By Christopher Caggiano

Capsule reviews of five new musicals that opened this month on Broadway

The Broadway season thus far has been a bit of a disappointment. Lots of new shows have opened, but very few were worth recommending, at least from where I sat. Over the past month, five new musicals have opened on Broadway and, while not all of them deliver, a couple represent shining lights in an otherwise dim season. Here’s my take on this latest crop of musicals, from surprising standouts to disappointing duds.

Maybe Happy Ending

Maybe Happy Ending wasn’t on my radar before its Broadway announcement, but boy am I glad that it came along. In a season with few genuinely enjoyable productions — except for the hysterical Oh, Mary! — this small, funny, and very touching musical completely disarmed me with its many charms. Beneath its quirky premise of two robots falling in love lies, believe it or not, some genuine drama and themes that should resonate with anyone who’s ever pondered mortality.

The plot centers on two obsolete Korean robots, Oliver and Claire, who are grappling with unending downtime and a dearth of replacement parts. Because Oliver refuses to believe he is actually retired, the pair take a road trip to reconnect with Oliver’s former owner and to fulfill Claire’s dream of seeing the fireflies on Jeju Island. Yeah, I know. But the firefly scene is an absolute highlight of the show, with some stunning stagecraft and a few deft staging touches that I won’t spoil here. Trust me, it’s gorgeous.

The small but mighty cast of four includes Darren Criss and Helen J. Shen, who bring charm and strong vocals to the roles of Oliver and Claire. Dez Duron (of The Voice) is a silky voiced smoothie as Gil Brentley, a heartthrob jazz singer, while Marcus Choi is engaging as James (Oliver’s owner) and in a host of other roles. This device actually becomes an adorable running gag, as Oliver thinks every man that he and Claire come across is James. Because, in a way, he is.

The creative team of Will Aronson (book and music) and Hue Park (lyrics and book) are Broadway newcomers, but they more than earn their place with supple pop melodies and deceptively simple, heartfelt lines like, “The ending’s not the most important part” and “Maybe this, right now, is happy.” Under the delicate direction of Tony winner Michael Arden, the show assiduously avoids treacle and ends up being genuinely adorable.

Maybe Happy Ending is this year’s Kimberly Akimbo. At this point, it’s the one to beat for the Tony.

A Wonderful World: The Louis Armstrong Musical

A Wonderful World sets out to celebrate the life and legacy of jazz legend Louis Armstrong, but its ambition to cover most of his life ends up working against it. Like many jukebox musicals, it struggles with trying to cover too much, and winds up delivering a rushed, newsreel-style journey through Armstrong’s illustrious career.

The script relies heavily on flat expository dialogue, failing to linger on moments long enough to create genuine drama or emotional resonance. Even the explorations of racial struggles feel obligatory and underdeveloped. In general, the narrative offers no meaningful point of view, beyond acknowledging Armstrong’s occasional moral failings.

James Monroe Iglehart admirably captures Armstrong’s voice and mannerisms, but the cardboard characterization leaves him little to work with. The show’s talented supporting cast is strong, particularly the four actresses portraying Armstrong’s wives — Dionne Figgins, Jennie Harney-Fleming, Kim Exum, and Darlesia Cearcy — all of whom deliver powerhouse vocals. Unfortunately, the relationships lack the depth or the stage time to make them feel believable.

Dance occasionally steps in to bridge scene changes, a telltale sign of narrative gaps, but Rickey Tripp’s choreography provides an infectious energy. The tap choreography is particularly rousing, especially during a duet between Iglehart as Armstrong and Dewitt Fleming Jr. as Stepin Fetchit. Dewitt himself provides the tap choreography throughout the show. And during the Cotton Club number, the show admirably pays homage to both the Nicholas Brothers and the Berry Brothers, two sensational dance teams from the era.

A Wonderful World whisks the audience from New Orleans to Chicago to New York and beyond, but the action never feels transporting. The classic songs are a joy to hear, but the drama rarely lands. That said, the finale featuring the glorious title song comes close to redeeming the show. But not quite.

Tammy Faye

The Palace Theatre itself may shine after its years-long renovation — now more open and accessible following its 30-foot elevation to make room for ground-floor retail — but the theater’s current resident, Tammy Faye, is anything but accessible. Actually, the theater may have felt less congested simply because the house was less than half full — the balcony was completely empty and there was only a smattering of people in the mezzanine.

This musical about the rise and fall of televangelists Tammy Faye and Jim Bakker has already announced an early closure after less than a month on Broadway. And, truthfully, it’s no great loss. Elton John’s lifeless score for Tammy Faye feels like déjà vu for anyone who remembers the dreadful flop Lestat in the same venue.

The show attempts to chronicle Tammy and Jim’s meteoric rise, with a feel-good message of “Hope, not hate! Fun, not fear!” in contrast to the fire and brimstone of their evangelical contemporaries like Jerry Falwell. But where the subject matter cries out for campy, irreverent fun, Tammy Faye opts for painful earnestness, attempting to canonize its titular character, laughably, as the patron saint of the gay community. Instead of satire, we’re given a heavy-handed plea to absolve Tammy Faye, even in the face of a second act that devolves into a dour unraveling of Jim and Tammy’s profligate empire.

Katie Brayben’s strong performance as Tammy Faye — an Olivier winner in London — may be the show’s highlight, but even she struggles to bring spark to the flat material. Two-time Tony winner Christian Borle flails and sputters in his attempt to make Jim Bakker believable and somewhat sympathetic, while two-time Tony winner Michael Cerveris as Jerry Falwell is relegated to the status of a two-dimensional villain.

The songs with music by Elton John and lyrics by Jake Shears of The Scissor Sisters are, for the most part, instantly forgettable. Attempts at humor, like the cringeworthy “He’s Inside Me,” fail to land. (Get it? He’s inside me! Like Jesus! But it’s a double entendre. You see, “inside me” could also mean…)

The energetic supporting cast members work up a considerable sweat trying to make the show work, as if they could, by sheer force of will, put more butts in the seats. But their efforts are not enough to bring salvation to a show that could have been outrageous fun but ends up as dull and sad instead.

Death Becomes Her

Broadway has finally delivered a big, fun, splashy musical comedy. Death Becomes Her is a riot from start to finish. Based on the 1992 dark comedy film of the same name, Death Becomes Her dives gleefully into its story of vanity, immortality, and rivalry between two women who discover a potion for eternal youth.

Marco Pennette’s sitcom pedigree shines in the clever and frequently hilarious book, packed with zingers like, “I love her like a twin. Who stole my nutrients in the womb.” It leans a bit crude at times, but it’s all part of the over-the-top charm.

The cast is perfectly in sync with the material. Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard are sheer comic perfection as Madeline and Helen, fully embracing their characters’ rivalry and reveling in their moments to shine. Christopher Sieber brings his usual magnetism and impeccable timing to the role of Ernest, the man caught between them, while Josh Lamon steals every scene that he’s in as Stefan, Madeline’s assistant. The one misstep in casting is Michelle Williams of Destiny’s Child, who feels miscast and underwhelming as Viola, the potion’s purveyor — a role that cries out for a true Broadway diva with both the voice and the acting chops to match the role’s potential.

Julia Mattison and Noel Carey’s score is quite effective, with moments of brilliance, especially in the soliloquy numbers for Helen and Madeline that showcase the formidable talents of Hilty and Simard. Christopher Gattelli’s direction keeps the pace brisk and the laughs flowing, though his choreography is serviceable rather than standout. The real star of the production, however, might just be Tim Clothier’s striking special effects, particularly a cocktail trolley trick that was simply jaw-dropping.

Death Becomes Her delivers exactly what it promises: a wildly entertaining night at the theater, complete with laughter, spectacle, and just the right amount of camp. You know, like Tammy Faye should have been.

Swept Away

Swept Away, the new Broadway musical featuring a shanty-inflected score by the Avett Brothers, is not what anyone would call a lighthearted night at the theater. Centered on the survivors of a shipwreck and the grim choices they must make to stay alive, the show delves into themes of sacrifice and survival with an intensity that makes for a difficult, if occasionally moving, experience.

The framing device — a character called only “Mate” (Tony winner John Gallagher Jr.) recounting the shipwreck’s story at the urging of his shipmates’ ghosts — feels overly familiar, bordering on cliché. (Death Becomes Her even uses “Tell my story!” as a laugh line.) That said, John Logan’s book handles the darker aspects of the narrative with a commendable sensitivity, and by the time the survivors dictate goodbye messages to their loved ones, the show’s emotional weight is undeniable.

The songs, mostly drawn from the Avett Brothers’ previous recordings, are spirited though not quite infectious. There’s a strange disconnect in tone. For example, some of the more upbeat numbers come off as jarringly out of place given the dire circumstances, especially during scenes set in the lifeboat. Still, the score isn’t the show’s main problem — the unrelenting bleakness of the story makes Swept Away a challenge to sit through, even as it manages moments of genuine poignancy.

The performances are the production’s saving grace. John Gallagher Jr. starts off overly mannered as Mate but builds to a raw, heartbreaking release of grief. Stark Sands’s Big Brother initially strikes an overly strident note, but eventually displays a touching vulnerability. Adrian Blake Enscoe makes an impressive Broadway debut as Little Brother, bringing a quiet strength and sympathy to his role.

While Swept Away is admirably executed and boasts standout performances, the heavy tone and uneven musical integration may leave some audiences adrift. It’s an ambitious effort, but not one likely to be everyone’s idea of a good time.

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Christopher Caggiano is a freelance writer and editor living in Stamford, CT. He has written about theater for a variety of outlets, including TheaterMania.com, American Theatre, and Dramatics magazine. He also taught musical-theater history for 16 years and is working on numerous book projects based on his research.