Shrek the Musical

OGRE AND OUT James, left, and Breaker get moony.

Photograph: Joan Marcus

Where would the Broadway musical be without singing green monsters? The latest such star to be minted is Shrek: the grouchy, stinky, nasty-looking ogre introduced by cartoonist William Steig and made famous in a series of DreamWorks animated films. Now the movie studio has ventured onto Broadway with the snarky-sweet Shrek the Musical. There’s a lot to enjoy in this lavish production, the best musical for younger audiences since The Lion King. So much of the show is good, in fact, that you can’t help wishing it were just a bit better.

Brian d’Arcy James plays Shrek, doing yeoman’s work under a bulk of latex—which, as always, impedes sensitivity a little. The talented Daniel Breaker is his eager best friend, a supersassy donkey with a cocked hip and noticeably limp front hooves. (Perhaps he learned to talk at a Harlem voguing contest.) First, Shrek must drag his gay ass to rescue the imprisoned Princess Fiona, portrayed to perfection by the delightfully spunky Sutton Foster; then he must save her—and a host of fairy-tale rejects—from the undersize, naughtily named Lord Farquaad (Christopher Sieber, gleefully stealing every scene out from over himself).

David Lindsay-Abaire’s consistently clever lyrics are complemented by Jeanine Tesori’s fresh pop music, and Tim Hatley’s storybook set and costumes look spectacular. But as Shrek says of Lord Farquaad’s castle: “It’s a bit much, isn’t it? Do you think he might be compensating for something?” Although director Jason Moore coordinates the action capably, he has trouble building momentum; Shrek often seems like a supporting character, and the emotional core of the show takes a long time to emerge. Happily, this problem is not fatal. As a lightly fractured fairy tale, Shrek is solid fun. It’s not a dream, but it works.