‘Tis a valiant cause to revive a musical, especially when it’s a crowd favorite like Monty Python’s Spamalot. The spoof, based on the 1975 film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, is back on the Broadway boards after a critically acclaimed run earlier this year at the Kennedy Center.
Whether you’ll look on the bright side with approval or wish that this quest had more grit may depend upon your expectations of production values and your threshold for unabashed silliness.
Tony-winner James Monroe Iglehart leads a top-notch cast as the medieval King Arthur, whose aim is to recruit other men to his Round Table and guide them to the utopia of Camelot.
Camelot, as it turns out, is a glitzy casino — an ideal setting for a song and dance routine. And composers John Du Prez and original Python Eric Idle ensure that there will be no shortage of musical numbers in this production, which is bursting at the seams with them.
Sir Robin (Michael Urie), Sir Lancelot (Taran Killam), Sir Galahad (Nik Walker), and Sir Bedevere (Jimmy Smagula) are among Arthur’s loyal followers who meander the woods with him until they are called by God (Steve Martin, in voice only) to a greater purpose: locate the Holy Grail.
Fans of the movie or those who saw the initial Broadway stage production, which debuted in 2005 and ran four years, should expect nothing new here. While this ensemble is comprised of fine talent, they are all saddled with the same burden as nearly every actor cast in screen to stage treatments: to infuse originality into their characters.
Lines and material are so deeply embedded into people’s memories from the original film. If performers lean into their own interpretations, audiences feel betrayed. Yet if actors dutifully mimic the original source material, one must question the reason for theatergoers to drop top dollar for an overall re-hashed experience.
A pricey ticket won’t render a uniquely crafted set in 932 A.D. either. “This is a total bloody disaster! All my Knights have fled, and we’re lost in a dark and extremely expensive forest,” Arthur laments to Patsy (Christopher Fitzgerald) at the start of Act 2. It elicits minor laughs but it’s not particularly true, since this forest is one of the many projected images that have dominated the stage since the opening number. This is not to malign Paul Tate DePoo III’s projection designs, for they work just fine in the show.
But it points to the pattern of using projections as the main focus of scenic design rather than a supplementary vehicle. No doubt producers embrace this trend as it reduces overhead and reduces eventual touring costs. For audiences seeking an old-fashioned, splashy musical — as Spamalot intends to be — some may leave feeling slightly cheated and underwhelmed by the visually minimal scenery.
Whatever hollow sense is felt from that, however, might be redeemed by two of the show’s best performances. Fitzgerald, a multiple-award nominee for several Broadway turns including Waitress and Young Frankenstein, is a constant delight as Arthur’s sidekick, Patsy. His comic timing and facial expressions are always executed with impeccably precise flair — never pulling focus, but impossible not to watch him every time he steps onstage.
It’s a man’s world in the Middle Ages, but it’s a phenomenally talented woman who figuratively and literally casts a spell over this kingdom. Drifting onstage flanked by her “Laker girls,” Leslie Rodriguez Kritzer’s Lady of the Lake instantly converts us into believers. Kritzer is the vocal equivalent of a gold medal gymnast whose range seems impossibly mythical.
While Fitzgerald and Kritzer receive special mention, it would be unfair to collectively ignore the rest of the immensely talented cast, all of whom are equipping this journey with total gusto. Some of the bits steer into sophomoric territory and go on much longer than needed. Yet for the most part, director and choreographer Josh Rhodes guides with a steady, brisk hand and bestows his cast with some jaunty moves.
Costume designer Jen Caprio lends colorful and appropriately cartoonish attire to the proceedings while Cory Pattak’s lighting toggles between bright razzle-dazzle showbiz and warm earth tones that capture the mystic world in which these jokers find themselves.
For seasoned Broadway fans, this stripped-down production of Spamalot will incite longing for the days when theater makers actually gave audiences a show worthy of its ticket prices. But if you’re able to overlook these shortcomings and are willing to spend time and money in this zany forest, no one should thwart your well-intended effort.
Spamalot (★★★☆☆) is playing at the St. James Theatre, 246 W. 44th St. in New York. Tickets are $49 to $311. Visit www.spamalotthemusical.com.
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