By Lucy Komisar
It is classic musical farce. Book, music and lyrics by Cinco Paul based on the Apple TV series*. Melissa (Sara Chase) and Josh (Alex Brightman) are a couple in crisis. They met at the hospital where they are doctors when a candy machine didn’t work. He told her to kick it. She did. Every Snickers bar on planet Earth came tumbling out. An omen of sweetness to come. Cut to two years later: they’re in bed, staring at their phones, barely speaking. The candy has lost its magic.
Hoping to save their relationship, they book a couples retreat in the woods. They argue. They get lost. And then — poof — they stumble into Schmigadoon, a fairy-tale village complete with painted wooden toy houses arranged around a gazebo in the town square. It looks like a storybook. It sounds like one too. Credit director/choreographer Christopher Gattelli.
Here’s the catch: everyone sings. All the time. And not pop songs or show tunes you’ve never heard. These are the bone-deep melodies of the American musical canon — “Oklahoma,” “The Sound of Music,” “Carnival,” “The Music Man,” “The King and I.” The villagers live and breathe Rodgers and Hammerstein (and their ilk) as if oxygen depended on it. A leprechaun with a red beard informs our heroes they can’t leave until they find true love.
The fun of the evening is watching two cynical, phone-addicted moderns navigate a world where people burst into earnest four-part harmony about corn and moonlight. Anything they say starts a song — even “corn pudding.” Melissa joins in. Josh does not. (“Corny” also describes the show, in a nice way.)
The townsfolk are a delight. The hokey mayor (Brad Oscar, strong baritone) croons about love waiting somewhere. But the parson’s wife, Mildred Layton (Ana Gasteyer), with a twisted face, squinty eyes, and a magnificent nasty scream runs a morality police. She doesn’t like dirty books — Chaucer, Balzac. She asks the pastor for scripture. He says “love thy neighbor.” She says: not that one. One of the mean ones.
Women then parade out desserts of a distinctly sexual nature: a huge cucumber, two cantaloupes. The townsfolk not only sing but perform great flouncy dances — kicks, twirls, terrific choreography by Gattelli.
Danny Bailey (Max Clayton, a brilliant dancer), runs a carnival tunnel of love (shout-out to the musical “Carnival”). His number: no woman is going to tie this baby down. You can’t tame him. This buck was meant to be free. He twirls, kicks, charms.
Betsy (McKenzie Kurtz), who has fallen for Josh, has a wide mouth full of teeth, a papa with a rifle, and a shriek you won’t forget. She declares “I’m not that kind of gal” in a number straight out of Ado Annie in “Oklahoma.”
Bailey, now in love with Melissa, sings a “Carnival”-style fantasy about having a child — what if it’s a boy, what if it’s a girl, he’s gonna get some money. Melissa insists: “I’m not pregnant. I have an IUD. I’m engaged to Dr. Skinner.”
A favorite: a duet between Melissa and Florence, the mayor’s wife (Ann Harada), called “What’s the Matter with Men?” Melissa: “Bums and bores…Starting wars.” Melissa is a strong independent woman.
Josh, meanwhile, challenges the schoolroom fantasy where actors play the kids: “You realize these are actually adults.” They do a jazzy number with tap.
The town doctor (Ivan Hernandez) is a stern father figure who refuses to help a woman having a child out of wedlock with a sailor. Enter Melissa, who is — conveniently — a gynecologist. A very naïve young woman asks where the baby comes out. Melissa picks up a guitar and delivers a glorious Julie Andrews-style “Do-Re-Mi” song (you remember, “doe a deer a female deer”):
“Genitals are how we reproduce.
Ovaries make eggs for you and me
Urethra is how the sperm get loose
Cervix is where they can swim free
Fallopian tubes are where both of
them meet
Uterus is where cells start to
sprout
Placenta is how they get to eat
‘Til the baby comes straight out — the vagina!”
I quote it all because it’s a great song for kids! It’s worth the whole show.
Subplots multiply. The mayor and pastor discover they might be “a thing”: “I thought I was the only one” — a song about a dessert. Danny gets shot: “You done killed me. Will never walk alone.” And then there’s the appearance of the suave Contessa (Afra Hines), former love interest of the doctor now hitting on Melissa, who says: “So you’re a Nazi.” She replies: “Of course I’m a Nazi.”
Underneath all the silliness are hidden personal connections that will be revealed. And fixed. That’s the musical theater promise.
The highlight of the evening belongs to Ana Gasteyer. Her parson’s wife launches into a “Music Man”-style complaint: “We got tribulation, we’ve got troubles” — complete with a rant about billiard parlors. She is a marvel. “At the root of it: two strangers,” she sings. “Vote for Layton for mayor.”
Melissa’s voice is charming, full, and she belts a showstopper. Josh is a charmer. Chase and Brightman have terrific chemistry — she’s the frazzled pragmatist, he’s the bemused pushover, and together they sell every exasperated glance and reluctant duet.
The book is clever without being cruel. It loves musicals too much to sneer at them. Instead, it gently mocks the tropes — the sudden declarations of love, the perfectly timed ensemble entrances, the inexplicable existence of a town where everyone knows the same choreography — while letting the music do its warm, silly work.
“Schmigadoon!” is a valentine to anyone who has ever hummed “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'” in the shower. It’s goofy, big-hearted, and exactly as clever as it needs to be.
*I have never in my life watched an Apple TV series, but who knew!
“Schmigadoon!” Book, music and lyrics by Cinco Paul, directed/choreographed by Christopher Gattelli. Nederlander Theater, 208 West 41st St., NYC. Runtime 2hs30min. Opened April 20, 2026, closes Sept 6, 2026.