Original Broadway Cast, 1966 (Columbia/Sony) (5 / 5) Seldom has a cast recording captured the thrill and excitement of a smash Broadway musical as well as this one does. From the spectacular opening bars of the overture to the huge finale, you can hear and feel the joy of the entire company. The album is so well produced that listening to it is almost like having the entire show performed in your living room. And what a cast! Angela Lansbury, in perhaps the greatest role of her long career, is an unsurpassed Mame. Her voice is rich and melodic, and her wit comes through clearly; it’s a treat to hear such a wonderful blend of acting and singing talent. Beatrice Arthur delivers a droll Vera Charles that will have you laughing out loud; “Bosom Buddies,” her duet with Lansbury, is hilarious. Frankie Michaels as Young Patrick has an amazing singing voice, while Jane Connell’s rendition of “Gooch’s Song” is-one of the great comedic performances in musical theater history. Jerry Herman’s music is among his very best, and his lyrics are sharp, funny, and impeccably crafted. The orchestra is thrillingly conducted by Donald Pippin. Mame actually improves upon the wonderful novel on which it was based, Patrick Dennis’ Auntie Mame, and its subsequent straight play and film adaptations. As wonderful as those versions may be, you can’t help missing great songs like “It’s Today,” “We Need a Little Christmas,” “If He Walked Into My Life” — and, of course, the show-stopping title tune of the musical. All of these are rendered definitively here, and there are interesting bonus tracks of Jerry Herman singing demo versions of several numbers. — Gerard Alessandrini

Film Soundtrack, 1974 (Warner Bros./Rhino) No stars; not recommended. All elements of the Broadway smash hit pointed toward Mame being turned into a wonderful movie musical, but it misfired on the big screen. The soundtrack album reveals how Lucille Ball’s lack of voice and musicality sabotaged the film more than any of its other flaws. As much as we all love Lucy, her singing here is unlistenable; she sounds ill at ease performing numbers written for someone with the vocal chops of a Judy Garland. Some of the choral work on this recording is very nice, but the orchestral arrangements are wanting. And although Bea Arthur and Jane Connell reprise the original roles for which they earned acclaim on Broadway, even they sound uncomfortable here. Only Robert Preston as Beau Burnside has a stellar moment when he sings “Loving You,” an excellent song that Jerry Herman composed expressly for the movie. — G.A.

Original Broadway Cast, 1973 (Bell/January Records) (3 / 5) This musical got the worst reviews imaginable but ran five years, thanks to its star, who could not act, sing, or dance but was a magician unlike any we’d ever seen. A skinny little hippie in jeans with a fresh, artless, chipmunk-cheeked persona, Doug Henning created illusions so startling and imaginative that the show’s hideous physical production and the basic crumminess of its book didn’t matter. On the cast album, Stephen Schwartz’s songs jump lightly from one pop genre to another in a casual, genial style of writing. This is a brief score and a minor one, but it’s not without its pleasures. The only interestingly conceived character is a beautiful young woman named Charmin, who in the show materialized before our eyes in a plexiglass box. Whenever any magician needs to conjure up a beautiful woman, it’s her — and she’s sick of it. “Charmin’s Lament,” a mock country-western number, is performed by the funny, genuinely sexy Anita Morris. Although “Lion Tamer” may be a bit too on-the-nose as ingenue Dale Soules’ first song, it’s still appealing. David Ogden Stiers’ villainous set piece “Style” is helped by the cheerful oddness of its music, as is “Two’s Company.” The most well remembered number of the score is probably “West End Avenue. ” Belted intensely by Soules, the song is skillful and effective if a tad overwrought. Henning doesn’t sing at all; his entire performance on the cast album consists of one line, spoken unsurely.  — David Wolf

Original Broadway Cast, 1968 (RCA/DRG) (3 / 5) Hardly remembered today, this show has had only one small-scale revival. It marked the return of Shirley Jones to Broadway, where she began her career in choruses before going on to star in the film versions of great musicals. Playing opposite her was her husband, Broadway veteran Jack Cassidy. Maggie Flynn was directed by Morton DaCosta, who had helmed such hits as Auntie Mame and The Music Man. The book, music, and lyrics were a collaboration of Hugo Peretti, Luigi Creatore, and George David Weiss. With encouraging out-of-town reviews, the musical seemed to have everything going for it, but it opened in New York to decidedly mixed notices. “The Thank-You Song” may seem to be a poor man’s “Do-Re-Mi,” but there’s more to Maggie Flynn than that number. Cleverly using the New York City draft riots of 1863 as background for a romance as well as a story of racial tolerance, the show has a tuneful score that made for a really fine cast album. “Why Can’t I Walk Away?” is powerfully sung by Cassidy as Maggie’s ex-husband Phineas. Whether delivering the lullaby “Pitter Patter” or the rousing “Mr. Clown,” Cassidy uses his voice to great advantage. As Maggie, who runs an orphanage for black children, Jones sings beautifully in the clear-as-abell soprano that helped make her a star, and she’s just as engaging when belting out the cheery “Nice Cold Morning” and the sly “I Wouldn’t Have You Any Other Way.” Among the orphans are future stars Stephanie Mills, Irene Cara, and Giancarlo Esposito; the group as a whole sounds glorious, especially in the chilling “The Game of War.” Robert R. Kaye is in fine voice as Colonel Farrady (Maggie’s beau). The title tune is introduced as a ballad for Cassidy and later turns into an up-tempo production number. The recording concludes with Jones singing “Mr. Clown” while Cassidy sings “Maggie Flynn,” the two songs fitting together perfectly. — Jeffrey Dunn

New York Concert Cast, 1988 (CBS) (4 / 5) This is a musically adventurous, complex, and unruly Colombian stew by Heitor Villa-Lobos. The show was a flop on Broadway in 1948, but an admired one that was brought back decades later in a Lincoln Center concert version. The melodies, harmonies, and intricate rhythms of Magdalena sound like no other Broadway score, and the composer’s use of contrapuntal rhythms and strains — a player piano in the middle of a priest’s reverie, a pagan uprising during a state ceremony — is as sophisticated as in any opera. His orchestrations are dazzling, too, combining South American folk motifs with the sounds of late’40s Broadway. Unfortunately, the story that librettist Homer Curran and lyricists Robert Wright and George Forrest concocted is incomprehensible and annoyingly pious; the dull, religious heroine triumphs, but the fun-loving heathens have the best material. Some of the ballads and recitatives are faux-naif and bogus, but if you can endure those failings, you’ll be rewarded with a lavish, well-sung musical presentation based on the Lincoln Center concert. The witty “Food for Thought” lyrics, trilled to perfection by villainess Judy Kaye, and her later “Piece de Resistance”stand out. There’s also fine work from George Rose in one of his last roles, hamming it up lustily as a corrupt general. The romantic leads, Faith Esham and Kevin Gray, seem a little pallid by comparison, but they’re unfairly weighted down by all that shallow dialogue. Evans Haile conducts an enormous orchestra and chorus masterfully, and the flow of imaginative Villa-Lobos music is unending. A special nod to percussionist Patrick Smith, who is probably recuperating still. — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1966 (Columbia/DRG) (4 / 5) Marshall Barer was an unsung genius lyricist of the musical theater; his output was slight in terms of quantity, but he could write a ballad or comic song with a felicity equal to anyone in the field. The Mad Show, a reunion with his Once Upon a Mattress collaborator Mary Rodgers, yielded one of the funniest recordings in cast album history. Of course, it helps if you’re tuned in to the anarchic (and New York Jewish) humor of Mad magazine. The excellence of the revue, the unity of its components, and its terrific cast all shine through on the recording. Here are Linda Lavin, JoAnne Worley, MacIntyre Dixon, Richard Libertini, and Paul Sand in the show that propelled their long, distinguished careers. A highlight of the album is a non-Barer song, “The Boy From,” which all good musical comedy queens (err, fans) know was credited to Rodgers and “Esteban Ria Nido” — a pseudonym for Stephen Sondheim. The Mad Show ran for almost nine hundred performances. Unfortunately, when the show was released for production by regional groups, it was in a bowdlerized version. To add insult to injury, the recording wasn’t issued on CD until 2005, when DRG happily remedied that situation.  — Ken Bloom

Original Broadway Cast, 1974 (ABC/MCA) (4 / 5) This beloved flop starred Robert Preston as silent-movie pioneer Mack Sennett and Bernadette Peters as his leading lady/lover, Mabel Normand. In spite of numerous revisions and revivals, the show never works. Michael Stewart’s downbeat book tells the story of a failed romance ending with Normand’s early death, while Jerry Herman’s witty, hooray-for-Hollywood songs belong to another musical altogether. The promised cocktail of tough humor and glossy tears is, in fact, a melange of unpalatable opposites. Nevertheless, it’s a hell of a score that provides a deluxe showcase for two of Broadway’s greatest stars. Preston’s gritty singing is ideally suited to the clever lyrics of “Movies Were Movies,” “Hundreds of Girls,” and “My Heart Leaps Up,” all of which layout Sennett’s philosophy of filmmaking. Peters’ Betty Boop-style belt is perfect in the galvanizing “Look What Happened to Mabel,” the furious “Wherever He Ain’t,” and the wounded torch song “Time Heals Everything.” Both stars score in different versions of the ballad “I Won’t Send Roses.” Other pluses include Lisa Kirk belting her way through the vivacious “Big Time” and “Tap Your Troubles Away,” as well as the inevitable Herman salute to the female star, “When Mabel Comes in the Room.” All of the melodies sparkle in Philip J. Lang’s orchestrations. This is a classic case of a show album that outclasses the show itself. — David Barbour

London Concert Cast, 1988 (First Night) (2 / 5) This live recording of a concert of songs from Mack & Mabel has George Hearn and Denis Quilley lending their big voices to Mack’s songs, Debbie Shapiro Gravitte walloping the daylights out of “Big Time” and “Wherever He Ain’t,” Georgia Brown’s eccentric but touching version of “Time Heals Everything,” and Tommy Tune’s ebullient “Tap Your Troubles Away.” Debits include the replacement of “My Heart Leaps Up,” Mack’s tribute to the Keystone Kops, with the inferior “Hit ‘Em on the Head.” Jerry Herman narrates. — D.B.

Original London Cast, 1995 (Angel) (3 / 5) Although the leads are not ideal, this recording contains plenty of material not found on the Broadway album, including both act finales, an entr’acte, some reprises, and a title song that uses the melody of “Look What Happened to Mabel.” Howard McGillin is vocally overqualified as Mack; in “I Won’t Send Roses,” he laments the lack of romance in his soul in a voice that throbs with feeling. Caroline O’Connor as Mabel sounds eerily like Bernadette Peters (or an impersonator of her). Still, McGillin makes a very good case for “Hit ‘Em on the Head,” and O’Connor is appealing throughout. Kathryn Evans provides lusty renditions of “Big Time” and “Tap Your Troubles Away.” And, if anything, Larry Blank’s revisions of Philip ]. Lang’s orchestrations improve upon the originals.  — D.B.