ajhlovestheatre

MAYBE HAPPY ENDING 

Music by Will Aronson

Lyrics by Hue Park 

Book by Will Aronson and Hue Park

directed by Michael Arden

Belasco Theatre, New York City – open ended run

https://www.maybehappyending.com

Here’s something refreshing and rare: a truly original musical. Not just because it isn’t based on a film or novel, nor a pre-existing collection of songs à la & Juliet or Mamma Mia!, the uniqueness of Maybe Happy Ending is due to its subject matter (it’s a sort-of romance between robots on the verge of obsolescence), setting (a futuristic Seoul, South Korea) and staging (Tony winning director Michael Arden makes it flow like a technicolour film). This isn’t like anything on Broadway (or the West End for that matter) currently or within living memory. It’s also utterly delightful.

Will Aronson and Hue Park’s musical was an award-winning success in Seoul in 2016 then received its English language premiere at Atlanta’s Alliance Theatre just before the pandemic, and now arrives on Broadway in an entrancing, visually astonishing production. Employing a gliding cinematic fluidity matched with the immediacy and humour unique to live theatre, and fusing state-of-the-art technology with a winning, heartfelt humanity, director Arden has crafted a staging that whisks us off to an alternate world that has relatable, ultimately very moving connections to our own. The story may be ostensibly about robots but they’re essentially a prism through which are refracted universal human truths about love, lifespan and connection.

Darren Criss plays Helperbot Oliver, retired from work as a sort of electronic manservant living out the rest of his existence (at least until he no longer functions) in a tiny flat with only his pet plant named HwaBoon and the jazz recordings so beloved of James, his former master, for company. A particularly touching aspect is that Oliver firmly believes James will come and collect him, even though it’s abundantly clear to us that this will never happen. Criss, with his shellacked hair, too-perfect make-up and slightly jerky movements, brilliantly conjures up a perky human-adjacent creation with a perennially sunny outlook but a hilarious sideline at aggrievance. 

That aggrievance comes to the fore when the Helperbot from next door comes a-knocking asking to borrow his charger (to recharge herself, to be clear) and Oliver balks at her unearned superiority. Helen J Shen’s adorable Claire is a later edition bot which means she’s more human-like (the subtleties between the two leads are exquisitely rendered) with a more highly developed sense of irony, humour and perception. Her battery’s running low though, and with no option for replacement as her model of bot is being discontinued, her obsolescence is likely to arrive sooner than that of the less technically sophisticated Oliver. It’s remarkable how quickly you come to care deeply about the fate of these engaging beings (the chemistry and charm of Criss and Shen helps enormously of course), their relationship and ultimate fate serving as a metaphor for human life, yet it never feels belaboured. 

Seizing the moment, this cute, strange couple set out on a road trip to locate James, with a stop-off to observe the fireflies that so fascinate Claire, who sees in their little self-generating-light-filled bodies a tinier version of herself and Oliver. Cue one of the most heartstoppingly beautiful sequences you’ll ever see in a theatre, encompassing the Belasco’s entire auditorium and Deborah Abramson’s nine-strong band on a swirling, revolving stage, all rapturously ablaze with multiple miniscule illuminations. The tart humour in Aronson and Hue’s book and the idiosyncracies in their unique characters ensure that, despite the overall kookiness, the show never descends to the saccharine; in fact, it’s truly magical.

It does however have a number of false endings – not all happy – which might become enervating if you’re not fully immersed in the show’s outlandish premise. Still, the lyrics are pithy and bright, and the music has a pop sensibility but also a shimmering loveliness that at times recalls Sondheim’s elliptical brilliance in Sunday In The Park With George. 

Visually, it gleams and stuns, candy-coloured set pieces juxtaposed with luscious visions of night (scenic design is by Dane Laffrey, lighting by Ben Stanton, video design by George Reeve, surely all frontrunners come Tony time), with an exhilarating sense of wonder at the sleek, multi-layered showmanship that occurs when everybody involved in a project is singing from the same hymn sheet. The only drawback with the elaborate visuals, where platforms rise and fall, and walls constantly shif to reveal new locations, is that you need to be sitting pretty centrally to fully appreciate it. Peter Hylenski’s sound is its own delight, allowing the two characters to go straight from ‘normal’ speech to imitating the random noises (a ringing phone, for example) or other voices (such as Dez Duron’s smooth lounge singer) that Oliver and Claire randomly hear and are able to recreate at will.

Maybe Happy Ending is a glistening gem of a show, as quietly profound as it’s technically impressive. Criss and Shen will make your heart soar with joy, before gently breaking it. No ‘maybe’ about it, this is entrancing, life-enhancing and unforgettable stuff.