When a new show opens, one of our most beloved traditions here at Playbill is to gather around our open-concept section of the office (known as the "edit table") and discuss what we thought of the shows. Many times, not all of us agree (and there's plenty of, "what's wrong with you?" thrown around).
But sometimes, theatre magic happens and we all come to the edit table buzzing with excitement, as we discover the show that all of us love. Below are a list of productions in New York that a majority of Playbill's editorial team absolutely adored. The Playbill staff may not be critics but we do see a lot of shows (everything on Broadway and many Off because we have Drama Desk Award members and Obie judges on our staff). So we hope you take this list, which features many shows still running, as encouragement to put these productions on your own calendar.
Below is the Playbill team's favorite shows of 2024, listed in no particular order.
Gypsy
After reveling in the Roses of Tyne Daly, Betty Buckley, Bernadette Peters, and Patti LuPone, the latter three numerous times, I had reached the point where I thought I never needed to see Gypsy again. And then it was announced that Audra McDonald would be stepping into the shoes of the musical theatre’s best-known stage mother. The history-making McDonald, again making history as the first Black actress to play Rose on Broadway, is never less than thrilling. And George C. Wolfe’s production may be the fastest-moving staging of Gypsy I’ve experienced. From the moment McDonald implores, “Sing out Louise,” the production and the emotion builds and builds until McDonald’s shattering “Rose’s Turn.” Without sacrificing the humor, this is a Gypsy that plays up the desperation of all its characters: Danny Burstein’s lovable Herbie, who is desperate for a family; Jordan Tyson’s exciting, big-voiced June, for success; Joy Woods’ heartbreaking, luminous Louise, for approval; the often-comical vaudeville troupers, for money; and Rose, for all of it, on her own terms, and at any cost.
Six-time Tony winner McDonald, known for her jaw-droppingly rich performances over the past three decades, has never been more powerful. I am always struck by the seemingly endless well of emotions from which she draws, never more so than in the showstoppers that end each act. That aforementioned desperation is palpable in both “Everything’s Coming up Roses” and “Rose’s Turn”; her volcanic performance in the latter builds and builds until the audience is completely covered in her emotional hot lava. A year ago, I thought I would never see Gypsy again. Now I cannot wait to go back. —Andrew Gans, senior news editor
Suffs
I didn't expect to love Suffs as much as I did. I saw it at the Public Theater in 2022 and while I thought it had potential, I also thought it was unwieldy and needed work. So consider me surprised when I sat down at the Music Box Theatre on Broadway—by the time the first big group number, "The March (We Demand Equality)" began, I felt tears in my eyes. Then when the "Keep Marching" finale came around, I was struggling to not sob in my seat and disturb the people around me. Suffs follows the decade-long fight to pass the 19th Amendment. Composer Shaina Taub had truly done the work to sharpen her show and its themes, and write some new compelling songs, while also showcasing the humanity of the diverse coalition of women involved—all this without the show buckling under the weight of all that history. I was so moved by Suffs that I've paid money to come back two more times (including on Election Night). If I had to pinpoint exactly what has made me a rabid Suffs fan, it may be because it's the rare piece (in any medium) that has captured the exhaustion, thanklessness, and generational trauma that comes with being a woman in a patriarchal society. And yet despite subjugation that continues to this day, there is strength to be drawn from our ancestors so that we can continue to keep marching forward. As the days ahead get darker, these words shine like a beacon in my mind: "'Cause your ancestors are all the proof you need. That progress is possible, not guaranteed." Thank you Shaina Taub and the cast and creative team of Suffs for this comfort and wisdom.
Plus, I can't wait until Suffs is released on PBS so I can watch it in a double feature with Heidi Schreck's What the Constitution Means to Me and have a good, cathartic cry. —Diep Tran, editor in chief
Oh, Mary!
No one that works with me here at Playbill is surprised that I chose this show. As a longtime fan of Cole Escola, it’s hard to describe the level of excitement I had when this was originally announced for Off-Broadway. Seeing it and Cole become a massive Off-Broadway and, now, Broadway hit has been so fun to watch as a superfan, particularly because it’s so well deserved. Oh, Mary! is obviously hilarious, but I hope people also notice how sound and good the writing is as a play, separate from just trying to make us laugh. I think that’s a big part of why the show has and will work without Cole starring, even as fabulous as their performance is. But back to the comedy—this play is funny. Like body-hurts-from-laughing funny. Now that I’ve seen it several times, I’m always amazed at the diversity of audience members around me. Gay people, young and old, bridge and tunnel suit types, tourists—I have frequently wondered what some of these groups will think of this show’s wild humor, and I’ve never not seen it win over the entire audience, no matter who they are or what their sensibilities might be. I hope this has propelled Escola to the level of stardom that will mean we get lots more brilliantly stupid Escola content in the years ahead—and it certainly looks like I will get my wish! —Logan Culwell-Block, managing news editor
Hell's Kitchen
If Hell’s Kitchen has a million fans, then I am one of them. If Hell’s Kitchen has only one fan, then that is me. If Hell’s Kitchen had no fans, then that means I am no longer on this earth. If the world was against Hell’s Kitchen, then I am against the world. Listen, I know that sounds dramatic, but if you know me…that’s pretty on-brand.
Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t just a highlight of 2024 for me—it was a vivid, heart-stirring testament to the power of music and storytelling. Leading the company is Maleah Joi Moon, who delivered a star-is-born (and Tony-winning) performance. Moon’s voice is soulful, soaring, and heartbreakingly raw. It captured every nuance of a young artist finding her place in the world. I haven’t heard anything like it on a Broadway stage before and while I hope she continues to work on Broadway, I wouldn’t be surprised if we see her become a major recording artist next soon. There’s also the mother of modern-day Broadway belting and riffing, Queen Shoshana Bean. When you see her name on a cast list, you can always expect the most incredible vocals, but also a masterclass in acting through song. Lastly, Kecia Lewis, the Broadway veteran who also earned a Tony Award for her powerful performance as Miss Liza Jane. If you want to know what excellence looks like…look no further. But Hell’s Kitchen isn’t just a jukebox musical; it’s an examination of identity, ambition, and resilience. Lastly, the show's ability to turn Alicia Keys' well-known hits into memorable and emotional scenes has stuck with me still nine months later. As a proud son of a single mother, the reworking of Keys' hit song “No One” hit home so hard that I was a blubbering mess by the end of the number. A song that is so well-known as this romantic R&B hit, is reframed as a mother and child’s moment of connection signifying their deep, complex bond (despite their struggles)—it is such a beautiful moment in the show. I know this all might sound corny, but I think the production is an amazing love letter to the '90s, R&B music, the women who raised us, and (cue eye roll, dear reader) the greatest city in the world. —Jeffrey Vizcaíno, director of social media
Sunset Blvd
I am not a Sunset Boulevard expert (that would be Andrew Gans, who's seen countless Norma Desmonds). So I came into the Sunset Blvd revival only knowing three songs and having a vague sense of the plot. But when I left, my only thought was, "When can I see this again?" If you see as many shows as I do, it's rare to want to go back to any of them. But to understand my visceral reaction to Sunset Blvd, you have to know this thing about me: I bought an Eden's Crush CD when it first came out. As in, the first girl group that Nicole Scherzinger was in, which she came to via a reality show. So when Scherzinger portrayed Norma Desmond as a star who also twerks, meows, talks with a vocal fry, and has a camera always following her—the subtext was overpowering. Suddenly, I couldn't see where the pop star ended and the silent screen star begins. This Sunset Blvd isn't just a faithful recreation of the 1950 film; director Jamie Lloyd takes that seminal story, combines it with the most inventive use of live camera work I've ever seen on a stage, to make a very pointed commentary about modern celebrity—using a beautiful pop star who has also had to keep reinventing herself in order to stay relevant as she ages. It was meta in the best way, coupled with gorgeous, passionate vocals that left me breathless.
I've also returned to Sunset Blvd to see Mandy Gonzalez perform as Norma Desmond on Tuesday night, and I can confirm that the production loses none of its emotional potency (or vocal power)—Gonzalez's Norma has a more frightening edge to her while Scherzinger's is quiet desperation. Both are timeless portrayals, because Norma Desmond is a woman who is all women. Is it depressing that after half a century, women are still not allowed to age? Yes. And it makes for some truly amazing singing. —Diep Tran, editor in chief
Dead Outlaw
Oh, Dead Outlaw. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. As a musical theatre historian, I have thousands of shows rattling around inside my head at all times. It takes a very, very special show to subsume my focus entirely, consuming my waking thoughts and sleeping dreams as it enlivens the promise of possibility within the art form I hold dear. This year, Dead Outlaw was that show, an amber light peeking over the downtown horizon just as I began to lose faith in the commercial industry's ability to uplift truly weird theatre.
Make no mistake: Dead Outlaw is weird as hell. Recounting the life and death of the failed outlaw Elmer McCurdy, a musical about a traveling mummy isn’t necessarily the first thing that comes to mind when considering the current commercial scope of the American musical. In a sea of jukebox musicals, revivals, and productions produced-by-committee, Dead Outlaw is a gleaming jewel. It has one of the best scores (from David Yazbek and Erik Della Penna) I’ve heard in years, and a book (from Itamar Moses) so tightly written it reinvigorated my passion for language itself. I could wax rhapsodic about this musical for hours, and have to many of my colleagues. It is, at its core, what I wish the American theatre will become at the end of our current metamorphosis: an artistic haven within which true creativity can be embraced, no matter how convoluted the elevator pitch. I cannot wait for Dead Outlaw to transfer to Broadway in April 2025: I plan on moving into the Longacre for the duration. Got any spare coffins? —Margaret Hall, staff writer
Cats: "The Jellicle Ball"
The first, and only, time I ever ripped my pants was during Cats: The Jellicle Ball. The leg of my silk trousers caught my heel as I leapt out of my seat, leaning forward over a railing to wave my finger at the pair of Hello Kitty briefs parading down the runway. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats—a musical long-maligned for its alleged lack of narrative and dense source material (poet T.S. Elliot’s whimsical Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats), done up in drag and thrust into the pageantry of the Ballroom—was an explosion of joy at the Perelman Center. Conceived with reverence for the trailblazing, boots-stomping LGBTQIA+ icons and activists who paved the way for a more beautiful, more tolerant world, The Jellicle Ball was part coronation, part eulogy, all sanctity. Over nearly three hours, I grew hoarse from screaming, cried off all my delicately-applied rhinestones, and gave thanks to my fairy godparents in the Heaviside Layer for a theatrical space as welcoming, forgiving, and life-affirming as that of Cats: The Jellicle Ball.
I think it would be difficult for me to see other productions of Cats. And I really hope that that show could have continued life, or that the people who are in the audience or the artists who work on that show could bring that ethos to future projects. —Dylan Parent, editorial assistant
The Hills of California
A financially struggling single stage mother and her performing daughters… No, this isn’t Gypsy, but Jez Butterworth’s haunting dysfunctional family drama The Hills of California, which recently completed its limited engagement at the Broadhurst Theatre. Set in a rundown hotel in 1976 Blackpool, England, three sisters reunite as their mother is on her deathbed. The three siblings are awaiting the arrival of a fourth sister, who is supposedly returning after decades living in America. Via Rob Howell's impressive rotating set, with its imposing staircases, the play switches back and forth between the unhappiness of the present to the hopeful longing of the girl’s childhood—when their mother spent the majority of her passion and money trying to mold the foursome into a singing group. That dream would not come to fruition.
All of the performances are beautifully layered with various emotions palpable: the sheer misery of Leanne Best’s Gloria, who has spent decades letting resentment fester; the sadness of Helena Wilson’s virginal Jill, who was never able to venture far from home; the sarcasm (masking deeper wounds) of Ophelia Lovibond’s Ruby; and the growing desperation of Laura Donnelly’s Mrs. Webb. In one of the great performances of the season, Donnelly also plays (almost unrecognizably), the older version of Joan; she gives a devastating performance. Though there is a lot of heartache, the play—easily the most moving I’ve seen post-pandemic—is also full of much laughter and beautiful music, both from the multitalented young girls who play the aspiring Webb Sisters, and the adult actors who play their later-in-life selves. I am still haunted by the sounds of their voices, both literal and figurative. —Andrew Gans, senior news editor
Mother Play
There’s not much better than a new Paula Vogel play. This one took it over the top with an all-star cast at the absolute height of their powers—Celia Keenan-Bolger, Jessica Lange, and Jim Parsons—and a director (Tina Landau) that expertly walked the line between raw emotion and hilarious absurdity. It’s actually that dichotomy that I think was what made this play so moving to me. The events of the play present a mother-child relationship, a childhood that is as wacky and hilarious as it is deeply painful—from precarious living situations to homophobia and rejection of a child who’s supposed to be loved unconditionally. But anyone who’s had a tricky relationship with a family member knows that it’s seldom black and white, that there is often deep love and happy memories mixed in with the trauma and pain. For me, Vogel was writing about how it can (or maybe it should) be impossible to completely let go of the good even in the face of very real hurt—and why it can be difficult but strangely liberating to accept as an adult that your parents are human beings, as flawed as any of us. It struck me as radically empathic, even while not excusing or diminishing the pain this particular mother caused. I was a puddle by the end, the kind of theatregoing experience I’ll never forget. —Logan Culwell-Block, managing news editor
Jelly's Last Jam
The New York City Center Encores! production of Jelly’s Last Jam wasn’t just a show…it was an event, a moment, a celebration of artistry. The production breathed new life and reintroduced (and, for some, introduced) the story of Jelly Roll Morton to New York audiences. Its cast and creative team gave every note, step, and scene a pulsating energy that felt both spiritual and fresh. Nicholas Christopher gave the kind of performance that makes you sit up straight in your seat. His presence snatches you by the collar and you never want to look away. His combination of swagger and charm has stuck with me since! Add to that, I can’t in good conscience not highlight the electric magnetism emanating from icon Billy Porter. His take on Chimney Man seemed to pull the entire room into his orbit. His voice seemed to rise from the depths of jazz history, with a presence that danced between menace and delight. Christopher, Porter, and the cast created a production that felt like it was vibrating on its own frequency. The choreography was…for better terms, superhuman. Dormeshia’s tap sequences didn’t just punctuate the music; it told its own stories. Each step felt like a declaration of rhythm and resistance. And let’s talk about the women of the show! Tony winner Joaquina Kalukango once again gave us a performance that was both heartbreaking and exhilarating. And let’s not forget that the original Broadway Hunnies Mamie Duncan-Gibbs, Stephanie Pope Lofgren, and Allison M. Williams reprising their roles and providing a stunning bridge to the past that gave such beautiful grounding to the production and a tribute to its rich history.
But what made this production an absolute stand out for me, among the many shows of 2024, was its soul. Jelly’s Last Jam dared to confront the ghosts of history with an incredibly unapologetic, joyous celebration of Black artistry, excellence, and resilience. It was not only a love letter to the past but a critique of its pain and a redemption of its glory. —Jeffrey Vizcaíno, director of social media
Stereophonic
While Dead Outlaw gave me hope for the future of the American theatre, Stereophonic soothed my nostalgia-loving soul. The child of two '70s folk-rock acolytes, I knew every Fleetwood Mac-inspired beat by heart long before stepping into the production's initial Off-Broadway run in 2023. Thankfully, that familiarity did nothing to dull the sparkle of David Adjmi’s crackling script, which illuminated new shadows while allowing the narrative to spill forth unencumbered. What elevated Adjmi’s play from satisfying to fascinating, however, was the illustrious performances offered by its original cast. Be it Will Brill’s riotous ascent from the depths of addiction, Sarah Pidgeon’s delicate ferocity as she escaped a controlling relationship, or Chris Stack’s deeply underrated performance as the bands drummer-turned-manager who does everything he could to keep his found family from slipping through his fingers, the sense of connection delivered by that original cast is unmatched. There is magic when a theatre of thousands collectively holds its breath to watch the unravelling of relationships that feel true, and Stereophonic offers several sublime moments of tension and release. An ode to the art of making art, and those we journey alongside, it is a worthy addition to the canon of great American plays, and one of the best plays-with-music in recent memory. —Margaret Hall, staff writer
Appropriate
If there is a chorus of girls and gays begging for Sarah Paulson to yell at them, I am among them. Paulson’s Tony Award-winning performance in Branden Jacobs-Jenkins Tony Award-winning play, Appropriate, shook me to my very core (the very core of me that, I suppose, thrives on punishment and reward #ThanksCatholicism). Following a Southern family as they reckon with the horrifying secrets of their late father, Appropriate peeks underneath the hood of great American inherited evil, with which we still cannot reckon. In this blistering family drama, Jacobs-Jenkins asserts America has a problem that is no closer to finding a solution. —Dylan Parent, editorial assistant
The Outsiders
In a year of many book adaptations making their way to Broadway, a standout for me was The Outsiders. Like many others, I read the book as an assignment in my middle school English class. As a result, I have always held the novel and the movie adaptation close to my heart. I have followed the musical adaption development of The Outsiders since it was in rehearsals for its out-of-town runs. When its Broadway run was announced, I was more than ecstatic. So many aspects of the musical make the book come alive on the stage. The choice to keep Ponyboy’s narration throughout the story makes us feel like we are seeing Tulsa through his eyes despite sitting in the audience. Hours could be spent talking about Danya Taymor's beautiful direction and the Kuperman Brothers' choreography of the Rumble. The sequence was everything a book fan could imagine—the rain and the fight choreography is some of the best I've ever seen on stage.
Not only is the musical faithful to the novel, it expands on some of the characters. The biggest expansion is given to Cherry, which was much needed as she is one of the few prominent female characters in the book. The songs in the show (from Jamestown Revival) are true to the spirit of the original work. "Stay Gold" is truly one of the most beautiful songs of the year. I sob every single time I hear it. —Meredith Ammons, social media coordinator
Maybe Happy Ending
The greatest musicals (Sweeney Todd, Gypsy, Fun Home) have vivid and specific musical scores that lend themselves to disassembly. In these powerhouse scores, the same melodies evoke different emotions each time they appear in a new musical context. I’ve been missing that in new musicals these days, but I found it again in Maybe Happy Ending (score by Will Aronson and Hue Park). I remember one memorable scene featuring the two Helperbots (Darren Criss and Helen J Shen), set to an instrumental reprise of “World Within My Room”—a song about the enjoyment of being alone. This time, though, that lovely melody is rhythmically broken up and harmonically reimagined with the introduction of another person (er, robot) and love. All of this is beautifully shepherded by creative madman Michael Arden, who directs the show with such inspired creativity that I was moved to tears, honestly, just by the beauty of what I saw and heard. —Ethan Treiman, video editor
Ragtime
In the week that I saw Ragtime at New York City Center, I have never had that much of an out-of-body experience watching a show before. Because every single line that they said—even though I've seen it before, even though I've heard it before, I know it backwards and forwards—hearing some of those lyrics and the book lines the week of the election (two days prior), it was beyond anything.... You cannot put it into words. Honestly, it was one of the most incredible, and incredibly sad, things to have to sit through because you're just sitting there as a human being surrounded by other human beings experiencing this and thinking, "How many times do we have to do this over and over again?" And this musical was written in the 1990s, based on a book from 1975, and here we are decades later, and we're still doing it, and every lyric and every word is still appropriate. And full-blown props to New York City Center. That space is gorgeous, and what they can do with orchestrations in there remains an unbeatable thing, truly.
And 2024 being the year the Joshua Henry finally got to be Coalhouse Walker Jr., there was one good thing that happened! —Heather Gershnowitz, photo editor/photographer
