I can't square the musical sophistication of In Transit with its narrative hackwork. Kathleen Marshall's staging, with its let's-get-past-it rather than the let's-explore-it approach, doesn't help: It's definitely an express. (Even so, the show is a bit too long at 100 minutes without intermission.) If all of Marshall's cleverness as a director and choreographer goes toward smoothing and polishing the surfaces, perhaps that's because in a cotton-candy musical like this one there's nothing underneath. The cast, for instance, is admirably diverse, yet from the show's portrait you would think that the New York subway in 2016 represented a utopian post-racial environment. Nor is anyone poor, except for one smelly homeless person who is the butt of an obvious joke, and the once-rich white guy who is learning his lesson. Donyale Werle's charming set, with its treadmill tracks and mosaic motifs, gives the MTA a Museum of Transportation gloss, but it made me wonder, as did the show in its entirety: Have you been down there recently? And have you been up here?