OnScreen Review: “Schmigadoon!”

Apple TV+'s latest offering, "Schmigadoon!", is delightful. That's the best word for it. It's just a joy to watch; a cheeky love letter to the musical films of yesteryear made with a lot of loving care. Between this and the superb "Central Park," Apple TV is proving to be a welcome home for musical TV series. I don't know how "Schmigadoon" will play to a general audience, but it will surely tickle readers of this website and those who grew up on Golden Age musicals.

"Schmigadoon!," created by Cinco Paul and Ken Daurio (the minds behind animated kids films like "Despicable Me," "The Secret Life of Pets" and "Horton Hears A Who"), follows Melissa and Josh a few years into their relationship. Melissa ("Saturday Night Live's" Cecily Strong) is a Type-A OBGYN, while Josh (Keegan-Michael Key) is a laid-back surgeon who meet cute in their hospital's break room and quickly fall in love.

Fast forward four years and the couple are stuck in a rut and decide to go on a couples retreat in the woods.  While hiking and arguing, Melissa and Josh find themselves at a mysterious mist-covered bridge. When they cross it, they find themselves in Schmigadoon, a magical town right out of a '50s movie musical where "the sun shines bright from July to June and the air's as sweet as macaroon” (according to the opening song the townsfolk sing to welcome their new guests).

At first, the couple thinks they've stumbled into some tourist attraction "like Colonial Williamsburg," but they soon realize Schmigadoon is no ordinary place. The two are trapped there until they can find true love.

Why? Who knows. What does a mysterious leprechaun played by Martin Short have to do with anything? No clue. Just go along for the ride.

The first half of the season is mostly spent meeting the inhabits of Schmigadoon, each of whom are character archetypes played perfectly by stage vets. There's carnie bad-boy Danny Bailey (Aaron Tveit), backwoods ingenue Betsy (Dove Cameron), and Aloysius Menlove (Alan Cumming), the town mayor whose jovial persona may be masking a deep secret.

Given that he's played by Alan Cumming and his name is Mayor Menlove, I'll let you guess what he's hiding. The closest thing "Schmigadoon" has to a villain is Mildred Layton (Kristin Chenoweth), an uptight Reverend's wife who disapproves of city folk bringing their newfangled, sinful ways to town.

“Schmigadoon" is perfectly cast and the actors all expertly channel the fizzy, old-timely, stylized manner. Cummings is a perfect fit, as is "Avenue Q" alum Ann Harada, as his loving wife.

In the second and third episodes, both have very funny innuendo-filled ditties. "Jane the Virgin's" Jaime Camil amuses as the town's traditional doctor while Ariana DeBose (continuing her meteoric rise from "Hamilton" ensemble member to bona fide star) nearly steals the show as schoolmarm Emma Tate, a spinster raising her lisping nephew.

Sound familiar?

The ensemble is exceedingly game, but it all wouldn't work so well if Strong and Key didn't ground the insanity so well. Both are very funny – their sketch comedy background is well-utilized and their chemistry is fantastic – but they balance all the cheerful hokiness with moments of genuine emotion that work like a squeeze of fresh lemon onto a particularly butter-drenched lobster roll.

Plainly, the show is a hoot, especially if you're familiar with the tropes the writers are playing with. Yes, "Brigadoon" is the show's most obvious jumping-off point, but it's riddled with easter eggs, both big and small.

The songs – by creator Cinco Paul – are primarily pastiches of Rodgers and Hammerstein, Rodgers and Hart, and Lerner and Loewe. An early song even makes fun of Hammerstein's overuse of bird and nature imagery. There are musical and visual references to "Oklahoma," "Babes in Toyland," "Wizard of Oz," "Mary Poppins," "Damn Yankees," and "King and I."

There's a direct "Trouble" parody and another song that ensures you will never hear "Do Re Me" the same way again. While the music may not be as consistently witty or varied as the tunes written for "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend" – the gold standard of TV musicals – they're smart and highly enjoyable. I greatly appreciated that episode six's finale, all about growing and changing, matured musically, shifting from soft-shoe Broadway to a "Pippin” era Stephen Schwartz toe-tapper.

The whole show looks fantastic too. All six episodes are directed by Barry Sonnenfeld and designed by Bo Welch, who reunited following the underappreciated "Series of Unfortunate Events."

Between "Events," "Edward Scissorhands" and "Beetlejuice," no one knows how to do stylized world-building like Welch. Here his work with Sonnenfeld is imaginative and whimsical. There are the phony backdrops you recognize from old movies, the fake trees, and the cheesy storefronts. I could rewatch the series just to find all the details hidden amidst the set – like a store sign reading "Hammerstein and Sons."

I started this review by calling "Schmigadoon" delightful. That is true and I happily lapped up all six episodes in two sittings. They go down very, very easy. The problem is that "Schmigadoon" is rarely anything more than delightful; a fun novelty that induces many smiles and a couple of good laughs.

It feels like a show stuck between two realities. There's a tight feature film version (think a reversed "Enchanted") that sticks to a more streamlined narrative. Then there's a 12+ episode TV series that gets to explore each character, give them a fully fleshed-out arc, and indulge in the murky weirdness lurking just out frame.

I'm not saying they should go full "Get Out," but there's a dark underbelly the show feels too scared to address. If there’s a season two, it might be wise for Sonnenfeld to review the more sinister aspects of "Pushing Daisies," a show with similar DNA. The same goes for the humor that wants to be both family-friendly and winkingly naughty at the same time.

Sometimes it succeeds with flying colors (there's a few suggestive numbers, including one in episode two called "Corn Puddin'," that are quite amusing), but it often feels like the censors nixed the edgier content the writers originally wanted. As is, we get a six-episode season that gives many characters a beginning and end, forgoing the much-needed middle and delivering jokes that are sometimes too mature for kids but too toothless for adults. The idea of one-dimensional stock characters maturing outside their archetypes is excellent, but I wish the process didn't feel so rushed and glib.

Perhaps this is by design. Golden Age musicals are not known for their subtly or character development, so I'll give the creators the benefit of the doubt. "Schmigadoon" clearly knows what it is and the characters often mention the shortcomings of the genre. Melissa comments on the "color-blind casting" of the townsfolks and later bemoans that "women were so underwritten in early musicals." It’s a valid attempt at meta criticism but felt funnier coming from Man in Chair.

Maybe I'm too hard on a well-made bauble like "Schmigadoon." Fans of the genre will likely swoon over its cheerful and well-executed sendups. For me, while I love musicals, I've never much caught on to the kind "Schmigadoon" is parodying. My favorite works feature more sobbing than tap-dancing. So, take my words with a grain of salt.

Late in "Schmigadoon," there's a piano vamp that seems to be a nod to "Sunday In the Park With George," one of my personal favorites. "Sunday's" complexities beg to be examined, studied, and thought about. "Schmigadoon" will disappear from memory as quickly as the fog that covers the title town's bridge. But when you're visiting, I can't say it isn't, well, delightful.

 “Schmigadoon!” premieres July 16 on Apple TV+. Two episodes will be available at launch followed by one episode weekly every Friday for a total of six.