From Ring-a-Ding Swagger to Swooning Romanticism
MILLBURN, N.J. — Many a tut has been tutted in recent years over the contamination of Broadway by the spirit of Las Vegas, the world capital of the flashy, boozy floor show. So I am happy to report that you can score one for Team Broadway. The delightfully unexpected “Honeymoon in Vegas,” which opened this week at the Paper Mill Playhouse here, has wrestled the neon mirage of its title into the solid, satisfying shape of a classic Broadway musical.
Based on the 1992 movie by Andrew Bergman, who also wrote the salty book for this show, and featuring a revelation of a score by Jason Robert Brown, “Honeymoon in Vegas” is no facile satire. Instead, it captures, tickles and exalts the singular sensibility of a desert city based on surreal estate. Like Las Vegas itself, “Honeymoon” exists at the corner of tacky and hip. As performed under the single-malt-smooth direction of Gary Griffin, it’s a swinging hymn to laid-back outrageousness.
