This is a spoiler-free review of season one of Schmigadoon!, which is now streaming on Apple TV+.
There’s a battle raging at the heart of Schmigadoon!, and I don’t mean the one between its central lovers. The comedy-musical series from Apple TV+ centers on a couple from New York City, who are on the brink of breaking up when they accidentally tumble into a magical realm where people spontaneously burst into song. But while they bicker, the major conflict is between the music’s earnest sentimentality and the show’s smug cynicism. It’s as if this six-episode series doesn’t know who its audience is.
Created by Cinco Paul and Ken Daurio and directed by Barry Sonnenfeld, Schmigadoon! parodies musicals from The Golden Age of theater with a jaunty mash-up of influences. Borrowing a plot device from Brigadoon, the titular town appears in the mist, a seeming safe haven for Melissa Gimble (Saturday Night Live’s Cecily Strong) and Josh Skinner (Key & Peele’s Keegan-Michael Key), two lovers lost on an arduous hike that was meant to bring them closer together. Here, the colors are violently vibrant. The townsfolk dress in prim attire: long, full-skirted dresses for the women, and dapper suits for the men. Their cheeks are all ruddy with the robust rouge of stage make-up. And — of course — they break into song, eagerly and often.
To Melissa, who has long cherished American musicals of the ‘40s-‘60s, this is a dream come true, but Josh is anxious to escape from the first chorus. Of course, it’s not so simple. A leprechaun (borrowed from Finian’s Rainbow) informs them that they can’t cross the bridge out of town until they’ve found true love. So, they look elsewhere for love, coming across an array of allusions to memorable musicals. There’s a flirtatious farmer’s daughter (Dove Cameron) plucked from Oklahoma!, a stuffy but dashing doctor (Jaime Camil) from The Sound of Music, and a sneering preacher’s wife (Kristin Chenoweth) and the sweet but stern schoolmarm (Ariana DeBose), both visiting from The Music Man. Many more musicals will be name-dropped by Melissa, but the music from Schmigadoon! takes these references to another level.
Songs from all of the above as well as Kiss Me Kate, Carousel, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, and others will be mined for parodies. Some are essential for the plot, like “Schmigadoon,” which sets up the town, its tone and crucial figures. Others are silly, like the overlong ode “Corn Pudding” or the sex-ed song “Va-Gi-Na” (in the style of “Do-Re-Mi”). Some even scratch at sincere emotion, like Mrs. Menlove’s (Ann Harada) yearning ballad about her husband, “He’s a Queer One, That Man of Mine.” But few of the songs are all that good. Several overstay their welcome, and that’s supposed to be funny: Another verse, another reprise, another cutaway to an over-it New Yorker. Other songs feel like shallow spoofery. They mock the cheery veneer of these musicals with the only commentary being the clucking of the cynical lovers, who refuse to sing along. It’s as if the writers saddled their series with its own haters, a Statler and Waldorf who aren’t even interested in cracking jokes as much as pointing out problematic content. Yes, old-school musicals are littered with creepy elements, troubling gender norms, and racism. But pointing that out with a snotty aside isn’t entertaining or all that deep.
Schmigadoon! is at its best when it gets out of its own way and lets its Broadway ensemble show their stuff. A cavalcade of incredible performers pop up, including Wicked’s Kristin Chenoweth, Nine’s Jane Krakowski, Moulin Rouge’s Aaron Tveit, Cabaret’s Alan Cumming, Avenue Q’s Ann Harada, and Hamilton’s Ariana DeBose. While the music overall is underwhelming, several songs offer showstopper moments that give these stars the space to shine. They belt. They croon. They tap dance. They pull off operettas and an 18-page-long group number that brings the whole town into the mix. The enthusiasm of these performers makes Schmigadoon! exciting in a way its snarky premise can’t.
Sadly, these characters are given short shrift. Most are painted only in the broadest of terms, their plotlines adding a bit of color but little emotional depth. Krakowski’s hot Hitchcock Blonde is a featured role (perhaps fitting, as that’s how she won her Tony for Nine). Tveit’s sexy rapscallion is enchanting, but essentially a one-note joke. The Menloves get the most poignant arc of the townspeople, but its path is obvious from the moment you hear their last name. Other stories are either predictable or abruptly abandoned, including one that seemed rich for drama and romance. Perhaps they might be explored if the show gets a second season. Still, this lazy disregard for structure and storytelling is irksome.
Aside from the war in tone and the wasting of opportunities in this parody realm, there’s another big problem at the heart of this rom-com musical series: its lovers lack luster. Coming from a background in sketch comedy, Key and Strong have stellar comedic timing, which brings bite to their bickering. However, they have zero chemistry as an onscreen couple. It’s easy enough to buy them as co-workers, but there’s little intimacy in their interactions. Even in the flashbacks to their better days, there’s no spark. Thus, the romance at this show’s core never really catches on to burn bright. So, how are we to root for these lovers to reconnect?