In musical storytelling, characters sing when their emotions are so overwhelming, so bubbling toward the surface, that mere words can no longer suffice as adequate expression. This form yields wonders for character development, giving nearly every scene-into-song a mini-arc; they start at A and become so emotionally changed into a state of Z, they must sing about it.
But what happens if the characters know this is happening? If they refuse the call to change, to let loose, to sing? If they wish to remain a statue of solemnity, an arms-folded critic of the earnest dive into sap that is "a musical"?
Schmigadoon!, an essential new musical TV comedy from Cinco Paul (who also writes the songs) and Ken Daurio, asks and answers this question. It's a loving homage to the classic forms of classic musical cinema, a ruthless critique of the oppressive boundaries around the form, a complicated dive into intentionality told through simple songs about corn puddin', and one of the absolutely weirdest television shows I've ever seen. By the final moments of its six-episode run, I knew I needed a Season 2, and I have absolutely no idea what else they could do. You must watch.
Melissa (Cecily Strong) and Josh (Keegan-Michael Key) are a couple going through tough times. At one point their love was magically powerful enough to make candy appear. Now, they struggle to plow through the motions — doubly so when they're literally plowing through a couples' healing camping trip in the middle of the forest. On this trip, they happen upon something strange amid the trees and fog: The magical town of Schmigadoon. In Schmigadoon, everyone sings and dances with a smile, the moral shades of gray are blown out to saturated Technicolor, and oh yeah, you can't leave. As the couple tries to figure out how to escape, they get caught up in the local affairs of the town, push their relationship to several different breaking points, and reckon with whether they can allow themselves to just shut up and sing.
Is it WandaVision with musicals instead of sitcoms? Pushing Daisies meets Crazy Ex-Girlfriend? The Pleasantville of the golden age of movie musicals? Somehow, despite being superficially similar to all these other classic genre-busters, and despite being an explicit homage to movie musicals in every facet of its formal construction, Schmigadoon! is like no other show I've ever seen. Don't get me wrong; the formal homages are plentiful, and they are beyond exquisite to absorb, leaving other modern pastiches like La La Land in the dust.
Director Barry Sonnenfeld (an Emmy winner for the aforementioned Pushing Daisies) delivers some of the most luxurious work of his career, lensing jaw-dropping numbers in bravura long takes, showcasing the beyond-talented musical performers in choreography-friendly wide angles, and giving every sequence era-appropriate intentionality. Paul's songs are immaculately arranged and produced by a powerful team including Scott M. Riesett and Doug Besterman; lush orchestrations, dense harmonies, and broadly emotional explorations make Paul's compositions, already right in the pocket of musical theater's greatest composers, soar. The ensemble cast features powerful, Broadway-tested ringers like Alan Cumming, Ann Harada, Kristen Chenoweth, Aaron Tveit, Jane Krakowski, and Ariana DeBose — all who fuse their impressive professionalism with an obvious sense of joy to play around and poke around at this form they love so dearly. Schmigadoon!, from top to tail, is catnip for musical fans, the soothing pleasures of a warm bath crossed with the surprising thrills of a roller-coaster.
But what if you're not a musical fan? You'd be something like a Josh, Key's character whose base-level cynicism blocks him in advancing toward any life goal, let alone this unexpected one of "being a protagonist in a musical." Heck, even Strong's Melissa, positioned as our more romantic, musical-loving foil, does not immediately spring to answer this call. This inherent tension — our two main characters of a musical don't want to be our two main characters of a musical — is Schmigadoon's biggest storytelling gambit, on both textual and extratextual levels (i.e. why watch a musical show starring two talented musical performers where the two of them avoid singing?).
The gambit, dear reader, pays off. By being outside, even passive-leaning protagonists in this strange new world, Josh and Melissa give the show its impetuses for sneakily powerful satire and eventual world-shattering change. If you, like the rest of the world, are sick of the white heteronormativity plaguing musical theater since its beginnings, you will find gut-level laughter in the plainly stated barbs at the form's expense ("I don't think they like our colorblind casting," says Josh in Episode 1 after Chenoweth's antagonist reveals herself to be pretty dang racist). But these pieces of satirical essaying aren't venomous or cynical in nature; they are optimistic springboards for activation, readdressing, and turning hidden pieces of progressive subtext into loud-and-proud text. No matter how broadly drawn each character feels at the beginning of the series, they all go through something new, something scary, and something that yields a new song to sing.
This brings us back to our lead characters. By fusing the interior conflicts of what they need emotionally with the exterior conflicts of what the form demands of them physically, Schmigadoon! made me crave character catharsis on a thorough, overwhelming level. I felt so aligned with these protagonists, so surprised by every change found on their journey, and so deeply moved by their final steps at the season finale. I wanted as they wanted, and the wanting ached as badly as a character in a musical aches.
In other words, Schmigadoon! takes the mini-arc of a scene-into-song — words no longer suffice so one must explode into song — and expands it out into beautiful, staggering, slow-motion detail. It's a triumph of craft, character, and courage. It's a show I can't recommend enough, a strange bird I hope never stops singing.
Grade: A
Schmigadoon! premieres on Apple TV+ July 16, 2021, with new episodes available weekly.