It’s back! After becoming an unexpected ray of sunshine in the depths of lockdowns, starry musical tribute series Schmigadoon, rechristened and bringing its cultural references forwards, has kickstarted its second season.
Having guzzled down the full season (though the embargo has only lifted on episode 1 so far), what is most striking is how assured and tonally different this new season, which relocates from leafy Schmigadoon to shady Schmicago (where next, Schmamilton?), ends up.
The main selling point is invariably the tunes, and Schmicago delivers in spades. Whereas the first season tackled the so-called Golden Age of Musicals, here the show leaves the rich pastels of Rodgers and Hammerstein behind and enters the grungier, avant-garde world of the ’60s and ‘70s – expect Cabaret, A Chorus Line, Chicago, Pippin and Hair. It’s all Fosse and no froth, and the levels of comedic quality are ratcheted up to the max: one later mash-up involving a musical about that most ginger of orphans and another about a bloodthirsty barber is a particular highlight.
Pastiche would be perfectly fine on its own, but what continues to make the Schmigadoon franchise shine is its decently meaty themes. Whereas the first season dealt with the disillusionment of prolonged and uneasy romance between its central protagonists Melissa (Cecily Strong) and Josh (Keegan-Michael Key), season two delves into a wider sense of ennui in life. The duo, now robustly a couple, are fed up with their inane and repetitive lives in the medical world and want to return to the easy serenity of the city of Schmigadoon. One catch – the city has disappeared, and the neon-lit Schmicago has taken its place – full with its own plots, intrigues, murders and eccentric characters.
Writer Cinco Paul has brought back his absurdly top-tier ensemble of musical theatre aristocracy, including Jane Krakowski, Kristin Chenoweth, Ariana DeBose, Alan Cumming, Aaron Tveit, Dove Cameron, Jaime Camil and Ann Harada, alongside some excellent newbies – such as Tituss Burgess as an enigmatic, omniscient narrator plus Patrick Page as an enthralling antagonist.
Paul has played around with character roles like a sound mixer dialling up and down different tracks. DeBose, who had one of the larger roles in season one, has a reduced presence here, but the gap is adeptly filled by Cameron, who gets some top-notch numbers, while Tveit gets to go all-age of Aquarius with his chipper hippy outlook on life. Cumming and Chenoweth are also a tantalising two-some in their own B-plot.
For musical theatre aficionados, it continues to be essential viewing. For the general public, the quick, bite-size episodes may mean it’s not an overwhelming dose of musical theatre. Either way it’s a hoot, and refreshing to see such love, attention and budget going into such a passion project.