Original Broadway Cast, 1997 (Sony) 
(2 / 5) Based on the lives of Daisy and Violet Hilton, twins who were born joined at the hip and who had minor show business careers that exploited their oddity, Side Show was one of the most overwrought musicals of its era. On Broadway, the exciting staging by Robert Longbottom distracted from all the heavy emoting; here, you have to deal head-on with the exhausting score by Henry Krieger (music) and Bill Russell (lyrics). The book, by Russell, follows the sisters as they fall in love with a pair of promoters, achieve mainstream celebrity, then realize that they will never find happiness in marriage. It’s a touching story undermined by hysterical dramatics and weepy ballads that harp on the loneliness of carnival freaks. Krieger’s score is melodic, but every number is pitched at finale level, and Russell’s lyrics consistently skirt the ridiculous. The acid test is the number “Tunnel of Love,” in which the twins take a spin on the anonymous amusement park ride along with their boyfriends, hopeful of having sex in the dark. Alice Ripley and Emily Skinner are excellent as Violet and Daisy, screaming their heads off as the score demands. Jeff McCarthy and Hugh Panaro are okay as their men, Norm Lewis offers powerful vocals as a factotum who loves Violet, and Ken Jennings strikes sinister notes as the creepy sideshow boss. — David Barbour
Broadway Cast, 2014 (Broadway Records) (2 / 5) This revisal of Side Show offered a substantial revision of the score, with frequently superb music by Henry Krieger and frequently awkward lyrics by Bill Russell. Despite the all-around sharp performances, the revisions largely take this daring, troubled show in the wrong direction. While the original version and its cast album embrace just enough over-the-top poperetta campiness to make the premise palatable, the revisal’s grim seriousness leaves much of the new material sounding silly rather than self-aware. This is most painfully rendered in an extended flashback sequence during which doctors attempt to sever the sisters from each other and Houdini teaches them mindfulness. As Daisy and Violet, Emily Padgett and Erin Davie are worthy successors to Emily Skinner and Alice Ripley, with an even eerier vocal blend when they sing in unison, although they smooth out the ’90s pop edges that the original pair brought to these songs. David St. Louis sings with compelling warmth as Jake, but Ryan Silverman doesn’t quite match the tortured baritenor climaxes of Jeff McCarthy’s original performance as the slick Terry. Harold Wheeler’s sublime orchestrations — the original cast album’s strongest suit — sound more muted here in somewhat reduced form, and the replacement of three bad-taste vaudeville pastiche numbers with three interchangeable numbers feels like cosmetic surgery on a show whose central problem is bone-deep. — Dan Rubins