The Great Gatsby: A New Musical Broadway Reviews

Marc Bruni directs this entertaining, if uneven at parts, production with ease and style reminiscent of his stunning work on Beautiful: The Carole King Musical. With fierce, high octane choreography by Dominique Kelley on top of Paul Tate DePoo III’s stunning scenic and projection design (ay my performance the back LED wall did fade to black quite a few times accidentally), pleasant costume design by Linda Cho, and on the money lighting design by Cory Pattak, the world of Gatsby comes alive.

All in all, this Great Gatsby shies away from making us think hard of the blood spilled due to Gatsby’s dealings, which are relegated to lines of dialogue and the campy song “Shady.” Something about the production feels too spic and span by the time it ends: Missing is a mess left behind by the Roaring Twenties excess. I felt the warmth in The Great Gatsby, but it was begging to bring on the heat.

And while any adaptation of The Great Gatsby has to thread the needle between wowing audiences with opulence and inviting critique of the ostentatious hollow center (those pyrotechnics are surely ironic, right?), the show’s final images seem to find that balance successfully. “I don’t want to live here, but I never want to leave,” the bombastically independent Jordan Baker (Samantha Pauly) sings as she enters one of Gatsby’s extravagant parties. That’s about right: If The Great Gatsby doesn’t have the makings of a long-term Broadway resident, it’s become, in its newly minted tension and decadence, a welcome visitor.

For any fan of “The Great Gatsby,” though, it’s likely you’ll have moments of wanting more, of missing out on all the subtext, grit, and suffering beneath the sequins. Right as you have that pang, you’ll probably get distracted by another sweeping set change or production number, and as the opening and closing song playfully depict, the party will just keep rolling on and on and on, so you might as well join in and enjoy the ride.

The Great Gatsby looks great. If you want production values, this adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel, directed by Marc Bruni, delivers more than any other new musical of the overstuffed Broadway season. It’s the Roaring Twenties, after all—now as well as then—so why not be loud? Let other shows make do with skeletal, functional multipurpose scenic design; these sets and projections, by Paul Tate de Poo III, offer grandly scaled Art Deco instead. Linda Cho’s costumes are Vegas shiny for the party people and elegant for the monied types. The production wears excess on its sleeveless flapper dresses.

This revisionary attempt to turn “The Great Gatsby” into a clown car of passionate entanglements skids off the road when calamity is meant to strike. The second-act twists play out with the frenzy of a nighttime soap by Aaron Spelling, without any of the campy self-awareness. There is no ghastly reckoning with the follies of hedonism, just a rapid succession of abrupt ends.

Those attending Great Gatsby expecting nothing more than a glitzy, glamorous romp through the Roaring Twenties will find themselves satisfied, but others hoping to find a deeper take on the novel's exploration of the American dream, old money versus new money, and love will find themselves feeling adrift. The Great Gatsby is a great big Broadway extravaganza that may dazzle viewers at first but, much like the green light, perfection remains close, yet just out of reach. C+

That message comes through clearly here, despite the production team’s penchant for bells and whistles. If all you’re seeking is a spectacle, you will get one. For some real resonance and depth, though, you may just have to wait a while—or reread the book.

Don’t misunderstand me: The Great Gatsby is not a smart, tasteful musical that can’t compete with tackier ones. It simply fails to be tacky enough. The jazz-based score by composer Jason Howland and lyricist Nathan Tysen (Paradise Square) ventures into funk, Disney princess ballad, and a touch of Britpop. Despite the eclecticism of the musical palette, none of the songs stick in the ear, despite strenuous vocalizing by Jeremy Jordan (Newsies) and Eva Noblezada (Hadestown).

The darker elements of “The Great Gatsby” prove more elusive, which blunts the impact overall. So does the show’s anodyne Broadway sound, which is poppy and pleasant without being memorable. It summons neither the Jazz Age, like the soundtrack to Jack Clayton’s 1974 movie adaptation did, nor a spirit of wild abandon, like the soundtrack to Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 take. The score to this “Great Gatsby” is missing a vital urgency.

That said, this new musical, as penned by Kait Kerrigan with music composed by Jason Howland and lyrics by Nathan Dylan, makes you feel very little, except when Howland’s lush melodies are reaching their climax. Even then, the feelings that flow are more admiration for Howland’s craft than the kind of emotion that flows back into an embrace of story.

Under Marc Bruni’s jazz-hands-happy direction, this Gatsby feels like it belongs on a cruise or in a theme park. It would make a good fit if Epcot’s pavilions expanded to include time periods as well as countries. Poor James Gatz, victim of his own disguise. A century on, retellers of his story, like his hordes of party guests, remain distracted by the spectacle. Here, Bruni and his designers lean into the roaring garishness almost to the point of cartoon.

The musical, a patchwork quilt of discordant styles that belongs in a box, becomes the latest in a long line of adaptions of this beloved novel to mess up a story that’s far more satisfying to read and imagine. It completely misses its intoxicating atmosphere, meaning and layered characters. One of the rare smart decisions of the night is the casting of Noah J. Ricketts as our man Nick Carraway, a modest Midwesterner who moves to a Long Island cottage in “new money” West Egg.

It’s debatable whether one of American literature’s most mysterious characters should ever sing. What Gatsby should definitely not ever do is lead a chorus of tap dancers. That not-since-“Carrie” spectacle sums up what goes wrong with the new musical “The Great Gatsby,” with book by Kati Kerrigan and score by composer Jason Howland and lyricist Nathan Tysen.

These errors in judgment are also indicative of who “Gatsby” will work for – and who they won’t. Simply put, if you treasure the novel, don’t come to the theatre. If you’ve never read it (or don’t remember it), you’ll probably be fine. Ultimately, the essence of the story– especially its messages on class differences and moral failings -- are mostly absent from Kait Kerrigan’s book, which mistakes Fitzgerald’s story for a standard romance novel. And when she keeps in a few lines of Fitzgerald’s actual prose (spoken by Nick), you become even more aware of Kerrigan’s modern sensibility.

The production splashes in excess, but of the Las Vegas residency kind. Golden-lacquered set pieces and a dizzying projection screen recreate the Gatsby mansion (and a bevy of other locations). The “nouveau riche” mansion isn’t as opulent or lush as one might imagine, feeling closer in spirit to a mega-church.

This musical take on The Great Gatsby presents Jay Gatsby and Daisy Fay Buchanan as a sympathetic couple caught in unfortunate Jazz Age circumstances. In other words, the transfiguration of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby is, sorry to report, a travesty.