Review | SMASH
I saw Smash at the Imperial Theatre during the May 21 matinee, and while the show has made real improvements since I attended the open rehearsal at Hunter College in February 2024, it still leaves me with mixed feelings. The creative team clearly worked to streamline the story and make it stage-ready, and overall it succeeds in standing on its own, even for those who never watched the TV show. But for me, the ending still does not quite work, and the show as a whole never fully reaches the emotional heights it aims for.
As a longtime fan of the television series, I appreciated how the stage version retained the heart of the story. The plot is serviceable and follows the familiar arc, but the pacing feels rushed in places and oddly sluggish in others. The biggest issue is the frequent shift into musical numbers without earning the emotional payoff that usually justifies a song. Scenes often jump from song to a couple lines of dialogue and then right into another song, without building tension or developing character in between. It felt more like checking off boxes than storytelling through music.
Brooks Ashmanskas was easily the highlight of the show. His performance as the director of the show within the show was sharp, hilarious, and filled with the kind of broad physical comedy that actually landed. That said, a lot of his punchlines relied on tired stereotypes, which felt beneath the writing. Robyn Hurder as Ivy gave a commanding performance and delivered vocally, but beyond her and Ashmanskas, the rest of the cast never quite found their spark. Kristine Nielsen brought a welcome energy as Susan Proctor, but her arc also wrapped up far too neatly.
Production-wise, the transitions between the real world and the musical they were staging were handled well. The bar that slid in from both sides was a clever design touch, but most of the set and lighting choices did not leave much of an impression. Choreography was fine but not memorable. Aside from Let Me Be Your Star, none of the music lingered.
The biggest change from the earlier version was the ending. In the open rehearsal, Ivy’s arc mirrored Marilyn Monroe’s to a devastating degree. She overdosed and died, and it was a dark, haunting ending that made a powerful statement about the cost of fame and the danger of losing yourself in a role. During that rehearsal, the audience was asked for feedback, and nearly everyone around me felt the ending was too much. Many suggested she could overdose but survive, offering a chance at growth and redemption. In the current Broadway version, they went even safer. Ivy simply chooses to stop taking pills and reclaims control through sheer willpower. It is cleaner, easier, and honestly, less believable. While I understand the desire for hope, this new ending feels emotionally unearned. It ties everything up in a bow when the story actually called for a messier, more honest conclusion. I left the theater satisfied but still wishing they had kept a little more of the risk.
