knew (or not, given that Huey Lewis was almost entirely brand new to me) than at the adaptations with sadly forgettable original scores. To actually break down why that is—or, more specifically, why I liked what I liked—I’m returning to one of my beloved (by me) rubrics and scoring these shows in five key categories.

Here’s how that works—

Originality of story: Is there something that feels fresh about this story, or is it just telling an artist’s story and falling back on all the most familiar tropes? (X/10)

Preponderance of bops: I don’t think this needs any explanation. How many bops are there? Are they of a high quality? It’s subjective, but I’m right. (X/10)

Integration of music: Are the songs entirely diegetic, and if so, do they still work to move the story forward? If people are breaking into song, does it feel labored? (X/10)

Musical self-awareness: The worst jukebox musicals take themselves (and the artists they’re celebrating) way too seriously. Are we having any fun with the material? Are tongues firmly planted in cheeks? (X/10)

Audience self-awareness: Does the audience know they are seeing a live performance? The more they sing along, the lower this score is. Whether or not it’s fair to blame that on the show, I’m going to. (X/10)

Total score: X/10

I’ll be going through three shows that are still running (two of which are nominated for Best Musical at the Tonys), and one that should still be running, but has been closed for almost eight months at this point. And no nomination for Justin Guarini. How come, Chief Willoughby?

Once Upon a One More Time

The cast of Once Upon a One More Time. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Originality of story: OK, look, a feminist subversion of fairy tales is not that original at this point. On the other hand, Cinderella’s self-actualization being directly inspired by Betty Friedan is legitimately creative, as are the mechanics of the world the show builds. (7/10)

Preponderance of bops: Gives you basically every Britney song you could ask for, from the biggest hits to slightly deeper cuts, and ends with a life-changing “...Baby One More Time”/“Gimme More”/“Till the World Ends” megamix. Slight deduction for clumsy changed lyrics. (9/10)

Integration of music: The songs work surprisingly well in context, though as referenced above, that sometimes involves altering the lyrics more than is ideal. Ultimately, you’re so happy to hear all your Britney faves that it doesn’t really matter. (7/10)

Musical self-awareness: Because it’s a jukebox musical that isn’t about the artist’s life (blessedly true of three of these shows!), it really gets to lean into the satire. As with the broader Max Martin jukebox show & Juliet, it still takes the importance of its message a bit too seriously. (8/10)

Audience self-awareness: Unfortunately, I did sit across from a woman singing at the top of her lungs the entire time. That having been said, if more Britney diehards had paid full price for those orchestra seats, the show would still be open. (6/10)

Total score: 37/50

Hell’s Kitchen

Chris Lee as Knuck and Maleah Joi Moon as Ali in Hell’s Kitchen. Photo by Joan Marcus.

Originality of story: Alas, the Alicia Keys jukebox musical falls into the trap of being about Alicia Keys—though it’s really just inspired by the artist’s life and mostly fictionalized. That might be more interesting if the original story allowed for any meaningful conflict. (4/10)

Preponderance of bops: You will hear every Alicia Keys song that you know and a handful that you don’t unless you’re a superfan. (Even then, there’s original music here, too.) Some of the weaker new arrangements do take things down a bit. (7/10)

Integration of music: A mixed bag, really. The book does a decent job of making the songs fit the story, but you kind of wish it wouldn’t give so many of the biggest hits to characters who aren’t Ali. Thankfully, all is forgiven once “Empire State of Mind” closes the show. (6/10)

Musical self-awareness: While it’s sort of about Alicia Keys, it’s not hagiography, so points there. At the same time, it’s often overly sincere, despite not really being about anything. It keeps hinting at bigger, more challenging themes, and then quietly dropping them. (6/10)

Audience self-awareness: Kudos to this audience for resisting the urge to try to match the cast’s stellar voices. A few people joined in on “Empire State of Mind,” but as with “Sweet Caroline” in A Beautiful Noise, how can you not? (8/10)

Total score: 31/50

Hell’s Kitchen is running at the Shubert Theatre. Buy tickets here.

Illinoise

Ricky Ubeda as Henry and the cast of Illinoise. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Originality of story: A gay boy falling in love with and losing his straight best friend—and having a lot of feelings about that—is not something most of us haven’t seen and/or experienced. But the show does take interesting (and appropriately heartbreaking) diversions along the way. (8/10)

Preponderance of bops: Does Sufjan write bops? That’s probably not the most accurate descriptor. Nevertheless, we’re talking about songs from a perfect album, reshuffled and sung by very talented artists with gorgeous new arrangements. No complaints here. (10/10)

Integration of music: Without any dialogue, the songs and the dancing do all the heavy lifting, and they do so effortlessly. Knocking off a couple points for the overly literal depiction of some of the lyrics, which probably could have stayed metaphor. (8/10)

Musical self-awareness: Hard to score this one! In most cases when I’m looking at a jukebox show, I’m considering how tongue-in-cheek it is, but there is nothing more sincere than Illinoise. In this case, however, that’s what we need. This show knows exactly what it is. (9/10)

Audience self-awareness: No one is singing along, they’re too busy having gay feelings and suppressing sobs. (10/10)

Total score: 45/50

Illinoise is running at the St. James Theatre. Buy tickets here.

The Heart of Rock and Roll

Corey Cott as Bobby Stivic in The Heart of Rock and Roll. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Originality of story: Do you know what The Heart of Rock and Roll is about? Not Huey Lewis, I can tell you that much! No, this is the story of a man who works for a cardboard box manufacturer but has dreams of rock stardom. More importantly, it’s about the power of love/Corey Cott’s arms. (7/10)

Preponderance of bops: There are definitely bops to be had, but as someone whose only familiarity with Huey Lewis was “The Power of Love” and “Hip to Be Square,” I found the songs to be pretty samey. Nevertheless, the vibes are immaculate. (7/10)

Integration of music: Even though the lead character wants to be a rock star, the vast majority of music isn’t diegetic, which is a pleasant surprise. Does that mean all the songs make sense in context? Absolutely not! (7/10)

Musical self-awareness: What makes this show simply irresistible (that’s a Robert Palmer song, different guy) is how much fun it’s having being a silly ‘80s jukebox musical. It’s also self-aware enough to keep Corey Cott shirtless and/or sleeveless for almost the whole show. (9/10)

Audience self-awareness: I’m sure there are diehard Huey Lewis fans out there, but if there were any in my audience, they were very polite. Everyone also cheered the cardboard box dance number the right amount. (9/10)

Total score: 39/50

The Heart of Rock and Roll is running at the James Earl Jones Theatre. Buy tickets here.

Movie or musical? (Part 2)

From elephants to Ponyboys.

The cast of The Outsiders. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

We did it—we made it through the 2023-2024 Broadway season. I saw a staggering number of shows over the last several weeks, and while I have arrived on the other side, I’m reminded of the tagline on the Texas Chain Saw Massacre poster: “Who will survive and what will be left of them?” What I’m saying is that I have been changed, and maybe not for good.

I’ve been so busy, in fact, that I haven’t been able to share my thoughts on most of what I saw. And it’s important for me to do that in a semi-formal way, because right now when someone asks me what I’ve enjoyed this season, I draw a complete blank. Not because I didn’t like anything, but because it’s all a bit of a blur until I untangle it. (Were several of the shows this season especially forgettable? Yes, but that’s only part of the problem.)

So I’m returning to the “movie or musical?” question with three more shows, all of which are kind of based on books but at least a little based on movies. In Part 1 (which you can read here), I covered Back to the Future, Teeth, and Tommy. Now, I’m moving on to three spring shows, including two nominated for Best Musical. And one of them is what I think is probably the frontrunner, based almost entirely on vibes, personal taste, and my desire to bring Angelina Jolie closer to EGOT status.

Note: I am always in favor of seeing live theater. I also love movies, but they are no substitute for the theatrical experience—whether they’re a pro-shot, an adaptation of a stage musical, or the inspiration for a play. This “movie or musical?” exercise is simply a way of trying to organize my thoughts about the abundance of theater options, and should only be taken as seriously as you feel like taking it. (This is the same note I included last time, and I still mean it!)

The Notebook

Joy Woods as Allie and Ryan Vasquez as Noah in The Notebook. Photo by Julieta Cervantes.

Here is where I confess that I have never liked the film The Notebook, which is typical Nicholas Sparks treacle ever-so-slightly elevated by the undeniable chemistry between Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. Before going to see the musical adaptation, I decided to revisit the movie, wondering if two decades of life might have shifted my perspective. No, it’s still maudlin nonsense with a hacky voiceover and a deeply offensive portrayal of dementia. (The MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss, however, was well deserved.)

Regretfully, I have to say that the musical takes everything I’ve always disliked about The Notebook and makes it worse. The biggest problem is that in an apparent attempt to make the story more palatable to the widest audience possible, Bekah Brunstetter’s book softens everything to a ludicrous extent. Noah doesn’t pressure Allie into going out with him, and they don’t have a dramatic break-up where she physically attacks him. Allie’s mom goes from stone cold to a little unkind. And while the show claims that it depicts a real interracial relationship in the ‘60s and ‘70s, there is not a single mention or acknowledgment of race.

The rough edges of The Notebook are sanded down into nothingness, resulting in something instantly forgettable and frankly a slog. Sadly, the score doesn’t do much to help with that. Despite being a talented singer-songwriter, Ingrid Michaelson has written something that—much like the musical’s book—could best be described as inoffensive. There’s nothing particularly wrong with the songs, but there’s nothing right about them either. However well performed they are, not a single one stands out.

Movie or musical: I already admitted that I’m a Notebook hater in any form, but I understand why people like the movie. You’re much better off watching the film, which offers more meaningful conflict and the thrill of seeing two movie stars falling in love on camera.

Water for Elephants

Isabella McCalla as Marlena and Grant Gustin as Jacob in Water for Elephants. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

I remember reading and loving Water for Elephants in 2006, but I somehow missed the movie. Turns out it’s pretty awful! For those who haven’t experienced either: Water for Elephants tells the story of Jacob Jankowski, a veterinary student who quits school and runs away with the circus after his parents are killed. Like you do. He ends up having a clandestine affair with professional horse girl Marlena, who is married to abusive ringmaster August. There’s also an elephant named Rosie.

What seemed very romantic and compelling to me at 20 now feels a bit silly, but Water for Elephants onstage makes a little more sense than Water for Elephants onscreen. The film wants to keep things grounded, which is not an easy fit, especially when it arrives at the deus ex elephant ending. The musical leans into the theatricality, giving us the ol’ razzle dazzle in the form of acrobats and aerial artists. Any time the show drags, someone does a series of impressive flips.

Of course, those flips can’t entirely distract from Water for Elephants’ many shortcomings. To name two big ones: the score is just as flimsy as The Notebook’s, and the elephant puppet feels quite lacking in a post-Lion King world. (I would kill to see Julie Taymor’s Water for Elephants, if anyone wants to make that happen.) When the musical focuses on the circus itself, it’s passably entertaining, but once it slows down for the big Act II love duet, you long for the sweet release of a stampede.

Movie or musical: Both the movie and the musical have that thing where no one even seems to be trying to make it feel like the 1930s. That’s just more forgivable onstage, as is the conceit of an elephant (spoiler alert) doing a murder. And while I can’t quite recommend Water for Elephants the musical, it’s at least a better way to spend your time than with a severely miscast Robert Pattinson and Reese Witherspoon.

The Outsiders

The cast of The Outsiders. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

I decided to save the best for last, while recognizing that many of you already stopped reading thanks to my rampant negativity. I promise I do actually enjoy things, and The Outsiders—a show I have been evangelizing to anyone who will listen over the last month—is one of those things! Despite not having grown up with The Outsiders (book or movie), I was completely won over by the musical adaptation, which pulls from S. E. Hinton’s novel and Francis Ford Coppola’s film to create something really special.

When I found out the musical was at least in part inspired by the movie, I was worried it might try too hard to be “cinematic.” And yes, there are filmed moments, but it never feels excessive like Ivo van Hove’s Network or West Side Story. (If you want to make a movie so bad, make a movie!) Part of what I appreciated about this iteration of The Outsiders is that it is distinctly theatrical. The climactic rumble is something that could only exist onstage, and also happens to feature the most stunning fight choreography I’ve ever seen.

At a very basic level, The Outsiders showcases talented performers singing some beautiful songs, and sometimes that’s all I need! While that sounds like a low bar, it’s one that many of the seasons new musicals have not cleared for me. And though it’s not the best score of the season—that honor belongs to the peerless Stereophonic—composers Jonathan Clay and Zach Chance’s “Stay Gold” easily clears Stevie Wonder’s “Stay Gold” from the film soundtrack.

Movie or musical: That’s not the only thing about The Outsiders the musical that clears The Outsiders the movie. I’m sure this is sacrilege to those who grew up with the Coppola film, but it’s really only OK. Even without the presence of the Brat Pack, the musical is richer and more emotionally resonant than the movie.

Movie or musical? (Part 1)

From DeLoreans to dentata.

Roger Bart as Doc Brown and Casey Likes as Marty McFly in Back to the Future: The Musical. Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman.

To call this theater season crowded would be a massive understatement. By my count, 300 new shows have opened this month alone (I didn’t fact-check this), and that’s on top of the many plays and musicals that came and went over the past year. While I don’t generally write traditional reviews, there’s a lot I’ve wanted to cover—and at the same time, I’ve felt daunted by the scope of the season and unsure of where to begin.

But as a person pathologically committed to lists, rankings, and other forms of categorizations, it occurred to me that one of the best ways to work through this season (at least in part) would be to organize it into trends. And the first thing that came to mind as I found myself at my fourth show of the week: movies adapted into musicals.

This is not a new trend, of course. Recent years have brought us a wide range of shows based on movies: Some Like It Hot, Almost Famous, Groundhog Day, Mrs. Doubtfire, The Band’s Visit, Mr. Saturday Night, Moulin Rouge, Mean Girls, Beetlejuice… I could go on. But there are so many this year that I actually couldn’t combine them all into one post. So, here are the first three for which I decided to pose the question, movie or musical? The category is “genre,” roughly, although try not to think about it too deeply.

Note: I am always in favor of seeing live theater. I also love movies, but they are no substitute for the theatrical experience—whether they’re a pro-shot, an adaptation of a stage musical, or the inspiration for a play. This “movie or musical?” exercise is simply a way of trying to organize my thoughts about the abundance of theater options, and should only be taken as seriously as you feel like taking it.

Back to the Future: The Musical

Nathaniel Hackmann as Biff, Casey Likes as Marty McFly, Hugh Coles as George McFly, and the cast of Back to the Future: The Musical. Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman.

I first saw Back to the Future: The Musical when I was in London, because I was morbidly curious and tickets are way more affordable there. I’ve never been a big fan of the original trilogy—or rather, I respect it from a distance, because time travel stresses me out. But I thought having no attachment to the source material might actually help, since I wouldn’t be comparing the stage show to the film.

As it turns out, the musical only really works if you love the movie and want to see a shockingly similar copy with a handful of forgettable songs peppered throughout (along with a few good ones, straight from the film). And the Broadway production is essentially identical to what I saw in London, except that the New York audience was more inclined to say lines along with the actors and interject “it’s just like the movie!” comments throughout. (When you’re right, you’re right!)

Aside from Roger Bart, who is sort of doing his own thing as Doc Brown, the rest of the cast are doing impressions of the movie actors that border on the uncanny valley. Casey Likes and Hugh Coles are both talented, but their performances are so indebted to Michael J. Fox and Crispin Glover, respectively, that it’s hard not to feel like the whole exercise is superfluous.

Movie or musical: While the flying DeLorean is admittedly fun, I can’t say it’s worth the price of admission. Stick to the movie, and if you want to see “The Power of Love” performed on a Broadway stage, check out The Heart of Rock and Roll.

Teeth

Jared Loftin as Ryan and Alyse Alan Louis as Dawn in Teeth.

As a fan of the movie Teeth and a person who is always advocating for more bloodshed onstage (revive American Psycho, you cowards), Teeth was one of my most anticipated shows of the season. It took me a while to finally see it, but it was very much worth the wait—and it’s also the only show on this list with a closing date (April 28!), so if you can manage to snag a ticket in the next week, you should absolutely do that.

I sort of assumed that Back to the Future didn’t necessitate a plot description, but Teeth is a deeper cut (although if you’re following me, maybe less so). So, briefly: Teeth follows Dawn, a devout Christian teen who preaches abstinence, while repressing her sexual urges. When her boyfriend Tobey pressures her into sex and then assaults her, she discovers that her vagina is equipped with razor-sharp teeth. (Tobey also discovers this, the hard way.)

Anna K. Jacobs’ and Michael R. Jackson’s show expands on the original film in a number of interesting ways, including deepening its thematic exploration of purity culture, and expanding its conception of toxic masculinity with incels and religious patriarchy. The songs are bitingly funny (sorry) and appropriately vicious, the kind of musical theater storytelling that answers the question, did this really need to be a musical? As a fan of Carrie the musical, that’s not something I find myself asking often, but I understand it’s sort of intrinsic to this exercise.

Movie or musical: Both versions of Teeth are very much worth your time. I do think the musical is a fascinating escalation of the film, and the rage and agency it gives Dawn feel more relevant to a 2024 audience. But the movie has some astoundingly gnarly gore and a great performance from the perpetually underappreciated Jess Weixler, so don’t miss that either.

The Who’s Tommy

Ali Louis Bourzgui as Tommy and the cast of The Who’s Tommy. Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman.

Yeah, this one is a cheat: The Who’s Tommy is not based on the 1975 Ken Russell movie, but on the 1969 rock opera album. The film is, of course, also based on the album, and both adaptations tell the story a little bit differently. This is a post comparing movies to musicals, however, so you’re just going to have to work with me here. (I guess I could have done a separate post about musicals based on albums. Thank you, Illinoise!)

I had never listened to Tommy or watched Tommy or seen The Who’s Tommy, so I rented the movie before attending the stage show. I’m going to be honest, I kind of assumed there was more of a plot, or at least something slightly grounded in reality, but no matter. Tommy is much more about the music and the vibes than about anything that actually happens. I don’t know that I was ever entirely on the film’s wavelength, but Ann-Margret is an icon, and few things bring me more joy than watching Elton John perform “Pinball Wizard.”

The musical does not have Elton John or Ann-Margret, but it does have “Pinball Wizard,” and that goes a long way. The cast is strong and the numbers are propulsive—even if you don’t know (or don’t care about) what’s going on, the production is thrilling where it needs to be. At the same time, there’s so little to latch onto that it’s easy to see where it’s lacking. Like, for example: I understand minimalist sets are what we’re doing now, but would it kill them to invest in an actual pinball machine?

Movie or musical: Neither is exactly my thing. If you like The Who, you can’t really go wrong either way. I will simply point out that only the movie features a sequence in which Ann-Margret rolls around in baked beans, so use that information as you will.