New York, New York Broadway Reviews

It’s a lot to pack in, but Stroman, who helmed the long-running hit The Producers, pulls out all the stops, aided by a fantastic score by John Kander, the late Fred Ebb, and additional lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda. Lesser-known songs from the Kander and Ebb canon supplement the title number and provide a gorgeously crafted blueprint for Stroman’s legendary dance sequences as well as more intimate moments of discovery. Scenic designer Beowulf Boritt captures New York City’s magic and mayhem with architectural detail and occasional whimsy (interior walls are purposefully cropped as if the city’s notoriously expensive square footage couldn’t accommodate), while projection design by Boritt and Christopher Ash and lighting design by Ken Billington flood the St. James Theatre with a dreamlike quality. The production even honors Manhattanhenge, the coveted day when the sunset aligns with Manhattan’s east-west-oriented streets.

Beowulf Boritt’s spectacular sets, enhanced by a first-rate design team, add up to a three-dimensional travelogue of New York City, from Times Square, Central Park and Grand Central Terminal to the neighborhood stoop and fire escapes full of kibitzers. Director Susan Stroman choreographs one energetic dance after another, most memorably along a steel beam in mid-air. But, even when the cast isn’t literally dancing, she suggests the bustle, hustle and swirl of New York humanity with little wordless vignettes and in other clever ways, working in tandem with the breathtaking scenery: There is a mob rubout, a street painter who outrages his subject with a portrait that looks more Basquiat than da Vinci, and in the scene in Central Park, doormen who have just been clearing the snow from their walkways, lift their shovels together to form the railing along the park’s Bow Bridge, upon which a couple smooches.

New York, New York is an affection project: a loving group tribute, with 40 producers above the title, to the 96-year-old Kander, one of Broadway’s most beloved creators. It’s an excuse for a big, old-fashioned dance on not-quite-finished materials. And thanks to the elements of it that do shine—the craftsmanship of the score, the wrought-iron fire escapes of Beowulf Boritt’s set, the splendid variety of Donna Zakowska’s costumes, the command of Uzele’s vocals, the infectious energy of the production numbers—there’s a lot to enjoy if you don’t look down.

What has most noticeably been sprinkled in is a fairy-tale tone, complete with an actual “Happy Ending,” with the aim of being a lavish love letter to NYC and all its possibilities. And despite the less felicitous moments that verge on cliché (“Life turns around, like that. In a New York minute. Things can change. Even Jimmy!”), it actually adds up to a satisfying entertainment, steadily guided by Stroman, who has obviously learned from her 2014 musical adaptation of Woody Allen’s Bullets Over Broadway, which took off with breakneck speed and never paused to breathe. New York, New York is full of wonderful, swirling movement — the streets of Manhattan come alive with strutting and spinning residents — but it also makes time for the human element.

The new show’s rah-rah tone eventually becomes numbing. This is all the more frustrating because ambivalence is baked into the title song, which alludes to the city’s mercurial temperament. “If I can make it there/I’d make it anywhere” — we’re in a tough town — is followed by “It’s up to you/New York, New York,” which deprives the singer of agency. But the show follows the triumphant template set by Frank Sinatra rather than the more ambiguous one imparted by Minnelli. In this rose-colored vision, trials are temporary, everybody gets along, and nobody runs up against New York’s bad side.

With so much going on around him, though, it hardly dampens the brassy, cheery proceedings. Your mileage will vary on whether New York, New York and it’s all singin’, all dancin’ peppiness is for you. It’s certainly an upbeat time, and one towards which you can confidently point your visiting uncle. As a friend told me before going, much like the city itself, it holds whatever energy you bring into it.

But the real star of the show is Susan Stroman, whose blockbuster direction and choreography make up for the relatively lackluster songs. Beowulf Boritt's lush, imaginative scenic design at times threatens to eclipse the performers, but they're usually up for the challenge. Each minute of New York, New York is buzzing with life, as background dancers and actors flit in and out of view, telling clever little visual stories, giving New York, New York the energy of its titular city.

Its love letter to the city often doesn’t set well on its target board of the city, especially in the confused first act. But “New York, New York,” under the savvy direction and choreography of Susan Stroman and featuring a score by John Kander and the late Fred Ebb, additional lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda and a book by David Thompson and Sharon Washington, ultimately delivers its melting-pot message with intelligence, style and, yes, good old-fashioned razzle-dazzle.

They paint a city of pink sunsets and bland cliches. And though they dance up a storm, all we get is a haze.

“New York, New York” could have used a clarifying tryout. Then again, some in its audience won’t worry so much about its thematic muddles: Beowulf Borritt’s set, as lit by Ken Billington, shows you sunsets peeking through the city’s vintage skyscrapers, bathing Manhattan’s avenues in warmth and hope. There is a lovely dance number involving rain in the city that showcases all that Stroman does so well. And there is a jazzy finale that puts Uzele up close to the audience as the jazzy music heats up the St. James. Many visitors will buy a show that gives them so much of what they think of as part of a New York visit. In those final moments, you think to yourself that all this show really needed was a greatly enhanced sense that New Yorkers actually do fall in love with each other because they are otherwise lonely. Just like everywhere else.

Even if Stroman’s never-ending choreography can occasionally feel exhausting, it’s almost impossible not to be delighted by much of her work, most notably, the inventive, tap-filled number “Wine and Peaches,” led by the wonderful Clyde Alves (as Jimmy’s boyhood friend Tommy Caggiano) and featuring some very nimble “construction workers.” Like the city it’s named after, “New York, New York” is full of promise and potential – neither of which is completely fulfilled.

In spite of the showmanship, “New York, “New York” is long-winded and undercooked. It has too many characters (which leads to sketchy characterizations and rushed scenes) and its attempt to explore racism of the period feels tacked on. On the whole, “New York, New York” seems overly concerned with trying to advertise itself as a show for tourists who want a feel-good, sanitized look at the city – a far cry from “Chicago” and “Cabaret.”

Inspired, at least in name, by Martin Scorsese’s 1977 movie starring Robert De Niro and Liza Minnelli, New York, New York is less an adaptation than it is a John Kander & Fred Ebb jukebox musical: In addition to the two very famous songs from the film – “But The World Goes ‘Round” and, of course, the title number – the Broadway production includes songs from the duo’s Golden Gate, The Rink, The Act, the unproduced Wait For Me, World, and even Funny Lady. (Lyricist Ebb died in 2004; Hamilton’s Lin-Manuel Miranda has stepped in to contribute additional lyrics.) With a pedigree like that – and toss in Susan Stroman, as fine a director-choreographer as Broadway knows, Beowulf Boritt’s dependably sumptuous sets and a costume design by Donna Zakowska to rival her work on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel – New York, New York can’t possibly be less than watchable. But it should be so much more. That it is not falls largely to the predictable, cliche-loaded book by David Thompson and Sharon Washington.

That said, there is plenty of first-rate musical making in New York, New York. Stroman gives us some of the most exciting choreography on Broadway just now; there is too much of it, though, and a good deal distracts from (or covers for the faults of) what used to be called plot. The design elements are strong, led by Boritt’s shifting views of New York. Donna Zakowska’s costumes are mostly excellent, although the couture—like the show—seems to shift from postwar to prewar. Some delicious work from Zakowska, along with hair and wig designer Sabana Majeed and whoever did the hats, is mixed in with the more generic rest. Lighting designer Ken Billington, who goes back to Chicago and the original Sweeney Todd, deserves a star of his own for his above-referenced work in the “World Goes ’Round” number.

If it were more cohesive, New York, New York could be a great show for tourists (if they can stomach the disparagement of living anywhere else), complete with classic, tap-dancing tunes that employ a large number of dancers, designers, and musicians. But would it not serve both the company and audience more if the musical was a better-crafted tribute to Kander and Ebb and the city that made them? The show concludes with the long-awaited title number, delivered by Uzele (with a delightful orchestral surprise) in unearned triumph. Perhaps the performance best summarizes the story’s message: to march on against the odds, whether they be societal or a result of misdirected efforts.

If the show’s love for its city is fervent and shared by many in the audience, the dramatization of it is muddier and filled with stereotypes and story echoes of other New York stories. Very little feels original in New York, New York; instead, this musical, directed and choreographed by Susan Stroman, feels like a reheated casserole of so many other New York romanticized narratives, stereotypes, and well-worn signifiers. The big numbers don’t feel that big, the joints linking story and music—by Kander and Ebb, with additional lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda—are creaky.

It’s going to be hard avoiding unfavorable comparisons to such other works as On The Town and A Star Is Born. And I wish I had better news to spread here. There’s a line near the end of the show in which a character says “Don’t bet against New York.” Unfortunately, I can’t say the same thing about its musical namesake.

These artists’ respective “Chicago,” “Hamilton” and “The Producers” have given a lot to the city that their latest, lesser creation is named after. SEE ALSO Director Martin Scorsese's 1977 flop "New York, New York" is now a new Broadway musical. Forgotten Scorsese film flop gets a second chance — on Broadway. But none of the ingenuity, originality and edge that made those musicals era-defining hits comes through in “New York, New York.” Instead, there is start-to-finish derivativeness in the guise of good old-fashioned nostalgia. It’s tired, sappy and deathly dull.