Original Broadway Cast, 1990 (DRG) (3 / 5) This show was a good time, but the cast recording — only 37 minutes in length — is of little help in bringing back the experience for those who saw it, or giving a good idea of it for those who didn’t. The Madwoman of Central Park West is about Phyllis Newman trying to get her life together. It begins as she drags herself out of bed, singing “Up! Up! Up!”, written for an unfinished Skin of our Teeth adaptation by Leonard Bernstein, Betty Comden, and Adolph Green (Newman’s husband). Other numbers included are “What Makes Me Love Him?” (from the Jerry Bock-Sheldon Harnick- Jerome Coopersmith musical The Apple Tree), Ed Kleban’s irresistible song “Better,” and a very funny version of the Bruce Sussman-Jack Feldman-Barry Manilow hit “Copacabana.” But the one item that makes this album essential is “Don’t Laugh,” written by Mary Rodgers and Martin Charnin for Hot Spot (which starred Judy Holliday), then doctored on the road by Rodgers’ friend Stephen Sondheim, who added the wonderful “show me” sections: “Show me a glass of water, I’ll show you a soggy dress / Show me a tube of toothpaste, I’ll show you a mess / Show me a fresh-laid sidewalk and guess where my footprints are / Show me a fire hydrant, I’ll show you my car.” (Note: There was a TV adaptation of The Madwoman of Central Park West, so you may be able to seek that out and see it for yourself.) — David Wolf  

Original Broadway Cast, 1951 (RCA/Sepia) (4 / 5) A spiffy overture, a swell opening chorus (“The Tour Must Go On”), then out comes our heroine with an even better character-establishing number, “I Wanna Be Good ‘n’ Bad.” In Hugh Martin’s musical adaptation of Ferenc Molnar’s The Good Fairy, Fabray is a Parisian orphan who breaks away from the orphanage and runs smack into an aspiring barrister, played by Stephen Douglass. The two stars are strictly A-list. As the second couple, Helen Gallagher and Harold Lang play a bickering nightclub duo. The cast album is generous with song-setting dialogue, and Martin’s score is up-tempo and unpretentious, offering lots of chances for this gifted quartet to shine. The ballads are also choice, particularly Fabray’s “What I Was Warned About” and Douglass’s “When Does This Feeling Go Away?” Yet even with a Preston Sturges book and show-stopping Gower Champion dances (the music for one of the ballets is included here), this musical was not a hit — and you can hear why.  Halfway through the recording, there’s a silly march (“Paris, France”), and most of what follows sounds like filler. By the time Fabray, Lang, and Gallagher are slamming across “Take Me Back to Texas With You” (“My poor eyes will get all watery / When I see Monsieur Gene Aut-e-ry”), you’ll realize what a hodge-podge the score is, its ambience careening uneasily between Paris and Passaic. Martin’s vocal arrangements, so much fun when he’s serving other composers, just sound garish when he’s working his own stuff into the ground, as in “That Face.” Still, the four leads are tops, and the gold in this mixed bag outweighs the dross.  — Marc Miller

Music From Baz Luhrmann’s Film, 2001 (Interscope) (1 / 5) Here is the soundtrack recording (partly; see below) of what might be described as a movie musical that’s perfect for the ADD generation in terms of its plot (based on well-worn tropes from several famous works, most notably the operas La Bohème and La Traviata and their literary source material) as well as its “jukebox” score (an overstuffed basket of pop hits from the last half of the 20^th century). Also geared toward those who suffer from attention deficit disorder is the ridiculously frenetic editing of the film as directed by Baz Luhrmann. Presumably, at least some people who enjoyed the musical performances in Moulin Rouge! might wish to own the soundtrack album if only to experience the songs without having to endure the over-editing of the film itself. But caveat emptor, as the album titled Moulin Rouge! Music from Baz Luhrmann’s Film does not, for the most part, feature performances from the movie, instead offering covers of those covers. To cite only one major example, this collection starts with “Nature Boy” sung not by John Leguizamo (who plays Toulouse-Lautrec in the film and sings the song to open it) but instead by David Bowie. A highlight of the album is a performance that is, indeed, heard in the movie: Ewan McGregor’s lovely, romantic rendition of Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s beautiful “Your Song.” But fans of the film who want audio-only versions of the performances in it will need to additionally seek out the album Moulin Rouge! 2, which includes such items as Nicole Kidman’s “Sparkling Diamonds” (a silly mash-up of “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” and “Material Girl”); Jim Broadbent, Richard Roxburgh, et al. having their way with “Like a Virgin” (yes, another Madonna song); and the Can-Can pastiche “The Pitch (Spectacular Spectacular).” There are also excerpts from the film’s background score by Craig Armstrong, for anyone who might care a whit about that. – Michael Portantiere

Original Broadway Cast, 2019 (RCA) (1 / 5) People who loved Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge! on the screen won’t necessarily have similar affection for the Broadway musical based on the movie. There are many differences, including much of the score (songs first made famous by Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, the Eurtyhmics, etc. are now included as others have been jettisoned) and some of the story elements and dialogue. Those who enjoyed the seemingly fueled-by-crack editing of the movie will, of course, miss that element in the stage adaptation, while others who abhorred and deplored all that relentless, insanely quick cutting will appreciate being able to make their own decisions about what to focus on when seeing the show, and for how long. As for the cast recording, at least you’ll know exactly what to expect when/if you get your hands on it: a truckload of pop hits, or fragments of same, performed by Karen Olivo as Satine, Aaron Tveit as Christian, Danny Burstein as Harold Zidler, Robyn Hurder as Nini, Tam Mutu as The Duke of Monroth, Sahr Ngaujah as Toulouse-Lautrec, and the other original cast members who sang them on stage at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre before and, in some cases, after the show was forced to suspend performances due to the COVID-19 crisis of 2020. (Cast album listeners have the additional assurance that they will, indeed, hear Satine’s songs delivered by Olivo, who was frequently absent during the eight months or so that Moulin Rouge! ran prior to its closure at the onset of the pandemic.) Although Tveit tends to come across as bland on stage, his strong, clear, unaffected tenor voice is a pleasure to hear on this album, and Burstein is always a vivid presence. The musical supervisor here is Justin Levine, with Cian McCarthy as conductor and Matt Stine as Music Producer — that last credit an unusual one for a Broadway show, or at least it used to be. – M.P.

Film Soundtrack, 1964 (Buena Vista/Walt Disney Records) (5 / 5) Disney’s Mary Poppins has been beloved from the moment audiences first saw the film in 1964, permeating our culture and becoming a hallmark for family friendly entertainment. Even if you’re a neophyte to the story of the mysterious and magical nanny who teaches a British family the importance of love, fun, and compassion, you’ll understand why the film has attained classic status with just one listen to this soundtrack. The score, by brothers Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman, remains timeless, with many of the songs long ago having achieved the status of internationally recognized standards: “A Spoonful of Sugar,” “ Jolly Holiday,” “Supercalifragilisticxpialidocious,” et al. Indeed, it’s difficult to think of another original movie musical that has produced as many great songs — and even the lesser-known ones, such as “Sister Suffragette” and “The Perfect Nanny,” are clever and charming enough to avoid being the sort of “skippable” tracks that even some of the best Broadway cast albums contain. As the action of the film is set in London in the early 1900s, Irwin Kostal’s arrangements pay fitting homage to Edwardian music halls, and his incidental music (included on deluxe editions of the soundtrack) craftily rearranges the Sherman Brothers’ compositions to feel like new pieces. As for the cast, they remain unbeatable. Julie Andrews made one of the most smashing screen debuts in history as Mary Poppins, a role that showcases her immense range, from comedic vaudevillian (“Supercalifragilisticxpialidocious”) to intimate chanteuse (“Feed the Birds”). By her side is Dick Van Dyke, effervescent as Bert, a jack-of-all-trades and loyal friend to Mary and her charges, Jane and Michael Banks. Though Van Dyke’s Cockney accent is legendarily awful, it really doesn’t matter at this point, as its humorous inauthenticity has taken on its own charming, nostalgic quality. In short, this soundtrack is a perfect companion to the landmark film. — Matt Koplik

Original London Cast, 2005 (Walt Disney Records) (4 / 5) Although Disney’s Mary Poppins is a beloved classic, author P.L. Travers, who wrote the book series on which the film was based, famously hated it.  For this reason, Travers initially refused any further adaptations of her stories about the magical nanny while she was alive — that is, until producer Cameron Mackintosh persuaded her to grant him the rights to create a stage musical. Travers acquiesced on the condition that the entire creative team for the project would be British and would exclude everyone involved in the Disney movie. Mackintosh kept his word, to a certain extent:  Although he collaborated with Disney Theatrical Productions so that the show could contain the most famous songs from the film, Mackintosh did bring on an entirely British team, including West End regulars George Stiles and Anthony Drewe to create new songs, expanding the score and giving the work a drier tone. While the final result isn’t as ebullient as the film, it’s still charming. The work of Stiles and Drewe is enjoyable in its own right — and, partly thanks to William David Brohn’s intelligent orchestrations, the score feels like a unified work, even if it does have two sets of writers. As heard on the cast album, the supporting players are a bit of a mixed bag: A bold and unleashed Rosemary Ashe stands out as the show’s villain, Miss Andrew (a character added for the musical), in “Brimstone and Treacle,” while Linzi Hatley’s Mrs. Banks is miscast, her modern-style vocalization at odds with the character’s new song, “Being Mrs. Banks” (a replacement for the film’s more entertaining “Sister Suffragette”). Gavin Lee is a wonderful Bert, and Charlotte Spencer and Harry Stott give intelligent performances as Jane and Michael, rewritten here as far brattier versions than the characters in the movie. But the biggest perk of the album is Oliver Award winner Laura Michelle Kelly’s performance as Mary Poppins. Charming, elegant, and ethereal, Kelly swims through the score with her captivating voice, elevating new songs such as “Practically Perfect” while bringing new life to “A Spoonful of Sugar” and other classics. If this recording isn’t the monumental achievement of the soundtrack, with Kelly leading the charge, it stands on its own. — M.K.

Australian Cast, 2011 (Walt Disney Records) (2 / 5) This live recording of a performance of the Australian production of Mary Poppins preserves all the revisions to the show that were made after the London cast recording was released. (No cast album of the Broadway production was issued.) While there are some tweaks in arrangements and lyrics, the most notable change is the replacement of “Temper, Temper,” a nightmarish fever dream in which Jane and Michael are reprimanded by the toys they abuse in their nursery, with the less sinister “Playing the Game.” Neither song is particularly noteworthy, but “Temper, Temper” has a bit more bite to it and would probably have been given Travers’ seal of approval over “Playing the Game.” Other than that, this album isn’t much different from the London recording in terms of material. William David Brohn’s orchestrations perhaps sound a little richer here, and the cast brings a good deal of energy to their performances. The album is billed as “live,” but the performance and the engineering are clean enough that it sounds as if it were recorded in a studio, aside from some applause at the end of certain numbers. Some casting perks here are Matt Lee as an entertaining Bert and Marina Prior as an improvement over Linzi Hatley in the role of Mrs. Banks. The rest of the cast members are either equal or inferior to their London counterparts, with Judi Connelli lacking the necessary vocal heft for “Brimstone and Treacle.” Sadly, although Verity Hunt-Ballard as Mary Poppins has a pleasant voice, she can’t match Laura Michelle Kelly’s luxurious soprano, and her characterization is no better than presentable and professional. This album may please first-time listeners, but there is a greater deal of fun to be had from the previous two recordings. — M.K.

Original Broadway Cast, 2018 (Atlantic)  (3 / 5) Mean Girls has been a major staple in pop culture ever since the film was released in 2004. With instantly quotable dialogue and numerous iconic moments, the movie is so beloved that it was only a matter of time before the property made its way to the stage as a splashy musical. The plot is similar to Heathers, if a little more family friendly in its delivery: Having spent most of her young life in Africa with her zoologist parents, Cady Heron is thrust into a suburban U.S. high school, where she’s quickly lured in by the appeal of the school’s popular clique, The Plastics , and its glamorous and calculating leader, Regina George (Taylor Louderman). With legendary comedy writer Tina Fey adapting her original screenplay, her husband Jeff Richmond composing the music, and Tony nominee Nell Benjamin providing the lyrics, expectations for the musical were high, but the final product proves to be a mixed bag. Rather than stick to one genre of music, Richmond chose to incorporate golden-age Broadway, rock, bubble gum pop, salsa, and more to reflect the different social cliques of high school. This  isn’t a bad idea, and the mixing of different musical styles has certainly been done successfully in many previous shows. But even though John Clancy’s versatile orchestrations accommodate the various genres, they often clash with each other, and many of the songs lack the sort of structure that would allow them to build to a satisfying conclusion. Meanwhile, Benjamin’s lyrics are clever and well crafted but rarely have the bite of Fey’s dialogue (though little of that is presented on the recording). Still, for the most part, the album is an enjoyable listening experience thanks to Richmond’s talents for creating catchy ear worms, as well as the performances of exceptionally talented cast, who do a commendable job of making their mark on characters so strongly associated with the film portrayals. Most successful are Louderman as queen bee Regina and Grey Hansen as the comfortably flamboyant Damien; she revels in Regina’s viciousness, often singing in a low whisper before crescendoing to a commanding high belt, as in the vengeful “World Burn,” while he gives the album Broadway sparkle with his natural comedic timing and brassy vocals. However, it’s Kate Rockwell as Karen, the ditzy member of the Plastics, who has the best song in the score, “Sexy” — a paean to achieving female empowerment by dressing up in skimpy Halloween costumes. Here, Richmond brings musical theater know-how to the bubble gum music, and Benjamin’s lyrics are genuinely funny (“This is modern feminism talkin’ / I expect to run the world in shoes I cannot walk in”). In this song, Mean Girls the musical briefly reaches the same satirical heights as its source material. — Matt Koplik

Original Off-Broadway Cast (PS Classics, 2011) (3 / 5) Bernard Shaw’s plays do not easily adapt into musicals; My Fair Lady took Lerner and Loewe two tries, and only worked when they opened up the action beyond Shaw’s scenes. The opposite approach is taken in A Minister’s Wife, based on Shaw’s Candida (1897). Composer Joshua Schmidt, lyricist Jan Levy Tranen, and librettist Austin Pendleton, following a concept of director Michael Halberstam, concentrated rather than expanded the narrative. They jettisoned a key character (Candida’s crude father) and focused on the domestic triangle of fiery minister James Morell (Marc Kudisch); his lovely wife, Candida (Kate Fry); and Eugene Marchbanks (Bobby Steggert), a young poet whom Morell has rescued from the streets. Liz Baltes as Morell’s secretary, Prossy, and Drew Gehling as his earnest curate, Lexy, complete the outstanding cast. Kudisch’s opening number, “Sermon,” conveys the basic tenets of Christian Socialism, but an unsettling dissonance in the music hints that while Morell claims “we must learn to live for each other,” perhaps he needs to listen to his own words. Steggert is terrific as Marchbanks: his poet is frail, self-pitying, whiny, and yet confident in his passion, especially in “Shallops and Scrubbing Brushes” and the “Second Preaching Match.” Fry gets the benefit of the most melodious parts of Schmidt’s score, yet she wallops both men in the blunt “Spoiled From the Cradle.” Kudisch’s minister progresses from poised to angry to fearful as his inner flaws are revealed. The whole piece is wrapped up in the gorgeous “Into the Night,” as the cast ponders the future. Tranen’s lyrics are Shavian to the core, with many lifted directly from the play; Schimidt’s orchestrations for a chamber orchestra do a good job of advancing the subtext, with Laura Bontrager’s cello and Pasquale Laurino’s violin especially exquisite.  Like Schmidt’s Adding Machine, this is an unusual, challenging show. One could wish for more distinct songs, rather than so many extended scenes set to music. But A Minister’s Wife is  a small gem in itself. — Laura Frankos

Film Soundtrack, 1989 (Disney) (4 / 5) After a decades-long dry spell, Disney film animation finally sprang to life again with The Little Mermaid, a musical adaptation of the children’s story by Hans Christian Andersen. Thanks in large part to its fantastic score by Little Shop of Horrors team Howard Ashman and Alan Menken, Mermaid single-handedly revived the animated musical. And in its main character, Ariel — a mermaid daughter of King Triton, desperate to join the human world — the film also birthed the first really spunky and smart Disney princess. As Disney has progressed to even more feminist stories and even stronger princesses, certain elements of The Little Mermaids’s plot have come under scrutiny, but the score has stood the test of time. Ashman and Menken created a charmingly magical work; Menken’s music ranges from funky calypso (“Under the Sea”) to sassy Broadway (“Poor Unfortunate Souls”), with Ashman bringing his usual touch of unpretentious intelligence to the lyrics. And the vocal cast of the film is still definitive. Best known to musical theater fans for her powerhouse vocals in Crazy For You and Smile, Jodi Benson here produces a purer, smoother, more intimate sound that allows “Part of Your World,” Ariel’s finely crafted “I Want” song, to deeply resonate with the listener. Pat Carroll, Samuel E. Wright, and René Auberjonois are wonderful in other roles, and the score is smartly but not overly lushly orchestrated by Thomas Pasatieri.  — Matt Koplik

Original Broadway Cast, 2008 (Disney) (1 / 5) Howard Ashman sadly died at the height of his career, and he never saw any of his work with Alan Menken make it to Broadway. The legacy he left behind may be relatively small, but it is substantial in quality and much beloved. When Disney brought Beauty and the Beast to the stage with financially successful results, it was only a matter of time before The Little Mermaid, the movie that started it all, would make the transition as well. Unfortunately, in this case, Disney should have left well enough alone. With Ashman gone, Glenn Slater was brought in to contribute lyrics for new songs to expand the score for a full-length stage musical, and while he managed to come up with a few good fish puns, none of his work here matches the heart and inventiveness of Ashman’s work. Menken wrote some lovely melodies for the additional songs, though some of them are recycled from incidental music heard in the movie. The cast — Sierra Boggess, Sean Palmer, Sherie Rene Scott, Tituss Burgess, Norm Lewis, et al. — is talented and, in a few cases, vocally superior to their film counterparts, but most tend to go for vocal tricks, making the majority of the score sound over-sung. While Danny Troob’s orchestrations add the necessary flashes of Broadway brass to the Menken-Ashman material without going overboard, they don’t bring as much flair to the Broadway additions. Even though this recording has more songs and offers vocal flair from some Broadway favorites, you’re better off sticking to the movie soundtrack. — M.K.

Film Soundtrack, 2023  (Walt Disney Records) (1 / 5) Another year, another Disney remake. To be fair, the soundtrack for this “live action” adaptation of the 1989 animated classic is less bad than some of the other cinematic cash grabs that The Mouse House has made — but that still doesn’t make it “good.” From the very first track, almost all sense of fun, magic, and whimsy has been sucked out of Alan Menken’s iconic score, here polluted with overblown orchestrations and self-conscious performances. Songs such as the Oscar-winning “Under the Sea” don’t inspire nearly the same level of joy as the versions heard on the original film soundtrack recording. and while Menken is once again on hand to provide new songs for the film, with lyrics by Lin Manuel Miranda, they can’t compare to those he wrote with Howard Ashman. (The less said about “The Scuttlebutt,” the better.) On the bright side, we have the most vocally well-equipped cast of any of the Disney remakes so far. Though “Wild Uncharted Waters” isn’t much of a song, Jonah Hauer-King holds his own as Prince Eric, and if Daveed Diggs is not as bubbly and charismatic a Sebastian as Samuel E. Wright was, he at least keeps his numbers afloat. The two best performances belong to Melissa McCarthy, properly camping it up as Ursula, and Halle Bailey, who as Ariel is given numerous opportunities to showcase her wide range and crystal-clear voice. Like Sierra Boggess in the Broadway recording, Bailey sometimes over-sings her material (particularly the first half of “Part of Your World”), but her work here in general is very strong. She and McCarthy keep this otherwise unnecessary recording from being totally skippable. — M.K.

Original Broadway Cast,  2005 (Nonesuch) (5 / 5) The Light in the Piazza seemed to re-open the door for lush scores and musicals of honest sentiment of the type not seen since Rodgers and Hammerstein, at a time when modern musical theater writers were for the most part shying away from works of pure romance. Based on Elizabeth Spencer’s novel of the same title, the musical tells of Margaret Johnson, a Southern socialite, who takes her adult daughter, Clara, on vacation to Florence, Italy in the 1950s — only to have a local young man and Clara fall in love, despite Clara’s stunted mental maturity due to an accident in her childhood. For his Broadway debut, Adam Guettel wrote an overwhelmingly romantic score, rich in musical complexity and tender in its poetically precise lyrics, a fair percentage of which are in Italian in order to properly dramatize the native characters. Guettel uses the language and cultural barriers between the Johnsons and the Italians to his advantage by employing a musical language that is distinctly modern in structure, yet traditionally sweeping in sound. (Guettel and Ted Sperling are responsible for the fluid orchestrations.) Piazza is moving in its beauty, whether in its more intimate moments (“Dividing Day,” “The Beauty Is”) or its grander songs (“Il Mondo Era Vuoto,” “Say It Somehow”). The cast is exceptional, with Kelli O’Hara and Matthew Morrison providing touching, lovely performances as the two young lovers. But it’s Victoria Clark as Margaret who defines the album. Her delivery of the final song, “Fable,” in which Margaret prepares to finally let Clara go, would be reason enough to own this recording. The Light in the Piazza is a masterwork given a definitive presentation on the cast album — Matt Koplik

Original Broadway Cast, 2009 (Rhino) (3 / 5) Winner of 2010 Tony Awards for Best Musical, Book, Original Score, and Orchestrations, Memphis charts an enjoyable journey through the pioneering days of rock ‘n’ roll, when rhythm and blues morphed into a new musical genre mixing black and white influences and exciting young, integrated audiences. Set in the 1950s, when racial segregation was still the norm in much of America, the energetic musical’s plot centers around a Memphis-based, white DJ, Huey Calhoun (Chad Kimball), who is enamored of and daringly promotes African-American music. He soon falls in love with a black female singer (Montego Glover) and jump-starts her rise to stardom. Joe DiPietro’s serviceable book frames an invigorating score, with music by Bon Jovi’s David Bryan and lyrics by Bryan and DiPietro. The songs recall iconic rock performers, sounds (guitar riffs, doo-wop harmonizing, soulful blues), and hits of the period; at least three numbers sound remarkably like “Jailhouse Rock.” Yet these references are packaged within a score that’s structured Broadway-style, featuring dramatic solos enhanced by solid ensemble singing, colorful orchestrations, wordy (sometimes overly so) lyrics, and infectious dance breaks. The cast album highlights come at the beginning and the end. The opening jump blues number, “Underground,” is  followed by the searing ballad “The Music of My Soul,” and these songs let us know we’re in for a rebellious ride through rough racial terrain, while the catchy “Everybody Wants to Be Black on a Saturday Night” gets us gleefully on board. Heightening the show’s bittersweet climax, when the lovers part, “Memphis Lives in Me” salutes Huey’s hometown and all it represents emotionally, culturally, and musically. The upbeat finale, “Steal Your Rock ‘n’ Roll,” exemplifies the score’s accessible if unimaginative blend of pop appeal, Broadway pizzazz, and early rock sensibilities. Throughout, Kimball sings Huey’s songs with scratchy grit and raw expressiveness; his superb acting contributed immeasurably to the musical’s success on Broadway. As Felicia, the singer who captures Huey’s heart, Glover offers dramatically nuanced versions of the showpieces “Colored Woman” and “Love Will Stand When All Else Fails.” — Lisa Jo Sagolla

Original London Cast, 2015 (First Night) (3 / 5) Five years after it opened on Broadway, Memphis played for a year on London’s West End. Though one can detect slight differences in the arrangements, orchestrations, and tempi of several songs, the only significant dissimilarities between the Broadway and London cast albums lie in the singing of the lead performers. As Huey, a character loosely inspired by the trailblazing, Memphis-based, white DJ Dewey Phillips (who championed black music), Killian Donnelly offers smoother, prettier, more technically polished singing than Chad Kimball in his renditions  of the heartfelt “The Music of My Soul” and “Memphis Lives in Me,” as well as the wild “Crazy Little Huey.” Beverley Knight sings Felicia’s songs with greater authority than Montego Glover, perhaps too much authority for the vulnerable character. Overall, the Broadway album proves more effective as theater music; there’s more variety among the vocal qualities of the cast members, so their characters come through with greater distinction. “She’s My Sister,” a heated duet between Huey and Felicia’s brother, generates less tension on the London album and is harder to follow because the performers’ voices don’t contrast as forcefully as do those of their Broadway counterparts. But whereas the Broadway album offers a superfluous bonus track of Memphis composer/co-lyricist David Bryan singing “The Music of My Soul” over his own too-loud piano accompaniment, the London recording’s bonus is an impressive performance by Bryan of “Memphis Lives in Me.” — L.J.S.

Original London Cast, 2013 (RSC) (5 / 5) This recording reflects the Royal Shakespeare Company’s world premiere production of the musical Matilda, based on Roald Dahl’s book about a precocious, five-year-old British girl. A rather dark, cerebral show that also happens to be wickedly funny, charming, and moving, Matilda is in some ways the antidote to Annie; whereas the redheaded orphan patiently waited for the sun to come out tomorrow, Matilda fights to change her life and the bad deck of cards she has been dealt, including a moronic family that doesn’t care about her and a fearsome headmistress who hates children in general. For his first musical theater work, Australian comedian Tim Minchin has written a stellar score, one with playfully odd melodies and deliciously smart lyrics that fit the wonderfully twisted world of Dahl perfectly. There’s much fun to be had in “Naughty,” “Telly,” and other songs; and when Matilda shows its heart, it thankfully doesn’t wear it on its sleeve like so many children-centered shows. Songs such as “Quiet” and “My House” are simple and understated (a rarity in modern musical theater), allowing the actors to live in them and explore their dramatic potential. Christopher Nightingale’s orchestrations are by turns playful (“Miracle”), funky (“Revolting Children”), and beautiful (“I’m Here”). The cast of this recording is wonderful, with three young performers covering different tracks of Matilda (because they rotated in the role on stage). Special praise goes to Bertie Carvel, who plays the headmistress, Miss Trunchbull. Avoiding camp, Carvel instead performs like a dry, British piranha, making the character’s evilness funny yet still menacing. Perhaps the greatest song on this album is “When I Grow Up, ” by far the most uplifting number in the score: “When I grow up / I will be brave enough to fight the creatures / That you have to fight beneath the bed / Each night to be a grown up.” It reveals that, for all its cleverness and mischief, Matilda is at its core an optimistic show. — Matt Koplik

Original Broadway Cast, 2013 (Yellow Sound Label/Broadway Records) (3 / 5) Here we have a rare situation: a London cast album is actually preferable to the recording of the Broadway incarnation. While all of the new performers are as talented as their predecessors, and much is the same in terms of material (there is more dialogue included on the OBC recording, and there are some minor lyric changes), something is slightly off here. In trying to “Broadway-ize” the piece, Matilda’s creators made the show a difficult listening experience. Perhaps the biggest problem is/are the new orchestrations by Christopher Nightingale; brassy and brash, they frequently overpower the singers (even on the recording), making it hard to understand Minchin’s brilliant lyrics. Perhaps to compete with the orchestra, the performances of this cast are broader and less human than those of the British company. Even Bertie Carvel, repeating his role of Miss Trunchball, seems less funny and more fidgety than before. On the bright side, Lauren Ward as Miss Honey, also returning from the London production, is just as touching and perhaps even stronger vocally than on the previous recording. She is the sole caring adult character, and the beating heart of the show. All of the Matildas here — four of them, as opposed to the British three — are smart actresses and talented singers. Thankfully, for their tracks, Nightingale chose to remain faithful to his original orchestrations.  — M.K.

Film Soundtrack, 2022 (Masterworks Broadway) (4 / 5) When Matilda was being developed as a film, the entire original creative team was brought on to head the adaptation, which turned out well. Extremely well. As evidenced by this soundtrack album, Roald Dahl’s Matilda The Musical — the official title given to the movie by its distributor, Netflix — is just as sweet, edgy and unapologetically weird as the stage version. Christopher Nightingale has expanded his original orchestrations, and this recording is mixed in such a way that those orchestrations are not overwhelming, as they sometimes are on the Broadway cast album. Also, a much larger chorus of child actors bolsters major ensemble numbers such as “When I Grow Up” and “Revolting Children.” Since this is a movie with no rigorous, eight-shows-a-week performance schedule, only one actress is called on for the title role: 11-year-old Alisha Weir, who displays a perfect balance of precociousness and innocence as Matilda. In a departure from the stage version’s British panto approach to the character Trunchbull, Emma Thompson has stepped into the evil headmistress’ shoes. More overtly menacing than Bertie Carvel, Thompson appears game for anything and throws herself into the role, giving “The Hammer” and “The Smell of Rebellion” the proper mix of danger and hilarity that they require. Lashana Lynch is a lovely Miss Honey, making the most of “My House” and “Still Holding My Hand,” an effective new finale that Tim Minchin wrote for the film as a duet between Miss Honey and Matilda. There are some minor gripes with this recording: Though the cutting of the songs “Loud” and “Telly” isn’t an offensive choice, Andrea Riseborough and Stephen Graham make such a strong impression as Matilda’s horrible parents in “Miracle” that one wishes they had more opportunities to shine. And while the soundtrack includes the music for each of Matilda’s chapters on the Acrobat and Escapologist story, for some reason it doesn’t include any of Weir’s narration — a mistake, as the tracks now play more like background music than theatrical storytelling. So in order to hear Weir’s charming performance of these stories, you’ll have to watch the movie, which isn’t a hardship by any means. — M.K.

Studio Cast, 2013 (Cherrytree/A&M) (4 / 5)  Rock icon Sting introduced most of the songs that would fuel his Broadway musical The Last Ship in this eponymous, 12-track concept album, released a year before the show premiered. (A deluxe version featured five additional songs, while a super-deluxe edition comprising 20 tracks was made available exclusively through Amazon.) The first recording of original music that Sting had released in a decade, The Last Ship proffers heartfelt, Celtic-flavored songs inspired by his youth in a shipyard town in northern England. The 16-time Grammy-winning singer-songwriter appealingly intermingles pop, rock, jazz, and world music — and, in this outing, draws particularly from Northumbrian folk forms and Latin dance rhythms. While each song is musically enchanting, Sting performs them all himself, lending a lulling sameness to the recording’s vocal palette; the deluxe editions fare better in this regard, as they involve additional singers and a wider array of accompanying instruments. Fans of Sting the rocker will thrill to the deluxe version’s addition of “Jock the Singing Welder,” a raw, rockabilly tune that didn’t make it into the Broadway musical. But it’s Sting the balladeer who shines brightest in the original 12 tracks. He persuasively captures the righteousness of an angry young man relating the tale of “Dead Man’s Boots,” and his renditions of the poignant “I Love Her But She Loves Someone Else” and “Practical Arrangement” (which also didn’t make it to Broadway) are especially piercing.  “Show Some Respect” sounds like it came straight out of The Threepenny Opera, and the stirring title song and “What Have We Got?” seem promising fodder for Broadway production numbers. However, it’s the entertaining qualities of the lively waltz-time ditty “The Night the Pugilist Learned How to Dance” that most blatantly marks this recording as an album of Broadway-bound material. —  Lisa Jo Sagolla

Original Broadway Cast, 2014 (Universal) (5 / 5) Featuring wonderfully earthy, Celtic-inflected music and lyrics by Sting, The Last Ship is marred only by John Logan and Brian Yorkey’s unimaginative book, its parable-like plot and melodramatic ending providing clichéd framing for the touching songs. The show explores a working-class community’s struggles upon the closing of the shipyard that provided not only its financial lifeline, but also its people’s sense of self-worth. The central character, Gideon, had left town years earlier; he comes home to discover he has a son, reigniting deep-seated conflicts concerning father-son relationships, romantic love, and self-fulfillment. Pulling three songs from his career as a solo musician, Sting’s score is more theatrically successful than one might expect from a pop artist. The title tune’s swaying, triple-meter pulse recalls the rocking of a ship on ocean waves with anthem-like grandeur. “Shipyard” mixes Gilbert & Sullivan-esque verses with raucous, Irish dance music, conveying battles between old rules and new revolutionary fervor. Enriched immeasurably by Rob Mathes’s music direction, orchestrations, and arrangements, the Broadway cast album proves more entertaining than the concept recording, which was performed largely by Sting. The haunting “August Winds” sits better in the voice of Rachel Tucker (who plays Gideon’s love interest, Meg), making her hopeful version of it easier on the ears than Sting’s mournful one. As Gideon’s competitor for Meg’s love, Aaron Lazar sings the memorable “What Say You, Meg?” with a silkiness preferable to Sting’s rawer sound. Every track on the album is winning, none more so than “If You Ever See Me Talking to a Sailor.” A range-y showpiece with character-revealing lyrics set to sexy ethnic rhythms, it exemplifies Sting’s achievement in crafting a well-functioning musical theater score out of songs so specifically rooted in his personal experience.  — L.J.S.

Studio Cast, 1999 (Nonesuch) (4 / 5) Composer-lyricist Adam Guettel’s song cycle Saturn Returns had a brief run at The Public Theater but never got an original cast album. Myths and Hymns comes pretty close, as this recording contains most of the show’s songs (which include additional lyrics by Ellen Fitzhugh) and features the original cast joined by three more wonderful performers: Billy Porter, Audra McDonald, and the dulcet-toned composer himself. The album delivers what the title promises, offering Guettel’s unique perspectives on Greek myths, musical settings of obscure hymnal lyrics, and original hymns. Most of the mythic songs are humorous, modern psychological deconstructions of such legends as the one about Icarus, while the hymns capture both the optimism and anguish of spiritual belief; listen to Porter’s fiery “Awaiting You” for the best example of the latter. One of the most striking pieces concerns an abortion. The style of composition varies greatly, from the funky electronics of “Icarus” to the joyful gospel sound of “There’s a Shout,” the angular “Children of the Heavenly King,” and the soaring “Migratory V.” “Hero and Leander” is a ravishing romantic ballad, and even more compelling is “Saturn Returns,” a musical monologue in which the composer laments: “I don’t know what I hunger for, I only know I feel the hunger more and more with every passing day.” — Brooke Pierce

Original Cast, 1986 (Polydor/Varèse Sarabande/Verve) (3 / 5) Composer-lyricist-Iibrettist Rupert Holmes folded a tribute to the English music hall into his adaptation of Charles Dickens’ unfinished novel The Mystery of Edwin Drood, and he came up with an intriguing musical whodunit. The original cast, as preserved here, is exemplary; it includes the great George Rose and the one-of-a-kind Cleo Laine, along with heavy-hitting Broadway pros Howard McGillin, Patti Cohenour, Judy Kuhn, Donna Murphy, and belter extraordinaire Betty Buckley in the title role. “The Wages of Sin” is a specialty number delivered stylishly by Laine, and the haunting “Moonfall” is beautifully rendered by Cohenour. Other standouts are the boisterous opening number, “There You Are”; the breathless “Both Sides of the Coin”; the exciting “Don’t Quit While You’re Ahead”; and the finale, “The Writing on the Wall.” This show’s peculiar distinction is that it allowed audiences to vote on how the plot should conclude. The two separate CD editions of the cast recording offer varying material in regard to those choices, and the Varèse reinstates “Ceylon” and the “Moonfall” quartet, which are not on the Polydor disc. But all of the tracks are available in mp3 format. — Matthew Murray

Broadway Cast, 2013 (DRG) (5 / 5) This is one of the most exuberant cast albums out there. From the exhilarating opening address to the audience, “There You Are,” through to the final high-vaulted chords of “The Writing On the Wall,” there’s a palpable sense that the whole cast — and even the orchestra — are having endless fun scampering over the dexterously, densely written landscape of Rupert Holmes’ score. With The Mystery of Edwin Drood, Holmes proved himself a quadruple threat, having written the show’s music, book, lyrics, and orchestrations. Part of the infectious energy of this Broadway revival cast album comes from the way the cast leans into the show-within-a-show framework; they’re all portraying English music hall actors putting on a production of Drood, so everyone heightens but only slightly hams up their performances. And what performances they are: Will Chase as a terrifying John Jasper, chomping at the bit with lunacy and lust; Betsy Wolfe, adding an edge to the silver-voiced Rosa Bud; Jessie Mueller, stealing the show with delicious venom as Helena; the extraordinary Stephanie J. Block, whose belt has never been put to better use, leading the company in the title role. And even though Broadway icon Chita Rivera is given the score’s least compelling pair of songs, she shines with affectionate raunchiness as the madam, Princess Puffer. This Drood is at its best when the cast members team up for duets such as “Perfect Strangers” and “The Name of Love”/“Moonlight Reprise,” or ensemble moments in “No Good Can Come From Mad” and the stunning “Moonlight Quartet.” Departing from the 1986 recording, the revival album includes the rich instrumental “Opium Den Ballet” plus a new second act opener, “An English Music Hall,” and a freshly-conceived version of “Ceylon”/“A British Subject” that erupts into Holmes’ distinctively opulent counterpoint. (The music hall context lets Mueller and Andy Karl get away with caricatured accents that would otherwise come across as offensive). As for the show’s alternative endings, this album smartly reduces the Detective Datchery reveals to two tracks, keeps in all eight murderers’ confessions, and adds a clever album-only mashup of the possible pairs of lovers. A final note of praise is that the recording is gorgeously mixed; you can understand every word of Holmes’ tangly text, and individual instruments (especially in the reed section) feel like characters themselves. — Dan Rubins

Original Broadway Cast, 1983 (Atlantic) (3 / 5) This “new” musical was written around old George and Ira Gershwin songs. During its troubled pre-Broadway tryout, book writer Peter Stone and the uncredited Mike Nichols oversaw an extensive reworking of the show, with star Tommy Tune taking over as director. They surprised everybody by pulling it off; by the time My One and Only reached New York, it was delightful. The cast album is not a fully accurate representation of the production, which was much more fluid than this recording suggests, with witty dance numbers popping up from the ensemble as well as the stars. (This is the show in which Twiggy and Tommy Tune tap-danced in water during “S Wonderful.”) Several songs have been left off the album, including the chorus number “Just Another Rhumba.” A more serious omission is dancer Honi Coles’ big first-act showcase, “High Hat” — a skillful weave of dialogue, singing, and dance that was inexplicably replaced on the recording by a straightforward version of “Sweet and Lowdown.” On the other hand, Twiggy and Tune are heard duetting in “Little Jazz Bird,” even though that number was cut from the show. Throughout, the stars are charming, and the music and lyrics incomparable. A partial list of highlights: “I Can’t Be Bothered Now,” “Boy Wanted,” “Soon,” “He Loves and She Loves,” “How Long Has This Been Going On?” and, of course, the fabulous title song. — David Wolf

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 2003 (PS Classics) (3 / 5) With a book and lyrics by Richard Nelson, who also directed the show, My Life With Albertine has a powerful and distinctive score; composer Ricky Ian Gordon’s work here, ranging from near-operatic arias to comic songs, bursts with musical invention and is given a wonderful French flavor by Bruce Coughlin’s tasty orchestrations. The top-notch cast is led by Kelli O’Hara and Brent Carver. O’Hara is particularly impressive, displaying great dramatic and musical range — and she gets most of the best material. Carver’s numbers are more varied in quality, but his layered performance makes even his odder songs seem natural for his character. Although Chad Kimball doesn’t quite reach his co-stars’ level of achievement, the overqualified members of the ensemble — including Emily Skinner, Donna Lynne Champlin, and Brooke Sunny Moriber — sound pretty much perfect throughout. — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 1992 (RCA) (3 / 5) No two Stephen Flaherty-Lynn Ahrens scores sound remotely alike. Here, the flavor is bright, clever, and wonderfully varied. In adapting the popular film My Favorite Year to the musical stage, the team did first-rate work, from the dynamite opening number “Twenty Million People” to the hilarious and touching “Funny” to the warm “Shut Up and Dance.” Michael Starobin’s orchestrations reflect the show’s setting with just the right 1960s New York brassiness, and Ted Sperling conducts with great verve. Would that the cast were so consistently strong. Yes, Andrea Martin lands every joke, and Tim Curry’s self-loathing Alan Swann (read: Errol Flynn) comes through vividly on disc. But Lainie Kazan’s Jewish mama is over the top, Tom Mardirosian’s King Kaiser (read: Sid Caesar) should be side-splitting but is merely unpleasant, and leading man Evan Pappas tries too hard to be liked; his relentless niceness nearly kills the affecting “Larger Than Life.” Still, this recording shows off the work of two supremely gifted songwriters. — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1956 (Columbia/Sony) (5 / 5) My Fair Lady is still regarded by many as the supreme achievement of the American musical theater, and the original performances of Rex Harrison as Henry Higgins, Julie Andrews as Eliza Doolittle, Stanley Holloway as Alfred P. Doolittle, and Robert Coote as Colonel Pickering are considered definitive. Overall, lyricist-librettist Alan Jay Lerner and composer Frederick Loewe did such a masterful job in adapting George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion to the musical stage that critics have been happy to forgive the several grammatical errors in Lerner’s lyrics, as well as his use of some words and expressions that are not employed in British English. The show was the biggest hit of its era, and you can hear the excitement of everyone involved on the cast album, recorded in the flush of great success. Harrison has the time of his life as Higgins; his obvious enjoyment of the role makes an overbearing character tremendously entertaining. The young Andrews is a dream Eliza, equally effective as the squawking guttersnipe and the grand lady with pear-shaped tones. Her best moments on the album are “I Could Have Danced All Night” and “Show Me,” but she’s loverly throughout. Holloway, in the role of Eliza’s father, is a charming rogue as he leads the ensemble in “With a Little Bit of Luck” and “Get Me to the Church on Time.” Coote is wonderfully droll as Pickering, and the rich-voiced John Michael King does a fine job with Freddy Eynsford-Hill’s “On the Street Where You Live.” Franz Allers conducts the score with great skill and energy.  (The fabulous orchestrations are by Robert Russell Bennett and Philip J. Lang.) As performed and recorded here, “The Rain in Spain” is an electrifying moment of joyful triumph, and if the first few measures of the brilliant overture don’t start your pulse racing, you’ve probably already shuffled off this mortal coil. Whatever its minor flaws, this recording is stunningly well done, and should be a cornerstone of every cast album collection. — Michael Portantiere

Original London Cast, 1959 (Columbia/Sony) (2 / 5) The peerless original Broadway cast album of My Fair Lady was recorded just a few months before stereo was established as the industry norm. Since the four leads of the Broadway production repeated their roles in London, the powers that were at Columbia Records decided that a new cast album in true stereo would be highly marketable. Alas, the London recording turned out to be a disappointment. As Higgins, Rex Harrison here indulges in quite a bit of overacting. Julie Andrews, who was reportedly ill for the recording sessions, sounds rather tired and droopy — although, on the plus side, her delivery of Eliza’s Cockney accent here is more natural than on the prior album, which helps make for a more satisfying performance of “Wouldn’t it Be Loverly?” in particular. This time out, both Andrews and Stanley Holloway do an awful lot of talk-singing,  giving Harrison a run for his money in that respect. Robert Coote rushes “You Did It,” which is surprising, since conductor Cyril Ornadel’s conducting of this and some of the other songs is very brisk to begin with (and quite sloppy in a few sections). In Freddy’s “On the Street Where You Live,” Leonard Weir sounds a little thin and under-powered in his lower register, even though the key of the song has been raised, but his voice blooms on the high notes,  and his accent is more authentically British than his Broadway predecessor. (The latter can also be said of the members of the singing ensemble, which of course is not surprising under the circumstances.) Ironically, the sound quality of this recording is inferior to that of the original; yes, the London album is stereophonic, but there’s significant distortion in certain tracks, most severely in the overture, and the general timbre of the sound lacks the warmth of the monophonic original. A fascinating anomaly of the album is that it reflects some rewrites done by Lerner because he only belatedly realized (or was informed) that several words, phrases, and expressions he had used in his lyrics are not employed in British English. So, for example, in “Get Me to The Church on Time,” the phrase “stamp me and mail me” was changed to “bond me and bail me” (as the Brits say “post” rather than “mail”), and in “Show Me,” Eliza here sings “Please don’t implore, beg or beseech, don’t make a speech” rather than “Don’t talk of June, don’t talk of fall, don’t talk at all” (as the Brits say “autumn,” never “fall.”) Note: The CD/digital issue of this album includes as a bonus track Percy Faith’s recording of the beautiful “Embassy Waltz,” which had not been recorded for either the original Broadway or the London cast album.   — M.P.

Film Soundtrack, 1964 (Columbia/Sony) (3 / 5) This recording boasts fabulous orchestrations by Alexander Courage, Robert Franklyn, and Al Woodbury, created under the supervision of conductor André Previn. The orchestrations are lush without ever seeming gimmicky or overblown. Rex Harrison’s Henry Higgins actually sounds fresher here than on the London cast recording; it would seem that a break from the role benefited his performance. As for Eliza Doolittle, the initial plan was to try to use Audrey Hepburn’s singing voice as much as possible, so she recorded several of the songs transposed to the keys in which she was most comfortable. But even after it was decided that “Ghostess with the Mostest” Marni Nixon would dub almost all of Hepburn’s singing (except for the first and last sections of “Just You Wait” and two lines at the beginning of “I Could Have Danced All Night”), the Hepburn keys were retained. As a result, Nixon’s performance was compromised, and Eliza’s songs come across only moderately well on this recording. But Stanley Holloway, back again as Alfie Doolittle, is delightful as ever; Wilfrid Hyde-White is an ingratiating Pickering; and vocal ghost Bill Shirley ardently sings “On the Street Where You Live” on behalf of actor Jeremy Brett’s Freddy, even if their voices seem quite a poor match when you hear the switch from dialogue to song while watching the film. The CD is a much-expanded version of the original LP. Extras include a lovely orchestral version of “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?” for the flower market scene preceding “With a Little Bit of Luck,” the servants’ chorus lead-in to “The Rain in Spain,” the intermission and exit music, and best of all, the gorgeous “Embassy Waltz.” Interestingly, all of the song lyrics as heard in the film are the original versions, complete with the inauthentic American rather than British phrasing noted in the review of the London cast album above. — M.P.

Broadway Cast, 1976 (Columbia/Masterworks Broadway) (4 / 5) The CD edition of this cast album of the 20th anniversary Broadway revival of My Fair Lady was issued belatedly but was very welcome when it did appear, as the recording is  arguably second only to the original cast album in general excellence. Ian Richardson is a mercurial Higgins, even if perhaps he does a bit too much shouting.  Christine Andreas is a superb, golden-voiced Eliza, singing some of the character’s songs in higher keys than Julie Andrews did for the OBCR, with perfect cockney and then RP accents. George Rose has a marvelous, rousing time as Alfie P. Doolittle; he won a Tony Award for his performance, in the Best Actor rather than Featured Actor category. It’s great to have the wonderfully funny and authentic Robert Coote back as Colonel Pickering. And Jerry Lanning is the most vocally resplendent Freddy on record, so much so that when he sings “On the Street Where You Live,” you expect Eliza to throw herself right into his arms. The sound quality of the recording is somewhat dry, but sharp and clear. And it sure is a lovely bonus that the album cover features a new sketch by the legendary Al Hirschfeld, a treasureable companion piece to his iconic work for the original production. — M.P.

Studio Cast, 1987 (London) (3 / 5) As Eliza Doolittle, the Maori operatic soprano Kiri Te Kanawa affects a convincing Cockney accent, and her voice blooms in the higher reaches of the score. Still, there’s a studied quality to her performance, and she sounds a bit too mature for the role — more grande dame than young girl, especially after Eliza’s transformation into a lady with perfect speech. Also, the keys of some of Eliza’s music have been raised for Te Kanawa, and this is sometimes counterproductive, as in “Show Me.” Jeremy Irons is quite persuasive as Higgins, although he perhaps overdoes the petulance and anger of the character, and he sings rather than speaks more of Higgins’ songs than is desirable. Conversely, Sir John Gielgud talks his way nearly throughout “You Did It,” almost never matching pitches, and he sounds ancient. On the plus side, opera tenor Jerry Hadley’s voice is well suited for “On the Street Where You Live,” and Warren Mitchell is a colorful Alfie Doolittle. The Brit dialect accents called for in the various choral numbers, whether RP in “The Ascot Gavotte” or Cockney in “With a Little Bit of Luck” and “Get Me to the Church on Time,” are accurately rendered by The London Voices. The London Symphony Orchestra is ably led by John Mauceri, and more of the brilliant My Fair Lady score is included here than in any previous recording. — M.P.

Studio Cast, 1993-94 (JAY, 2CDs) (3 / 5) This note-complete aural document of the score is essential if only for archival purposes. In the case of My Fair Lady, completeness is particularly important for the dance music, largely omitted on other recordings of the score but included here. Other pluses: Alec McCowan is a delightful Higgins, and Tinuke Olafimihan is an excellent Eliza, fully credible in the Cockney numbers and singing “I Could Have Danced All Night” gloriously. As Freddy, Henry Wickham performs “On the Street Where You Live” with sincerity, although his voice is rather shaky. Michael Denison is serviceable as Pickering, even if he makes little attempt to match pitches in “You Did It.” But Bob Hoskins, a fine actor, simply doesn’t have enough voice for Alfred P. Doolittle’s songs; he sounds very raspy throughout, and his lower register is basically non-existent. The National Symphony Orchestra, recorded in state-of-the-art sound, plays beautifully in some sections but sloppily in others under John Owens Edwards; for example, there’s a flubbed entrance at the top of the overture that really should have prompted a retake. — M.P.

London Cast, 2001 (First Night) 0 stars; not recommended. As soon as you hear this cast album begin without the pulse-quickening music that began every previous production and recording of My Fair Lady, you’ll sense that you’re in for a deeply disappointing experience. Aside from fussy rearrangements/re-orchestrations by the normally reliable William David Brohn, the performance suffers from some very weak casting. As Eliza, Martine McCutcheon displays an exceedingly thin voice, and Mark Umbers’ rendition of Freddy’s “On the Street Where You Live” is full of superficial, heavy-handed effects but lacks real emotion. On the credit side, Jonathan Pryce offers an intelligent characterization of Henry Higgins, deftly walking the line between singing and speaking, and his imitation of Zoltan Karpathy’s Hungarian accent in “You Did It” is genuinely funny. As Pickering, Nicholas Le Prevost is also fine, and his byplay with Pryce is delightful. But it’s difficult to enjoy these worthy performances, given the setting. This recording is sadly indicative of the destructive influence that producer Cameron Mackintosh has had on musical theater, both in terms of his productions of poorly written new shows and his ill-conceived revivals of classics. — M.P.

Broadway Cast, 2018 (Broadway Records) (4 / 5) Here’s the most satisfying — or, to put it another way, the least problematic — cast recording of My Fair Lady in many years. Lauren Ambrose made a largely well-received musical theater debut as Eliza in this Lincoln Center Theater production, her performance marred only by some odd physical mannerisms when singing and a tendency to lag behind the beat throughout her songs. That first issue obviously doesn’t mar the cast album, and the second one seems to have been addressed during the recording sessions, so Ambrose’s performance here is quite enjoyable overall. Harry Hadden-Paton brings a refreshingly youthful energy to the role of Higgins; he sings the notes written in the score, rather than declaiming the lyrics, far more often than any recorded Higgins before him, with the possible exception of Alec McCowan. This is not necessarily the wisest decision, because some of the actual melody lines for Higgins’ songs are rather uninteresting, but it does help Hadden-Paton to make his performance his own. Norbert Leo Butz has a fine time with Alfie Doolittle’s numbers, Jordan Donica as Freddy Eynsford-Hill sings “On the Street Where You Live” beautifully, and Allan Corduner as Pickering is charming in what little he has to do on the recording. A 29-piece orchestra plays sumptuously under Ted Sperling, and happily, there has been no pointless futzing around with the brilliant, original overture, as Sperling had previously done with the overture of The King and I for the LCT production and recording of that classic. — M.P.

Original Broadway Cast, 1957 (Capitol) (5 / 5) This is one of the greatest of all cast albums. Meredith Willson, in his first Broadway effort, wrote the colorful, varied music and lyrics. The score of The Music Man is full of innovation, beginning with the unconventional opening “Rock Island,” in which a group of traveling salesmen rhythmically discuss how Harold Hill is ruining their business — instant exposition in a musical number with no actual singing! There follows an excellent chorale that introduces the “Iowa Stubborn” townspeople. After having been turned down by song-and-dance men Danny Kaye and Gene Kelly, the role of “Professor” Hill went to Robert Preston, an established stage/screen actor who had no prior musical credits. And what a blessing that turned out to be. Preston is mesmerizing in the half-spoken, half-sung “Trouble” and he sings “Seventy-Six Trombones” with enormous skill and gusto. His rendition of “The Sadder-but-Wiser Girl” reveals a vaudevillian’s pizzazz, yet he also sounds fully at home in the soft-shoe-tempo love song “Marian the Librarian” and holds his own in the ballad “Till There Was You.” Most of that ballad is sung by Barbara Cook, arguably the greatest soprano leading lady/ingenue in Broadway history. After a delightful “Piano Lesson” (Marian telling her mom, played by Pert Kelton, about Harold Hill having followed her home), Cook takes the beautiful “Goodnight My Someone” and makes it shimmer. When she sings about the man of her dreams in “My White Knight,” it’s a perfect expression of romantic yearning. And when Marian’s emotions explode in the discovery of “Till There Was You,” it’s one of those rare moments when a cast album gives you the thrill of a live performance. The Buffalo Bills do excellent barbershop-quartet singing. Eddie Hodges, as little brother Winthrop, lisps charmingly through “Gary, Indiana” and adds to the excitement of “The Wells Fargo Wagon.” And Iggie Wolfington, as Marcellus, has great fun with “Shipoopi.” The one thing missing is the complete original overture. While it may be hard to comprehend how The Music Man won the Tony Award for Best Musical over West Side Story, this album does make it clear why the show was such a hit. — Jeffrey Dunn

Original London Cast, 1961 (HMV/Sepia) (2 / 5) In the London production of The Music Man, Van Johnson played Harold Hill. The film star was a selling point at the box office, and he also brought a real American presence to the British cast. This recording is a fun listen, if not distinctive. Johnson’s performance is more than pleasant, and Patricia Lambert sings beautifully as Marian. A particular standout is the Winthrop, Denis Waterman. A regrettably abridged version of this album was released on a budget-priced CD by Laserlight in 1995; missing from it were “Iowa Stubborn,” “Piano Lesson,” “Sincere,” “The Sadder-but-Wiser Girl,” “My White Knight,” and “Shipoopi.” Go with the more recent Sepia CD edition, which presents the complete recording. — J.D.

Film Soundtrack, 1962 (Warner Bros.) (4 / 5) Your feelings about this recording will depend on several things: Do you prefer Hollywood’s Shirley Jones to Broadway’s Barbara Cook? Do you favor the souped-up movie arrangements/orchestrations, or the stage originals? Do you think the conventional ballad “Being in Love” is an improvement over the more complex “My White Knight?” Would you rather hear Robert Preston’s Harold Hill as he sounded when the show first opened, or after he had been playing the role for a few years? Since responses to all of those questions are highly subjective, I won’t try to convince you one way or the other. Anyway, of primary importance is Preston — and on this disc, his Harold Hill is as spontaneous and irreplaceable as ever. Buddy Hackett is an engaging Marcellus, Hermione Gingold makes a major impact in her few vocal moments, and Ronnie Howard is delightful as Winthrop. Pert Kelton wonderfully reprises her Broadway role as Mrs. Paroo, and The Buffalo Bills are also on hand again. — J.D.

Studio Cast, 1991 (Telarc) (1 / 5)This recording features Erich Kunzel conducting the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra; it uses a mixture of the Broadway and film orchestrations of the score. Included are “My White Knight,” “Being in Love,” and Harold Hill’s version of “Gary, Indiana.” The orchestrations are credited to Don Walker (Broadway), Ray Heindorf (film), and four other gentlemen — so if the album doesn’t sound consistently theatrical, small wonder. The movie’s overture is also here, along with dance music that seems an amalgam of the stage and film versions, none of it played with much excitement. There is a huge chorus: the Indiana University Singing Hoosiers. Timothy Noble plays the title role; the notes refer to him as a leading operatic baritone, but his portrayal of Harold Hill is way off the mark. Marian is played by Kathleen Brett, a Canadian soprano who has a pure, pretty voice but does not ignite any sparks. Doc Severinsen plays Marcellus and leads “Shipoopi” with some energy, but the rest of the supporting cast is uninteresting. So, why does this recording deserve even one star? The “It’s You” ballet, previously unrecorded, is included here. Also of interest is a counterpoint version of “My White Knight” and “The Sadder-but-Wiser Girl.” — J.D.

Broadway Cast, 2000 (Q Records) (1 / 5) Onstage, Craig Bierko sounded so astonishingly like Robert Preston in the title role of The Music Man that the actor’s own personality never emerged. On this cast album, the similarity is great enough to be spooky; you may wonder, “Which recording did I put on?” Since any successful production or recording of this show must have a dynamic Harold Hill, Bierko is a major handicap. On the plus side, Rebecca Luker’s performances of “Goodnight, My Someone” and “My White Knight” are beautifully sung. The barbershop quartet is also fine, but adding the voices of Harold and Mrs. Paroo (Katherine McGrath) to “Gary, Indiana” barely allows Michael Phelan to register as Winthrop. Finally, while the album contains almost every bit of music that was heard in this revival, along with dialogue to add dramatic punch, the new orchestrations (by Doug Besterman) and dance arrangements (by David Crane) aren’t improvements on the originals. In fact, adding accompaniment to “Rock Island” is harmful, as the lyrics don’t fall as pungently on the ear. — J.D.

Television Film Soundtrack, 2003 (Disney) (1 / 5) The casting of Matthew Broderick as Harold Hill was controversial, to say the least. Some viewers of this TV film may have gradually fallen under Broderick’s spell and, by the final scenes, may have bought into his subtle characterization. On the soundtrack recording, however, his performances of “Trouble” and “Seventy-Six Trombones” are simply too low-key. Broderick does a little better with “The Sadder-but-Wiser Girl” and “Marian the Librarian,” but Hill’s first two songs must establish the character strongly for the show to work. On the plus side, Kristin Chenoweth’s Marian is enchanting. The supporting players are all good actors who sing well, but their vocals don’t have much éclat and often seem muted. Some of the musical changes that were made for the big-screen version of The Music Man are included here, but how nice that Chenoweth sings “My White Knight” instead of the inferior “Being in Love.” — J.D.

Broadway Cast, 2022 (Accidental Jacket Entertainment) (1 / 5) After the COVID-19 pandemic had shut down theatre for nearly two years, Broadway needed a hit to entice audiences back to NYC and live performances. Enter Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster, headlining an expensive, old-fashioned staging of The Music Man. The show proved to be a major success in terms of ticket sales, but artistically, its merits are arguable, as evidenced by the cast recording. On the plus side, we have a full, rich-sounding orchestra and a large, robust ensemble performing Meredith Willson’s score for maximum impact. Jonathan Tunick’s orchestrations are mostly lush and appropriate, following the mold of Don Walker’s originals (except for added percussion in “Rock Island”). This is also perhaps the most complete of any Music Man recording to date, including every bar of incidental music as well as large excerpts of dialogue. However, there are major setbacks. First, there’s a “Shipoopi” with rewritten lyrics (by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman) that are meant to address recent complaints about the original version’s gender politics. Sung by Shuler Hensley, whose gruff baritone is a mismatch for the role of the impish Marcellus, this new version of the song is far less fun than the original. But most detrimental to the recording are the performances of Jackman and Foster. Though Jackman gives his all to Harold Hill’s songs, he sounds tired and strained, and over-singing causes many of his musical moments to come across as effortful rather than effortless. Foster, meanwhile, is vocally wrong for Marian Paroo, each of her songs having been reconfigured to accommodate her brassy belt rather than challenge her to engage her soprano register. As a result, none of these songs soar as they did when sung by Barbara Cook or Rebecca Luker for previous recordings. One of the most disappointing tracks here is “My White Knight,” presented in an earlier version by Willson that features a lengthy patter section at the beginning. With the definitive original cast recording, the fantastic movie soundtrack, and the 2000 revival cast album available, this Music Man feels more incidental than essential. — Matt Koplik