Original Broadway Cast, 1977 (Columbia/Sony) (3 / 5) Ironically, Charles Strouse’s biggest hit is one of his less interesting efforts. Thomas Meehan’s book capably adapts the adventures of comic-strip icon Little Orphan Annie to the stage, focusing on how she got together with billionaire Daddy Warbucks. The music by Strouse and lyrics by Martin Charnin (who also directed) sometimes have a slightly by-the-numbers quality; still, it’s a landmark show, boasting the preternatural belting of 13-year-old Andrea McArdle as Annie and the hilarious Dorothy Loudon as the vengeful, alcoholic orphanage keeper, Miss Hannigan. Loudon’s rendition of “Little Girls” (“Some day I’ll step on their freckles / Some night I’ll straighten their curls!”) is a classic. Reid Shelton and Sandy Faison are pleasant as Daddy Warbucks and his assistant, Grace, while Robert Fitch is amusingly sleazy as Rooster, Miss Hannigan’s ex-con brother. The bouncy production number “NYC” features the late Laurie Beechman, whose astonishing belt made her a legend among Broadway musical aficionados. Generally, the more sophisticated numbers are the best. They include “We’d Like to Thank You, Herbert Hoover,” sung by a gang of sardonic Depression-era bums; “Easy Street,” in which Miss Hannigan and cohorts scheme to defraud Daddy Warbucks; and “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile,” a charming parody sung by a radio crooner, then reprised by Annie’s orphan friends. There are many uninspired items, too, especially “Something Was Missing,” “You Won’t Be an Orphan for Long,” and “I Don’t Need Anything but You,” all of which suffer from plodding melodies and obvious lyrics. But Philip J. Lang’s orchestrations give every number extra sparkle, and if you can still listen to “Tomorrow” without wanting to blow your brains out, McArdle’s rendition is tops. The latest CD reissue features cuts from an early backers’ audition with Charnin and Strouse performing seven numbers written for the show, of which only “Tomorrow” survived. The others are lame and, in one case, appalling; even Charnin admits in the CD booklet notes that they were on the wrong track. — David Barbour

Film Soundtrack, 1982 (Columbia/Sony) 0 stars; not recommended. For those of you who never miss a John Huston musical, this disaster is a must. Everyone else should stay away. In the time-honored tradition of hack Hollywood adaptations, several numbers from the show score were dropped for the film (including “We’d Like to Thank You, Herbert Hoover”). Even the weakest item from the original is better than the mediocre new entries, which include “Sandy,” a love song for Annie to her favorite dog, and “Let’s Go to the Movies,” a contrivance to get Annie, Daddy Warbucks, and Grace Farrell to Radio City Music Hall. Carol Burnett is an amusingly glum Miss Hannigan, but Albert Finney is a dull Warbucks. Tim Curry and Bernadette Peters are wasted as Rooster and Lily, and Ann Reinking is miscast as Grace. Although Aileen Quinn is perfectly fine in the title role, even hard-core Annie fans will be bemused by this lackluster disc. — D.B.

London Studio Cast, 1998 (TER/JAY) (3 / 5) Since the original Broadway cast recording of Annie has never been out of print, a studio cast album hardly seemed necessary. Still, this accomplished edition offers a slightly expanded version of the score, including reprises of “Little Girls” and “Easy Street.” The cast includes Ruthie Henshall as an excellent Grace and Ron Raines as a stentorian Daddy Warbucks. Kim Criswell channels the spirit of Dorothy Loudon as Miss Hannigan, and Sarah French is an acceptable Annie. Overall, the recording suffers from slow tempi and a lack of personality. — D.B.

Television Film Soundtrack, 1999 (Sony) (3 / 5) “We’d Like to Thank You, Herbert Hoover” is once again missing in action, along with a couple of lesser numbers, but what’s left is beautifully served by an all-star cast in this Disney television adaptation. Alicia Morton is the best Annie since Andrea McArdle, and is well matched by Victor Garber’s warmer-than-usual Daddy Warbucks. As Grace, Rooster, and Lily (respectively), Audra McDonald, Alan Cumming, and Kristin Chenoweth are almost laughably overqualified, and they all deliver commensurately. Kathy Bates is a blunt, funny Miss Hannigan with a surprisingly effective singing voice. As a bonus, Andrea McArdle appears in “NYC,” taking Laurie Beechman’s original role. In what may be a Hollywood first, Martin Erskine’s ebullient orchestrations rival and, in some cases, surpass Philip J. Lang’s Broadway originals. — D.B.

Original Broadway Cast, 1955 (Decca) 0 Stars; not recommended.This is a four-alarm disgrace, even worse than its title implies. A tip-off is the description of the Guy Bolton-Eddie Davis libretto and the Sammy Fain-Dan Shapiro score on the back cover: “Things happen so fast in Ankles Aweigh — plot, music, and lyrics are so rapidly paced and so tightly integrated — that a synopsis is difficult.” As for score: it’s dull for the first four cuts, then turns really bad with “Headin’ for the Bottom Blues” and “Here’s to Dear Old Us.” If you can make it past these losers, you’ll groan through “La Festa,” a terrible tarantella, followed by the pseudo-exciting casino number “Ready Cash.” Then comes “Nothing Can Replace a Man,” which insists that “Throughout the world of science, no one’s found a new appliance that ever can replace a man.” (Oh, really? Check out any “adult entertainment” store.) “Honeymoon” is possibly the first show tune to encourage premarital sex, but that’s not to say that this musical was ahead of its time. It was way behind it. — Peter Filichia

Original Off-Broadway Cast, 1991 (RCA) (4 / 5) The songs of John Kander and Fred Ebb, never lacking in entertainment value or theatricality, were a natural for the revue showcaseformat. This is a sparkling recording of a show for which the creative team — director Scott Ellis, choreographer Susan Stroman, “conceiver” David Thompson, and musical director and arranger David Loud — mined nearly every possibility from the team’s catalog. There are traditional renditions of familiar material (“My Coloring Book”), radical new interpretations of standards (the theme from New York, New York is sung in multiple languages as an international tribute to The City That Doesn’t Sleep), and interesting combinations of unrelated numbers (“I Don’t Remember You,” from The Happy Time, and “Sometimes a Day Goes By,” from Woman of the Year). Only a few of the album’s 18 tracks fall flat, most notably an arrangement of the title song from Cabaret, which has some almost scatted lyrics and a synthetic smoothness that make it sound like a parody of a modern-day cabaret standard. It’s no surprise that almost all of the powerhouse performers (Robert Cuccioli, Karen Mason, Brenda Pressley, Jim Walton, and Karen Ziemba) and the creative team went on to bigger things in bigger shows; the musical, dramatic, and comedic colors they find in this material help Kander and Ebb’s songs seem as vibrant and relevant as ever. — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 2003 (Ghostlight) (4 / 5) The English version of Michel Legrand’s French smash hit Le passe-muraille, based on Marcel Ayme’s short story about a man who gains the ability to walk through walls, lasted all of 17 performances on Broadway, but the cast recording proves that the length of a show’s run is not necessarily a good indication of its quality. Legrand’s songs — nearly 30 of them — linger in the ear and heart, revealing his gift for bouncy melody, his talent for setting soaring emotions to music, and his fine sense of humor. The lyrics, adapted by Jeremy Sams from Didier van Cauwelaerr’s French originals, are not quite the equal of the music but do have their share of clever rhymes and evocative imagery. All of this is put over by a top-notch cast led by Malcolm Gets and the incandescent Melissa Errico, with her shimmering soprano. The supporting performers — Lewis Cleale, John Cunningham, Christopher Fitzgerald, Norm Lewis, Sarah Litzsinger, Nora Mae Lyng, and Bill Nolte — are dynamic in voice and character, the epitome of a tight Broadway ensemble. Their work and that of musicai director Todd Ellison, together with Legrand’s modest yet ideal orchestrations, keep the energy level high and the atmosphere magical from beginning to end. Clocking in at about an hour and 15 minutes, the recording omits some musical material but includes a bonus track of Legrand accompanying himself as he sings one of the show’s songs. Even on audio disc, Amour is an enchanting, romantic fairy tale for adults.  — Matthew Murray

Original Broadway Cast, 1962 (Columbia/Sony) (3 / 5) How many Joshua Logan flops can a person do in one year? Anita Gillette managed two in 1962, soubretting through Mr. President and this provincial-college satire-with a book by Mel Brooks, no less. (That sure sounds like Brooks in the opening number as recorded for this cast album, exclaiming “Look at him, the Lone Ranger!”) Columbia gave both shows the deluxe treatment, but this score, by Charles Strouse and Lee Adams, is by far the more felicitous. Robert Ginzler’s orchestrations are among the best Broadway has ever heard; listen to the brass well up halfway through “If I Were You,” and try not to smile. Star Ray Bolger is a little short on vocal equipment — and, more surprisingly, on star quality. But his vis-a-vis, Eileen Herlie, is wonderful, particularly when helping Bolger introduce “Once Upon a Time.” Sturdy-voiced juvenile Ron Husmann gets an even better ballad, “I’ve Just Seen Her,” and Gillette smolders through “Night Life.” A few of the other songs are by the numbers — the patriotic salute, the football rally fight song — but some quirkiness seeps through. Fritz Weaver, as a Madison Avenue sharpie, even gets a merciless send-up of “Climb Ev’ry Mountain.” Pretty gutsy in 1962.  — Marc Miller

Original Broadway Cast, 1947 (RCA) (3 / 5)
This recording presents only a small fraction of the score of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s third collaboration, a show that was both directed and choreographed by Agnes de Mille. The LP and CD editions were drawn from five 78-rpm records made shortly after the show’s 1947 premiere, so there’s less than 34 minutes’ worth of music here, with six songs and two dances excluded entirely. Granted, we’re not talking about a score that’s up to the level achieved by the masters in their previous two shows, Oklahoma! and Carousel. Still, this is accomplished work, even if the recording sounds antique. The story takes Joseph Taylor, Jr. from birth to middle age, so we witness the lad’s first steps (“One Foot, Other Foot”) and early courtship (the now sexist-sounding “A Fellow Needs a Girl” and the pulsating “You Are Never Away”). “Money Isn’t Everything” is a nifty waltz, and “The Gentleman Is a Dope” a stirring complaint, each displaying Oscar Hammerstein in a rare cynical mood. Richard Rodgers’ biggest missteps occur at the end of each act. First comes a wedding ceremony wherein the composer sets the famous vow “to have and to hold from this day forward” to a solemn melody instead of a joyous one that just might have become a standard at real-life nuptials. Similarly, at the end of the show, the music for “Come Home” (a command that Joe obeys) is so dreary that it seems to mark a defeat for the hero. The title song of the musical defines the term “allegro” as “brisk, lively, merry, and bright,” but those two numbers certainly don’t fit that description. — Peter Filichia

Studio Cast, 2009 (Sony Masterworks Broadway) (5 / 5)  At last, after decades of waiting, the powers-that-be got on the ball and gave us a stem-to-stern Allegro so glorious that even R&H haters have to be impressed. The recording is almost three times more generous than the original, 100 heavenly minutes and 15 lovely seconds spanning two discs. And perhaps this should be described as a work by Rodgers and Hammerstein and Rittman, for the illustrious dance music arranger Trude Rittman offers 20-plus minutes of her brilliant work here.  Disc One promises quite a show right from the overture. You’ll hear a bit of a song you hadn’t heard on the original cast album, “A Darn Fine Campus, ” and that’s just the first hint of all the additional material: There’s more from the chorus on Joe’s birth and his time as an infant, a dance representing what Joe and his classmates did in nursery school, and a less joyous sequence after his beloved grandmother dies.  Collegiate Joe does seem to be happy to be in “A Darn Nice Campus” –- until he comes to the conclusion that he’s homesick. (“Poor Joe,” sings the chorus.) When Joe marries Jennie, we hear more of the wedding and his best friend Charlie’s feelings that he’d prefer to stay single.  Disc Two starts with an Entr’acte that reminds us of four pleasant songs we’ve already heard. There’s also the mindless-chatter song “Yatata,” which at least one etymologist has insisted was the precursor of today’s “Yada, yada, yada.” And the title song is augmented with much more music, as is the finale.  There are terrific performances from Patrick Wilson as Joseph Taylor, Jr.; Laura Benanti as the base-metal Jennie, who sounds as if she has enough acid in her veins to fill the batteries in a fleet of automobiles; Norbert Leo Butz as Joe’s best friend; Audra McDonald as Joe’s mom; and Maureen Brennan, Danny Burstein, Liz Callaway, and Judy Kuhn in other roles. Add to that Stephen Sondheim in a brief appearance during the finale.  (Yes, that Stephen Sondheim. He was, after all, there at 17 with the original production where, as he writes in the liner notes for this recording, he “typed scripts, got coffee, listened to Agnes de Mille maltreat singers, and watched this quite remarkable show come to life. I think I might not be so attracted to experimental musicals if I hadn’t wet my feet with Allegro.” ) While the original orchestra had 35 pieces, here esteemed conductor Larry Blank leads no fewer than 50, with nary a synthesizer among them.  Listening to the 1947 recording and then this one demonstrates how cast recordings have come — to quote one of Oscar Hammerstein’s lyrics from this show — so far. — P.F.

Original Broadway Cast, 1978 (RCA, 2CDs) (4 / 5) Manhattan Theatre Club presented Ain’t Misbehavin’ to rave reviews before its hugely successful transfer to Broadway. What this show had that other composer songbook revues have lacked was tremendous theatricality, sparkling personality, and a cast of then-unknowns that rocked the theater: Nell Carter, Armelia McQueen, Ken Page, Andre De Shields, and Charlaine Woodard. These were not the pretty-but-bland sort of performers featured in revues that make one think of cruise ships and amusement parks. Under Richard Maltby, Jr.’s adroit direction, and thanks to unsung hero Murray Horowitz’s brilliant concept, this show featured performers of all shapes and sizes — and boy, could they sing, act, and sock Fats Waller’s songs into the rafters, with arranger extraordinaire Luther Henderson traversing the stage on a rolling piano. Ain’t Misbehavin’ was the first and arguably the last great songwriter revue to hit Broadway, and the recording beautifully captures the audio component of what was so very special about the experience.  — Ken Bloom

Studio Cast, 1999 (PolyGram)  (2 / 5) Before the Broadway launch of Aida, composer Elton John recorded this studio set with a host of pop stars, including Sting, Tina Turner, Janet Jackson, Shania Twain, and James Taylor. The songs are out of their show order, and no synopsis is included; yet, oddly, this is a more entertaining disc than the Broadway cast album. That’s because, swathed in elaborate pop arrangements, the songs are advantageously displayed as the middle-of-the-road standards they really are. The stars are well showcased;  The Spice Girls, for example, lend some genuine oomph to “My Strongest Suit.” Elton John himself partners effectively with Heather Headley and Sherie Rene Scott in the trio “A Step Too Far,” and Headley solos on “Elaborate Lives.” Elton and Lulu also perform “The Messenger,” which is not to be found on the Broadway album. The set concludes with a bombastic “Orchestral Finale,” produced by Phil Ramone, that sounds like the perfect background music for an Olympic ice-skating competition.  — David Barbour

Original Broadway Cast, 2000 (Buena Vista) (1 / 5) The show’s a smash hit, so somebody must love it. On disc, however, shorn of spectacle and the leads’ good looks, Aida comes across as an extremely morose collection of Elton John power ballads. Amazingly, it took three writers — Linda Woolverton, Robert Falls (who also directed), and David Henry Hwang — to come up with the libretto, adapted from the classic opera. In their version, it’s a teen triangle with vague political overtones: Adam Pascal is Radames, captain of the Egyptian army, engaged to the air-headed clotheshorse Princess Amneris (Sherie Rene Scott). After subduing the nation of Nubia, Radames brings back the Princess Aida (Heather Headley), with whom he promptly falls in love. The three of them proceed to scream their heads off for two acts — lamenting cruel fate, etc., etc. There are a couple of catchy pop hooks in “The Gods Love Nubia” and “Written in the Stars,” but Tim Rice’s bone-headed lyrics drag everything down, as in the clunky “Elaborate Lives.” All three leads provide vocal thrills in abundance, especially Headley, whose intensely dramatic singing made her an instant star. Pascal does solid work throughout and Scott manages to keep her dignity even while performing the bizarre “My Strongest Suit,” in which Amneris exposes her extreme dedication to fashion.Still,this is one of the dullest entries in the pop-opera genre. –– D.B.

Original Broadway Cast, 1978 (DRG) (2 / 5) The last word in star vehicles,  The Act centers on Liza Minnelli as “Hollywood’s own Michelle Craig,” performing in Las Vegas. Between the numbers are scenes (by George Furth) from her troubled life. With Liza basically playing herself, singing non-book tunes tailored for her by John Kander and Fred Ebb, this is essentially an album of special material designed to capital­ize on her celebrity as the free-loving, club-hopping “It” Girl of the 1970s. The numbers take in a high-camp, sardonic New York tribute (“City Lights”), an enraged torch song (“The Money Tree”), losers in a Midwestern bar (“Bobo’s”), the joys of sex with hustlers (“Arthur in the Afternoon”), and the corrosive effects of a permissive society (“Hot Enough for You?”). The oh­-so-’70s lyrics include references to TM, EST, waterbeds — and, of course, there’s a ballad titled “My Own Space.” Then there’s “Turning,” a funked-up version of a Shaker hymn. (Those always go over big on the Strip!) Throughout, Ralph Burns’ arrangements have a propulsive energy. Minnelli’s mannerisms are vividly on display; the disc features some of the most unrestrained belting ever heard in a Broadway show. You’ll either love it or run screaming from the room, but its pleasures aren’t really those of a cast album. — David Barbour