ELF The Musical (2024)
Book by Thomas Meehan and Bob Martin
Music by Matthew Sklar
Lyrics by Chad Beguelin
Based on the film, screenplay by David Berenbaum
Directed by Philip W. McKinley
Starring Grey Henson, Kayla Davion, Michael Hayden,
Ashley Brown and Sean Astin as Santa
Marquis Theatre
Official Website
Reviewed by David Spencer
It would be inaccurate hyperbole to call Elf a perfect musical, because if one is being a real stickler, there are choices and details to carp at. But when you take into account that this 2010 adaptation of the 2005 Christmas movie is craftsmanlike, exuberant, savvy and first rate in all departments, you’re more than happy to proclaim it more than the sum of its not-inconsiderable parts and forego quibbling. This is one of that relatively recent phenomenon, the Christmas season book musical that’s meant to be a perennial; but unlike White Christmas (a fairish adaptation of the film) and How the Grinch Stole Christmas (a tediously padded adaptation of the Seuss animated TV special), which lasted two seasons apiece, Elf has proven that it has the high octane rightness to last longer than that, with a 2012 Broadway revival, a 2014 animated iteration for television, consistent stock and amateur appearances since its debut, only two seasons ago an engagement at the Argyle Theatre in Babylon—and now, in 2024, its second revival.
It tells the tale of Buddy (a delightfully, shamelessly credulous Grey Henson), who is shocked to learn that he isn’t the North Pole elf he’s always thought he was (growing to full, human height wasn’t sufficient clue). Santa (Sean Astin, a little befuddled and not a little adorable) finally has to tell the truth—as he knew he someday would—that as an infant, Buddy crawled into Santa’s sack by mistake. But once he’d arrived at the North Pole it didn’t seem quite right to return him, because there was no real family for him: his unwed mother had died in childbirth and his father, never knowing about her pregnancy, had moved on to raise his own family with someone else. And so it is on Buddy’s 30th year, he ventures forth into New York City to unite with his family, publishing exec dad Walter Hobbs (the absurdly driven Michael Hayden), stepmom Emily (Ashley Brown, level-headed yet soft-hearted) and younger stepbrother Michael (the agreeably excitable Kai Edgar). But of course, it isn’t as easy as all that: relationships and even belief in elves and Santa are complex issues south of the Pole. Yet there are compensations for the effort, one of them (of course) being that Buddy finds a girlfriend in the (of course) initially doubtful Jovie, who is new to New York City from L.A. and has never seen snow (big-eyed, big-voiced Kayla Davion). (It is, I think, worth noting, at least sociologically, that this is the first time Jovie has been cast with an African American woman, and both Ms Davion and the musical direction exploit a somewhat more soul-tinged style to use that to full advantage.)
Because Elf is so sturdy and resistant to paraphrase, even a new and newly designed production can seem to a critic at a too-busy time of the season like a remount (even very good regional productions, and I’ve seen a few, hew to a replicant approach) and in my first upload draft of this review I just took for granted that this iteration was helmed by the original director, Casey Nicholaw…but my mistake: The able captain at the tiller this time is Philip W, McKinley, replicating his recent London/West End staging. But as that might suggest even this production seems to have been (literally) built for annual limited engagements and to tour, having the look and mechanics of a production that can be dismantled and reassembled in any number of compatible-sized theatres; which is in part to say an old-fashioned look; but spiffy as a box whose giftwrap has reflective, green dazzle. Elf utilizes a few contemporary references (updated) and a contemporary sense of pace and compression; but in terms of construction, musical comedy sensibility, the sound of the score (down to the details of Doug Besterman’s giddily joyous orchestrations) and in what the playing style evokes (rather than mimics), it has the heart and soul of a musical from the late 1950s. And in not announcing its nostalgic spirit, but merely and knowingly being what it is, it manages to be an exercise in charm the like of which Broadway hasn’t seen since…well, since the last time Elf was ariound
If there’s a flaw to mention (I’ll allow myself one) it’s that the otherwise sturdy book by Thomas (Annie, The Producers) Meehan and Bob (Drowsy…) Martin is sometimes a little too perfunctory about its transitions, sometimes confusing dispatch for economy; but it is a fine libretto nonetheless and gives songwriters Matthew Sklar (music) and Chad Beguelin (lyrics) the chance to create one of the most traditionally, memorably, old-school literate and tuneful scores to be heard on Broadway in a lotta years. at and since its debut. That the audience eats it up with a spoon the way they don’t at evenings whose scores are less generous of spirit (or simply less accomplished and professional) oughtta be a lesson for someone, somewhere, in this age where the Powers That Be are too often unable to distinguish between adventurous professional writing and absolute renegade crap. Which is not to say that the score for Elf is adventurous or that we should be rebooting the old school at the expense of the new. I mean only that the earmarks of “good” are so apparent that it reveals anything less than that to be a con job in the service of laziness disguised as innovation. So there.
Every member of the cast is sensational, down to the smallest support role, and it’s worth noting that, for the first time on Broadway, the actor playing jolly Santa also doubles in the equally prominent role of Walter (dad’s) boss, sour Mr. Greenway. Santa’s one of those fun-but-not-taxing roles meant to job in a recognizable celebrity; but Greenway requires the full toolkit, including serious musicality and choreographic movement. Sean Astin absolutely earns his keep in this regard, and ought to have more mainstream musical theatre in his future.
Perfect—or near-perfect, I guess—is in the eye of the beholder, and “classic” takes time to be meaningful (to say nothing of its many acquired meanings), but I guess I can say this much with impunity: In an era where the future of musical theatre on Broadway is constantly imperiled, abused and in doubt, Elf, despite its wintertime setting, still shoots forth a solid, warm shaft of hope. Merry Christmas indeed.