Off-Broadway Cast, 1996 (Varèse Sarabande) (4 / 5) “Oh my God, that’s me up there!” was an audience whisper heard often during the long run of this musical revue, the winning work of Joe DiPietro (lyrics) and Jimmy Roberts (music). Unapologetically middlebrow and critic-proof, the show is not the wittiest or most profound examination of male-female relationships ever written, but it’s a parade of good revue ideas smartly developed: nerds on a date, macho posturing, the shortage of straight, single men, baby-talking parents, geriatric romance, and more. Roberts relies on pastiche — some Lite-FM rock here, a sweet ballad there — and the music supports rather than overwhelms the lyrics. DiPietro rhymes a bit lazily and sometimes stumbles to weak endings, but the general tenor of the songs is likeable. All of the cast members sing well and slip effortlessly in and out of varied characterizations: Danny Burstein as an alpha male blubbering through a chick flick; Jennifer Simard as a mousy date; Melissa Weil bemoaning a bridesmaid’s plight (“For Tabitha, I wore taffeta / You never should, people laugh at ya”); and Robert Roznowski in the generic but affecting “Shouldn’t I Be Less in Love With You?” Roberts did his own vocal and instrumental arrangements, which are as modest and to-the-point as the show itself.  — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1977 (Atlantic/DRG) (2 / 5) “Wife-swapping” was already a dated topic in 1977, but this miniature musical sex farce was the surprise hit of the season. Audiences were taken with the zippy score by Cy Coleman and Michael Stewart (the latter also wrote the book), and by Gene Saks’ clever staging, which featured four onstage musicians commenting on the action involving two inept pairs of married swingers in Trenton, NJ. The show launched the career of comic actor Lenny Baker, who sadly died a few years later before attaining real stardom. From a 21st century vantage point, many of the songs — with their coy sex jokes and titles like “Love Revolution,” “Sexually Free,” “Ev’rybody Today Is Turning On,” and “Married Couple Seeks Married Couple” — come across as so many outtakes from a PG-13 version of Oh! Calcutta! But Coleman is, as always, a true pro, and Stewart’s lyrics are generally nimble and literate. A few numbers are first-class, including the wistful country ballad “Someone Wonderful I Missed” and the touching title tune. The second-act opener, “Hey There, Good Times,” is classic Coleman — an irresistible ragtime stomp — with delicious Stewart lyrics, though it has virtually nothing to do with the plot of the show. The cast, including the young Joanna Gleason, James Naughton, and Ilene Graff, is fine. — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 1967 (United Artists/Kritzerland) No stars; not recommended. Having had an art-house film hit with Never on Sunday, writer-director Jules Dassin and the Mrs., otherwise known as Melina Mercouri, teamed up again for the stage musical version, which ran more than 300 performances before pretty much vanishing from Broadway’s collective memory. The cast album was very belatedly transferred to CD (in 2008), and even then was only made available in a limited edition. Once again, Mercouri is Illya, the happiest prostitute on the island of Piraeus. This time, Orson Bean is Homer, the dopey American intellectual who wants to introduce her to culture and the finer things in life. The score, with music by Manos Hadjidakis (who did the film) and lyrics by Joe Darion, is heavy with bouzoukis (Ralph Burns orchestrated) and lusty, life-affirming numbers. The only song that stands out is “Never on Sunday” — which, of course, comes from the movie. Mercouri’s smoky voice and sexy intonations are fun to hear, but Bean’s numbers, “Golden Land” and “I Think She Needs Me,” are pretty dire. And “Medea Tango,” which tries to replicate one of the funniest moments in the film (when Illya explains Greek tragedy to Homer), falls flat. The actress Despo, playing a character named Despo, sings “I’Il Never Lay Down Anymore,” a title that tells all. There are also silly local-color items such as “Heaven Help the Sailors on a Night Like This.” — David Barbour

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1999 (Varèse Sarabande) (4 / 5) In an introductory note, this diversion’s creator Sheridan Morley recalls that Noël Coward and Gertrude Lawrence acted together only twice, in Private Lives and Tonight at 8:30. At that, their performances in those vehicles were in limited runs in London and New York. Yet the two were in love with each other from their first meeting, when he was 13, she was 14, and they were leaving town for a tour; the word “platonic” hardly begins to explain their devotion. In Morley’s soigné revue, Harry Groener is Noël and Twiggy is Gertie. Together and separately, they toss off the master’s ditties as if strewing rose petals about the luxe set of a boulevard comedy. Groener doesn’t imitate Coward’s purr, because he needn’t do so; he’s got his own casual stylings. Since Lawrence was herself rather twiggy, Twiggy is a wonderful choice to sub for the legendary star. Her voice, nasal but always on pitch, is actually an improvement on Lawrence’s. Twiggy solos in “Parisian Pierrot” and duets with Groener in “You Were There” and “I’ll SeeYou Again.” Groener slides through “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” and “Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Mrs. Worthington.” The talented pair also croon, banter, and tap dance in “Has Anybody Seen Our Ship?” — David Finkle

Original Broadway Cast, 1964 (Mercury/Decca) (3 / 5) With Buddy Hackett starring as a Coney Island psychic who screws up his friends’ love lives, it’s safe to say that I Had a Ball doesn’t have a thought in its silly little head. Nobody really liked Jerome Chodorov’s libretto, but the score by Jack Lawrence and Stan Freeman is enjoyable. The songs often seem shoehorned into the plot, yet the melodies are jazzy with an edge of dark sophistication — and with Richard Kiley and Karen Morrow on board, how bad could it be? The flop-plagued Morrow, one of Broadway’s most distinctive voices, delivers thrilling renditions of the title tune and the mordantly cynical “I’ve Got Everything I Want.” Kiley scores with the rueful 11 o’clock number “Fickle Finger of Fate.” Other fun items include the gospel rouser “Faith,” the biting “Neighborhood” (delivered with gusto by Rosetta Le Noire), and the moody quartet “Can It Be Possible?” Hackett is barely present on the disc but, after hearing his big comedy number “Dr. Freud,” we can only be happy about that. Philip J. Lang’s brassy, jazzy orchestrations add to the fun. This is the kind of score that makes show fans treasure flops. Bonus tracks include two studio versions by Morrow of the title tune and the ballad “Almost,” plus instrumental renditions of two cut numbers, “Lament” and “Be a Phony,” by the Lester Lanin Orchestra.  — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 1966 (RCA)  (5 / 5)  A two-character musical based on the play The Fourposter by Jan de Hartog, about a long-married couple, I Do! I Do! holds a mirror up to the audience, allowing us to revel in the universality of our experiences and to feel the enjoyable shock of recognition. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have Mary Martin and Robert Preston as your leads. This energetic, highly theatrical recording is a knockout; you’d think that listeners would grow tired of a two-person musical, but Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt have lots of surprises up their sleeves. Schmidt varies his rhythms and melodies wonderfully, while Jones offers some rich, poetic lyrics and some remarkably funny ones, such as “A Well Known Fact” and “Nobody’s Perfect.” The requisite romantic songs include the hit “My Cup Runneth Over.” Among the other highlights of the score are “Where are the Snows of Yesteryear?” and “Someone Needs Me.” — Ken Bloom

Off-Broadway Cast (1996) (Varèse Sarabande) (2 / 5) This recording features Broadway stalwarts Karen Ziemba and David Garrison as the long-wed Agnes and Michael. Both sing and act the songs very well, but many listeners will prefer the performances of musical theater icons Martin and Preston, and will feel the piano reduction of the score renders this cast album non-competitive with the original recording. Of course, the songs themselves remain as wonderful as ever. — K.B.

Original Broadway Cast, 1962 (Columbia/Sony) (3 / 5) This show has gone down in history for having launched the career of Barbra Streisand, but there’s so much more here. Jerome Weidman adapted his own novel about a Seventh Avenue go-getter who sells his soul for shmattehs. Composer-lyricist Harold Rome’s score percolates with energy. Elliot Gould stars as schemer Harry Bogen, displaying plenty of nasty vitality in numbers like “The Way Things Are” and “The Sound of Money.” This is, however, an ensemble show filled with vividly etched character portraits. Marilyn Cooper, as the girl who loves Harry, delivers two wry ballads: “When Gemini Meets Capricorn” and “Who Knows?” Lillian Roth, as Harry’s doting mother, offers chicken soup for the soul in the introspective “TooSoon” and the chilling “Eat a Little Something.” And yes, Streisand hits the comedy number “Miss Marmelstein” out of the park. Rome’s lyrics evoke a world of middle-class Jews who work in the garment trade, while his music merges jazz with Yiddish harmonies and a touch of Leonard Bernstein. Sid Rarnin’s percussive orchestrations are among the most unique of the period. It’s an underrated, distinctive achievement.  — David Barbour

Original Cast, 1984 (Kilmarnock Records, 2CDs) (2 / 5) This show flopped big-time when producer Joseph Papp transferred it to Broadway after a run at his Public Theater. Although billed as “a modern opera by Galt MacDermot and William Dumaresq,” The Human Comedy is really more of an oratorio, complete with a Greek-style chorus. Based on a novel by William Saroyan, this musical tale of a small-town American family during World War II is highly sentimental. Some of the lyrics are poetic, but many are awkward or even nonsensical — for example, “Your voice is in fine, fine fetter.” (What?) However, MacDermot’s music is divine throughout. Among the many highlights: “Ulysses Reaches the Crossing,” “Beautiful Music,” “I’ve Known a Lot of Guys,” and the boogie-woogie duet “I Let Him Kiss Me Once.” The score contains at least two hymns, “When I Am Lost” and “Everlasting,” that have absolutely nothing to do with the action, but they’re so lovely that you probably won’t mind. The cast is a mixed bag: Bonnie Koloc, Stephen Geoffreys, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, and Don Kehr are all fine as various Macauley family members. Also good are Leata Galloway as Diana Steed, Caroline Peyton as Mary Arena, and David Johnson as the trainman. On the other hand, young Josh Blake is almost unlistenable as Ulysses Macauley, and Rex Smith is vocally miscast as Spangler. The sound quality of the recording is odd; apparently, it was made onstage with no audience present. As for the CD edition, be aware that, for some reason, the two discs are not tracked at all, so the only way to access particular songs is to use search buttons on your player. Contributing to the slapdash feel of the enterprise, the accompanying booklet leaves out the recording date and repeatedly misspells Saroyan’s name (as “Saroyen”). The Human Comedy definitely deserves to be heard but, given all that’s wrong with the expensive, privately produced CD set, you’d be better off purchasing the recording in MP3 format. — Michael Portantiere

Original Broadway Cast, 1961 (RCA) (4 / 5) George S. Kaufman said that “satire is what closes on Saturday night,” but that certainly did not apply to How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. In its original Broadway run, the show saw three-and-a-half-years’ worth of Saturday nights. With an incisive book by Abe Burrows, Jack Weinstock, and Willie Gilbert, this is a musical comedy that’s truly funny — and it’s got a great Frank Loesser score, from the mock-romantic “Happy to Keep His Dinner Warm” and the intentionally syrupy “Love From a Heart of Gold” to the caffeine-inspired “Coffee Break.” Other highlights are the business-rule numbers “The Company Way” and “A Secretary Is Not a Toy.” Judging by this recording, the original cast was energetic, but star Robert Morse is an acquired taste — and there’s a lot of him here. Although he has the right kind of youthful ebullience for go-getter J. Pierrepont Finch, his singing is best described as “characterful” rather than good. Morse’s leading lady, Bonnie Scott, tends to bray Rosemary’s songs. Charles Nelson Reilly as Finch’s rival, Bud Frump, and Rudy Vallee as company president J. B. Biggley come across much better, as do Sammy Smith and Virginia Martin in their supporting roles. Overall, How to Succeed… succeeds nicely. — Matthew Murray

Original London Cast, 1963 (RCA) (4 / 5) Out of print for decades, this recording is worth seeking out as a delightful addendum to the original Broadway cast album. Happily, a few minor slips notwithstanding, the members of the cast who are actually British manage to sound convincingly American here — a vital point, as this satirical tale of brash go-getters doing their thing in the dog-eat-dog business world of Manhattan circa the early 1960s would seem off kilter with clipped English accents. That said, the two male leads,  Warren Berlinger as Finch and Billy De Wolfe as J.B. Biggley, are in fact American, and both give performances worthy of comparison to their predecessors in these roles. Berlinger’s singing is about as good as Robert Morse’s, and his characterization is pretty much equal in terms of charm and skillfully understated comic finesse. No one would contend that De Wolfe’s voice is as rich as that of Rudy Vallee, but since Biggley’s songs require more in terms of personality than sheer vocal quality (which is the case with most of this score), De Wolfe is terrific in the role. As for the rest of the cast, it’s a safe bet that most listeners will find Patricia Michael’s sound far more pleasing than Bonnie Scott’s in Rosemary’s songs, and both David Knight and Josephine Blake are right on point as Frump and Smitty. This recording is so rare that I have only been able to track it down and hear it in mono, but with that qualification, the sound quality is excellent overall, as is the musical direction and the work of the ensemble. Some interesting trivia: “The Company Way” is performed here by Berlinger and Bernard Spear (as Twimble) in a higher key than the original, and several of the lyrics in other songs have been cleverly rewritten to remove certain references (to F.A.O. Schwartz, Bergdorf-Goodman, Lionel toy trains, the 21 Club, Tarrytown, etc.) that presumably would have been unfamiliar to London audiences. Funnily enough, the “work/clerk” rhyme in “Been a Long Day” remains, despite the fact that those two words don’t rhyme as Brits pronounce them 🙂 — Michael Portantiere

Film Soundtrack, 1967 (United Artists/MGM) (2 / 5) Several of the original Broadway cast members appear in the film version of How to Succeed…, and Rosemary is played by Michele Lee, who was a replacement in the role on Broadway and on tour. She does a much better job with the songs than Bonnie Scott, sounding warmer and far more natural. However, she doesn’t have many songs: “Happy to Keep His Dinner Warm” and “Paris Original” were both excised from the stage score for the movie. Lee does perform a solo version of “I Believe in You,” but is otherwise heard only in the trio “Been a Long Day.” Robert Morse, Rudy Vallee, Sammy Smith, and Ruth Kobart (as J. B. Biggley’s executive secretary) from the Broadway cast all sound good here, so does John Myhers as Mr. Bratt in “A Secretary is Not a Toy,” and although Anthony Teague doesn’t have Charles Nelson Reilly’s nervous energy, he’s fine as Frump. The “Coffee Break” number may be heard on this soundtrack album but is not in the movie, having been filmed but cut from it. While the incompleteness of this recording diminishes its appeal, avid Frank Loesser fans may value it. — M.M.

Broadway Cast, 1995 (RCA) (2 / 5) This is a very full recording. In addition to the show’s voice-over passages (spoken by Walter Cronkite!), it includes some incidental music, a number of reprises, and even the Pirate Dance. The album boasts new orchestrations by Danny Troob that are even brassier than the originals, a reworked “Brotherhood of Man” with a lot of scatting from Lillias White as Miss Jones, and a new second-act opener. There’s also a reprise of the title song (with new lyrics written by the production’s director, Des McAnuff) in place of the cut “Cinderella, Darling.”  If these changes aren’t really improvements, neither are they significant detriments. Megan Mullally is an ideal Rosemary, and Victoria Clark provides a very well sung Smitty. Jeff Blumenkrantz is Frump; other roles are well done by Ronn Carroll, Gerry Vichi, and Jonathan Freeman. Luba Mason’s Hedy is a bit too vacant, though she makes quite a vocal effect when she slides up a full octave at the end of “Love From a Heart of Gold.” But then there’s Matthew Broderick, singing and acting in the same constipated style that he would later bring to The Producers and  other shows. While he hits all the right notes in Finch’s songs and only sounds strained a couple of times, he never sounds real. — M.M.

Broadway Cast, 2011 (Decca) (2 / 5) The first 21st-century Broadway revival (sorry, “revisal”) of How to Succeed was done in by the direction of Rob Ashford, who somehow managed to remove most of the humor from this sharply satirical show and left his cast adrift to fend for themselves — including Daniel Radcliffe, for whom the central star role of J. Pierrepont Finch might have been a perfect fit if he had had a competent director to guide him. But this is one of those not infrequent cases where the cast album is far more pleasurable on its own terms than the production itself. Because we don’t have to endure Ashford’s dimming of the comedy in the show’s dialogue, nor need we experience his deplorable staging and choreography, sometimes overloaded and sometimes inadequate or non existent (such as his having left Radcliffe to stand on stage doing literally nothing during each and every one of those little orchestral interludes in “I Believe in You”), we’re free to enjoy what this production had to offer in terms of musical values. Radcliffe’s singing voice is clear, strong, youthful, and pleasant, his American accent is flawless, and the charm he exhibited in all those Harry Potter films is intact, so his performance here is highly effective, regardless of what it lacked on stage. On the minus side, listeners may wish that John Larroquette had a bit more of a singing voice to bring to Biggley’s musical moments. Standouts in other roles are Rose Hemingway as Rosemary, Tammy Blanchard as Hedy La Rue, and Rob Bartlett as Twimble/Womper, but one’s enjoyment (or not) of this recording may depend largely on how one feels about the aggressive rearrangements and re-orchestrations of the score by David Chase and Doug Besterman. — M.P.

Original Broadway Cast, 1968 (RCA) (3 / 5) The story of a misfit who, rather than committing suicide, decides to try his hand at selling stock, this show made audiences laugh for one season and is hardly remembered today. But the cast album reveals what a creative collaboration the prolific film composer Elmer Bernstein had with the devilishly clever lyricist Carolyn Leigh. How Now, DowJones begins with a clever explanation of the workings of Wall Street (“ABC”), then deals with various characters’ romantic problems. The talented belter Marlyn Mason and the wonderfully zany Brenda Vaccaro raise their voices in “They Don’t Make ‘Em Like That Anymore.” After spending the night with the suicidal Charley (Tony Roberts), Mason’s character sings the excellent ballad “Walk Away.” Charley decides not to jump out of a window when some Wall Streeters tell him that all he must do to succeed is “Gawk, Tousle and Shucks.” He goes off to sell stocks to widows, which leads to the show-stopping ensemble march “Step to the Rear.” Also among the score’s highlights are “Rich Is Better,” “Shakespeare Lied,” and “He’s Here.” — Jeffrey Dunn

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1995 (RCA) (3 / 5) This show was the brainchild of costume designer Howard Crabtree, whose outlandishly funny costumes were the real stars of the production—each outfit more elaborate than the last, yet all looking as if they cost pennies to build. Throughout, Crabtree (playing himself) is heckled by Jay Rogers, who questions his taste and preaches that “less is more.” This gives the revue a sort of structure and also a good finish: Howard uses “Less Is More” as a finale that belies its title, going on and on and on. The songs include one about the much-married Elizabeth Taylor, one featuring the Invisible Dance Company (“They’re the biggest no-talents I’ve never seen,” complains Rogers; “I can see right through them!”), and one about Sgt. Sirloin and his corps of patriotic potatoes being shaken by the arrival of Private Banana (“The new recruit is a fruit!”). There’s also a mini-musical about Nancy Reagan’s life, and a number called “You Are My Idol,” in which an airplane accidentally drops a crate of cast albums on a tribe of primitives who assume it’s an offering from the gods and begin worshiping/imitating Ethel Merman, Carol Channing, and Rex Harrison. The sensibility throughout is matter-of-factly gay, although not so much as to make straight folks uncomfortable. The material was mostly written by Mark Waldrop and Dick Gallagher, but there are also contributions by David Rambo, Peter Morris, Brad Ellis, Eric Schorr, Bruce Sussman, and Jack Feldman.  — David Wolf

Original Broadway Cast, 1954 (Columbia/Sony) (5 / 5) The cast album of Harold Arlen and Truman Capote’s flop musical set in a West Indian bordello is stunning and unique; the steel drums and whistles of the overture announce a 1950s musical with a sound like no other. The opening number, for the girls of the house, promises an unusual frankness for the era, and Capote’s lyrics (“Drowsin’, dreamin,’ moonbeamin’ / ’bout the thing we’re supreme in”) are amazing for a beginner. Pearl Bailey, owning the show as Madame Fleur, throws her weight around in “One Man Ain’t Quite Enough” and caps the number with an outrageous ad lib that passed instantly into cast-album legend. A teenage Diahann Carroll, nursing a cold for the recording session, nonetheless oozes charm and unselfconscious allure in “A Sleepin’ Bee.” And that’s just the first 15 minutes! (More oddball cast album history is made later, when Carroll’s voice gives out near the end of “I Never Has Seen Snow” and Arlen has to dub a high note for her.) It’s a spellbinding score with quirky orchestrations by Ted Royal, thrillingly conducted by Jerry Arlen. For the 2003 CD reissue of this treasured recording, Columbia/Sony remastered everything and made the audio crisper; put the songs in their stage order; found a longer, more sumptuous take of “Mardi Gras”; let the tape run a few seconds longer on “Wait’in'”; and inserted a “Mardi Gras Waltz” from a Percy Faith album. There are other bonus tracks — a single of “Two Ladies in de Shade of de Banana Tree” by cast member Enid Mosier, a tape of Arlen’s first draft of “A Sleepin’ Bee,” and Capote reading an excerpt from his source-material short story — plus a booklet that contains some photos from the gorgeous original production. The cumulative effect is compelling. For a half-century, people have heard this amazing score and wondered why such a show failed. We’re lucky, at least, that House of Flowers yielded one of the great cast albums. — Marc Miller

Off-Broadway Cast, 1968 (United Artists/Kritzerland) (1 / 5) Original producer Saint Subber unwisely ordered a major rewrite of House of Flowers for a new, scaled-down Off-Broadway production that yielded this cast album in shrill stereo. Here, the islanders appear more willfully ignorant than disarmingly unworldly. Some great songs (“One Man Ain’t Quite Enough,” “Genna Leave Off Wearin’ My Shoes”) are missing, some lackluster new ones (not entirely by Harold Arlen and Truman Capote) are inserted, and the modest calypso-band arrangements sound like toy whistles next to Ted Royal’s great originals. The musical director, Joe Raposo, plays it so safe that it sounds like he’s warming up for Sesame Street. It’s not the cast’s fault: Yolande Bavan is a charming Ottilie, Thelma Oliver and Hope Clarke are lusty sidekicks, and Novella Nelson gamely grunts out something called “Madame Tango’s Particular Tango.” Replacing Pearl Bailey as Madame Fleur, Josephine Premice is deprived of some of the character’s best material; “Don’t Like Goodbyes,’ which was evidently written for Ottilie and swiped by Bailey, is here restored to its rightful owner. Premice’s unidentifiable accent and inimitable, scratchy singing are ingratiating, but the squirm-inducing moments in this wilted Flowers far outweigh the soul-satisfying ones. If there’s an object lesson in how to ruin a classic score, here it is. — M.M.

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1994 (Boebe) (2 / 5) How much mediocre country music can you take if it’s terrifically well performed? That’s the barometer of how much you’ll enjoy this recording. Robert Nassif-Lindsey (a.k.a, Robert Lindsey Nassif and other variations on his name) wrote a series of old-style country-western songsfor this “mountain musical.” Richard Berg is credited as librettist, with Nassif-Lindsey listed as having provided “additional dialogue,” but the album gives no hint of a plot. As for the songs themselves: “Follow Where the Music Goes” is reasonably catchy; “Baby, I Love Your Biscuits” is sort of fun; and “Easier to Sing Than Say” is kind of pretty. The cast of actors-singers-musicians includes a few stage notables in Sean McCourt, Erin Hill, and Matthew Bennett, alongside Rick Leon, Kevin Fox, and musical director-arranger-performer Steve Steiner. Rich Blacker and Andy Taylor are heard in a few tracks as extra instrumentalists, with Nassif-Lindsey occasionally popping up on piano a few times. The score of Honky-Tonk Highway sounds very different from the composer-lyricist’s work on two other musicals, 3hree and Opal, so this recording is certainly a testament to his range. — Seth Christenfeld

Original Broadway Cast, 1947 (RCA/Sepia) (3 / 5) The 24-minute cast album of High Button Shoes contains only eight of the score’s 14 songs; that’s all that could fit on both sides of four 78-rpm records. Two of the show’s numbers became very popular: the soft-shoe “I Still Get Jealous” and the polka “Papa, Won’t You Dance With Me,” both duets for Nanette Fabray and the now-forgotten Jack McCauley. But these songs have pretty much faded from memory. They and the score as a whole, with music by Jule Styne (his first Broadway hit) and lyrics by Sammy Cahn (his only Broadway hit), are as old-fashioned as the show’s title. The secondary lovers get two very arch love ballads, and McCauley sings lead in a nice, swirling waltz. The other three songs feature Phil Silvers. He plays (what else?) a lovable con man who’s fixing a football game in “Nobody Died for Dear Old Rutgers,” giving a family a new car (because he traded them out of their valuable land) in “There’s Nothing Like a Model T,” and extolling the charms of the beach (because he’s managed to escape the law) in “On a Sunday by the Sea.” That beach is the setting for the still-talked-about, much-praised “Mack Sennett Ballet” choreographed by Jerome Robbins. Alas, the music for it is not on this disc, but that’s what the cast album of Jerome Robbins’ Broadway is for. (Note: RCA’s CD transfer of High Button Shoes was only briefly available and is long out of print, but all of the tracks from the album are now available on a single Sepia CD, paired with the original cast recording of Seventeen.) — Peter Filichia

Original Scarborough Cast, 1998 (Dress Circle) (3 / 5) Welcome to the duck yard, “Where life is nice and steady / Till we’re plucked and oven-ready” and where Ida, a young mom, hatches an egg containing a distinctly odd duck. He is, in fact, the Ugly Duckling. Welcome also to the English songwriting team of George Stiles (music) and Anthony Drewe (lyrics), whose charming adaptation of the Hans Christian Andersen tale was one of the most interesting British musical theater pieces in years. (The show caused a stir in 2000, when it took the Olivier Award for Best Musical over The Lion King.) Honk! follows the Ugly Duckling as he grows up scorned, wanders away, is menaced by a cat, meets a lovely swan, and undergoes various adventures before reuniting with his loved ones. The songs radiate optimism and humor; they’re clever and sophisticated without being showy. There’s also real feeling in such numbers as “Hold Your Head Up High” and “Every Tear a Mother Cries.” Other highlights include “Look at Him,” about the perils of being different, and “You Can Play With Your Food,” sung by that evil cat. The main problem here is length: There are too many songs for this slender tale to bear. The cast, from the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough, England (run by playwright Alan Ayckbourn), is appealing, especially Richard Dempsey as the Ugly Duckling and Kristin Marks as Ida. But the real stars here are Stiles and Drewe. — David Barbour

Music Theatre of Wichita Cast, 2001 (MTW) (3 / 5) In this debut American production, some of the distinctively English humor of Honk! is lost, but John Cameron’s expanded orchestrations are even more enjoyable. A solid cast puts over the material with brio: Arthur W. Marks provides touching vocals as the Ugly Duckling; Susan Hofflander is a lovely Ida; Josh Prince has a campy sneer as the Cat; and La Quin Groves, as a bullfrog, has a field day with “Warts and All,” an anthem to self-love that comes complete with children’s chorus. Some of the more whimsical numbers play better on this recording, especially “The Wild Goose Chase,” which spoofs airline-travel cliches as a flock of geese prepare for takeoff. Marks also offers a heartfelt rendition of “Now I’ve Seen You,” the Ugly Duckling’s declaration of love to a fetching female swan. It’s still an overlong and perhaps over-sophisticated children’s musical, but Honk! should be embraced by family audiences everywhere, and this cast album contains many moments of fun for all to enjoy.  — D.B.

Film Soundtrack, 1955 (MGM/TCM) (3 / 5) Hubert Osborne’s Shore Leave, a dull sailors-in-port comedy from 1924, was incessantly reincarnated: as a silent movie, a Broadway musical that was filmed twice, and another movie musical with a different score. The 1936 film was the Astaire-Rogers gem Follow the Fleet, for which Irving Berlin wrote great songs; but Vincent Youmans’ stage show Hit the Deck! came first (1927). With songs like “Hallelujah!” and “Sometimes I’m Happy” (lyrics by Clifford Grey and Leo Robin), this show doesn’t deserve complete extinction, but in the realm of sailor musicals, it ain’t On the Town. MGM’s 1955 film version is plodding — yet the Youmans score, with others of his standards tossed in, sounds fine here as performed by a large cast full of musical pros. Perhaps it was because of CinemaScope that the script was padded with three couples, all of whom get a crack at the songs:  they are played by Jane Powell and Vic Damone, Tony Martin and Ann Miller, Debbie Reynolds and Russ Tamblyn (dubbed by Rex Dennis). Also on hand is the enormous-voiced Kay Armen. Damone and Martin were singers, not actors, so there is more vocal tone than theater in their performances — though it’s certainly gorgeous tone. But there sure is plenty of theatricality in Ann Miller’s “Lady From the Bayou.” Miller also has fun with “Keepin’ Myself for You,” written by Youmans for the first (1930) film version of Hit the Deck! Powell and Reynolds are no slouches either, and the ear-popping early stereo soundtrack is given a fine TCM presentation on CD.  — Richard Barrios

Original Broadway Cast, 1964 (ABC-Paramount/MCA) (3 / 5) Noël Coward’s martini-dry farce Blithe Spirit was turned into a brassy, uptempo musical by songwriters-librettists Hugh Marrin and Timothy Gray. If the result is a bit disconcerting, it’s still a droll entertainment. (Coward himself directed.) Edward Woodward is Charles Condomine, whose experiments with spiritualism accidentally conjure the spirit of his first wife, Elvira (Tammy Grimes), much to the horror of his current spouse, Ruth (Louise Troy). Along for the ride is Beatrice Lillie as the bizarre medium Madame Arcati. The songs are generally very aggressive — Harry Zimmerman’s orchestrations are hell-bent on turning this piece of fluff into a blockbuster — yet they’re also witty and melodic. Grimes gets the choice material, including the lighthearted warning “You’d Better Love Me,” the introspective”Something Tells Me,” and the wacky jet-set spoof “Faster Than Sound.” She absolutely sizzles when describing her social life on the astral plane in “Home Sweet Heaven” (“Delilah’s dreary / But Samson’s handsome / And with his good looks / Robin Hood looks fit for ransom”). Some fans of Lillie claim that you had to see her perform to get her, but she’s fun in her recordings of “Go Into Your Trance” and “Something Is Coming to Tea,” and especially when singing sweet nothings to her Ouija board in “Talking to You.” In less flamboyant roles, Woodward and Troy are models of urbanity.  — David Barbour

Original London Cast, 1964 (Pye/DRG) (3 / 5) Coward tried again, this time without Lillie, and what was a nervous hit in New York was a flat-out flop in London. The cast album isn’t bad, but it lacks the exciting personalities of the New York original. Tammy Grimes, with her smoky voice and singular delivery, is much missed. Her replacement, Marti Stevens, does not for a moment suggest the eccentric, ectoplasmic Elvira. Cicely Courtneidge is fun as Madame Arcati, and Dennis Quilley is a really first-rate Charles,  but Jan Waters as Ruth lacks Louise Troy’s apt, world-weary manner. Still, the recording is worthwhile for several reasons: “Home Sweet Heaven” has some new, even more riotous lyrics (“The King of Prussia / I call him Freddy / Is living by mistake / With Mary Baker Eddy”), and a set of bonus tracks features Coward himself singing “Something Tells Me,” the ballads “If I Gave You” and “Forever and a Day,” and what may be the definitive version of “Home Sweet Heaven.” — D.B.

Studio Cast, 1993 (Lockett-Palmer) (1 / 5) Ervin Drake’s score for this show doesn’t actually contain terrible songs; it’s just that they’re terrible for an adaptation of George Bernard Shaw’s Caesar and Cleopatra. The title of the opening number, “What Are We Doing in Egypt?”, might well prompt us to ask: What are these songs doing in Egypt? That mismatch is probably why a quarter-century had to pass before someone made a full-fledged recording of this 1968 flop. As Caesar, Richard Kiley sings of being in “The Dangerous Age,” where he’s smitten with the sex-kitten Cleopatra, played by Leslie Uggams. Her songs include “I Cannot Make Him Jealous (I Have Tried),” with its frustrating stop-and-start melody; “Many Young Men From Now,” which sounds like a running-up-and-down-the scale vocal exercise; and, most atrociously, “The Wrong Man’s the Right Man for Me,” which calls to mind a snazzy nightclub song. Similarly, the title song is far too Jerry Hermanish for the period — not to mention that a Shaw-inspired musical should have opted for a more elegant title. Just when the listener is convinced that things could not possibly get worse, out comes the most awful item of all: “I Fell in With Evil Companions,” an anachronistic rouser that Caesar and his soldiers sing for no apparent reason. It was dropped during the Boston tryout, but it’s included here for better or worse — with an emphasis on the latter. — Peter Filichia

Original Broadway Cast, 1963 (Columbia/Sony) (2 / 5) Here is an industrial-strength musical version of the Christmas movie classic Miracle on 34th Street. Directed by its producer, Stuart Ostrow, after Norman Jewison departed during the tryout, Here’s Love was Meredith Willson’s third Broadway effort, following The Music Man and The Unsinkable Molly Brown. It was helped along to a 334-performance run by a fine cast, a healthy advance sale, and a sumptuous production that featured choreographer Michael Kidd’s re-creation of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The album magnifies the show’s major flaw: its middling score, which will likely remind the listener of better songs from previous musicals by Willson, who wrote this show’s book, music, and lyrics. Things start off promisingly enough with “The Big Clown Balloons.” There’s also a perky title song that’s determined to blast its way into every theatergoer’s heart. But then Willson resorts to interpolating his old hit “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” a Yuletide chestnut and the most memorable tune on the album. Otherwise, the score consists of generic songs that could work just as well in Act I or Act II, or even be dropped into any other so-so musical. But, uninspired as the score is, at least it’s well presented here in bright orchestrations by Don Walker and dance-music arrangements by Peter Howard. Janis Paige brings considerable warmth and zest to such material as the reprise of a mediocre song titled  “Look, Little Girl.” Her pitch-approximate intonation and frequent switching of vocal registers in “My State” make for a highly individual sound, but her charisma is irresistible throughout the recording. Craig Stevens and the men gamely work to put over “She Hadda Go Back,” salvaged from what must have been the bottom drawer of Willson’s trunk. Laurence Naismith and Valerie Lee also give appealing vocal performances. — Morgan Sills

Original Broadway Cast, 1967 (ABC-ParamountlVarèse Sarabande) (2 / 5) Nora Johnson’s novel The World of Henry Orient and the subsequent film version that she wrote with her father, Nunnally, were marvelous stories of two girls enjoying and anguishing over their adolescence, but the stage musical based on the same source material was a big disappointment. That’s mostly because of Bob Merrill’s score, his first misfire after several good outings. Val (Robin Wilson) and Gil (Neva Small) have a schoolgirl crush on avant-garde pianist Henry Orient (Don Ameche), who is — to his credit! — more interested in women his own age. The ballad “In Some Little World” is melodious, and “Here I Am” is rather pretty. “I Wonder How It Is (to Dance With a Boy)” is a nice waltz that makes you hunger to see what choreographer Michael Bennett must have done with it. All this sweetness is interrupted by a Nazi-like anthem sung by Alice Playten: “Nobody Steps on Kafritz,” in which Val and Gil’s nemesis makes her position known. Eddie Sauter’s orchestrations try hard to lend some excitement to the score, but by the time you reach “Weary Near to Dyin’,” a condescending comment on hippie life, you may be shaking your head in sympathy with the song’s title. And there are still five tracks to go. — Peter Filichia