There are a surprising number of perspectives to take in considering the new musical “Mrs. Doubtfire,” now rolling through town in its tour after a flopped-but-hey-pandemic Broadway run. And the selected viewpoint very much determines the endpoint of one’s evaluation.
First, of course, you can compare it to the 1993 blockbuster film starring Robin Williams as a suddenly divorced father who disguises himself as an old Scottish nanny to be around his kids. As movie-to-musical adaptations go, it sits firmly on the more faithful side. That makes it happily serviceable for someone who loved the film and wants to bring a child of their own, although I would probably suggest about age 8 or older since there’s some patience required as the story sorts through its complications in Act II.
The good news is that the Robin Williams character — in one of the actor’s classic film performances, improvising with that on-the-edge-of-sanity zaniness that made him so compelling — is played by Rob McClure in a rare case of the Broadway lead going on tour.
McClure (“Chaplin” and “Something Rotten”) is a great performer who proves a wide-ranging mimic and conjures an entertainingly antic but comparatively controlled energy. It ain’t Williams — can you imagine yourself being compared to that standard? — but it’s more than just a souvenir replica, and he gets the heart of the story’s arc just right.
His character — the unsuccessful, man-child actor Daniel Hilliard — must be irresponsible enough to justify wife Miranda (Maggie Lakis, McClure’s real-life spouse) kicking him out, and a judge granting her full custody of their three kids. They’re the right decisions. Yet Daniel also still must be fundamentally trustworthy enough to make us root for him as he creates the character of Euphegenia Doubtfire and becomes their afternoon caretaker. And on top of that, he has to somehow keep Daniel likable as he becomes a duplicitous confidant to Miranda and attempts to scuttle her burgeoning relationship with new beau Stu (Leo Roberts).
That’s the core sympathy-juggling that McClure, book writers Karey Kirkpatrick and John O’Farrell, and director Jerry Zaks pull off here. Daniel does some heinous things — and the show itself does not excuse them — but we always know he doesn’t intend to harm. He’s a selfish jerk who goes too far and betrays people’s trust to the point of damage, and yet we can still love him as long as it’s not real life. That’s called comedy, and comedy is not a morality play.
Another key angle here for consideration is the stagecraft, and here the show manages to be admirable. Zaks — the very definition of an old pro (he’s 77 with a legendary resume of comedies) — recognizes that on stage this show becomes classic farce. It’s not complicated except in execution: “Mrs. Doubfire” is a character in elaborate disguise, trying to maintain it.
The disguise from designer Catherine Zuber and team — body suit, full-on facial mask, wig — matter. It’s one thing to pull that off on film, but another in live theater. And Zaks — better than anyone, perhaps — understands the entertainment value of the quick-change, the aesthetic symmetry of physical comic complication, and the importance of nailing the timing of the climactic exposure. The one big lapse here involves an over-reliance on the shouting-is-lying schtick.
Let’s see. The lead performance and stagecraft? Check. Of course, this is also a musical, so considering the music matters, right? Except for a looping-infused rap number to close Act I, the un-memorable tunes, sadly, often feel like self-consciously cliché takes on themselves, referencing similar numbers from other shows (“Six” and “The Producers” both came to mind instantly at points). That may be semi-intentional from the composers (brothers Wayne and Karey Kirkpatrick) who created the satirical “Something Rotten,” but given the purposeful choice to avoid a sharp-edged take on the original (unlike the musical adaptation of the similar-in-many-ways “Tootsie”), that just makes the songs feel empty.
And, finally, there’s the cultural-political perspective to think about. This show received criticism for being anti-trans, depicting as it does a make-fun-of-men-as-woman plot in an era where gender identity sits at the core of a fraught cultural battle. There’s no question the tale is dated and updating it to the present — Taylor Swift gets a mention in the opening scene — seems more convenient and half-hearted than meaningful. Still, I don’t see anything more offensive about it now — it’s not like such drag didn’t get challenged in the ‘90s, just not as broadly — and look at it far more as old-school comedy than old-school trans-phobia.
As old-school comedy, this show has appeal, but don’t look for music or modernity.
