REVIEW: Damn Yankees (Arena Stage)

Is there a better pairing than the Baltimore Orioles and continual disappointment? As a Charm City native, it’s an annual tradition to languish, and 2025’s edition is thankfully wrapping up in the next few weeks. But we won’t be quite done with the Birds yet: in Arena Stage’s much-anticipated, pre-Broadway revival of Damn Yankees that opened this past weekend, the 1956 Washington Senators are replaced with the 2000 O’s team. Even though this meant reliving the trauma of supporting a team that lost 88 games that season, Sergio Trujillo’s production is the most positive an experience I’ve had at both Arena Stage (and an Orioles-related event) in years.

Book/Music

A selling point of this that the original 1955 book (by George Abbott and Douglass Wallop) has gotten a major retooling by Will Power and Doug Wright. I’m glad I took the time to familiarize myself with the original musical before attending, as the changes were universally beneficial. The core, Faustian premise is largely the same: Joe Boyd is a suffering baseball fan and he wants nothing more than his basement-dwelling ballers to win the pennant (a spot in the World Series, for the “sportsball”-ers reading). In fact, he’d sell his soul for them to just get one good power hitter. A purple-clad demon by the name of Applegate happens to overhear and after some convincing, gives Joe the opportunity to make this a reality. Joe’s character and those of the supporting cast are believably rich and humorous, with plenty of one-liners and humorously (il)logical decision-making. The bargain itself wasn’t very needing of an update, but the conditions and setting that color it were brilliant changes that bring it up to date to our current nostalgias while keeping the core of the musical afloat. Think: references to the 2000’s steroid era of baseball, and the added layer of character to Joe by making him the son of a former Negro League player. The music from Richard Adler and Jerry Ross (with some new additions from Lynn Ahrens) still holds up, too, thanks to Doug Besterman’s resplendent orchestrations. I wasn’t blown away by my morning’s listen to the 1994 cast recording, but I would be lying if I wasn’t whistling “Six Months out of Every Year” by the time I got on the Metro ride home. 10/10

Acting

There’s no “I” in team. But there is “A”, which is the grade this ensemble deserves. A concoction of familiar Broadway faces and DC familiars, there’s a buoyancy that’s apparent from the first note. The energy from everyone is infectious, from the smiley acrobatics of the team to the cartoonishly sinister digs from Rob McClure’s Applegate. The devil seductress Lola, whose role is one of the more creative evolutions among Golden Age femme fatales, is done with a misleadingly friendly demeanor and sharp movement from Ana Villafañe. Additionally, the chemistry from Bryhona Marie’s Meg and Quentin Earl Darrington’s Joe Boyd is consistent through Jordan Donica’s towering baritone and surprisingly vivid mannerisms. Even the players on the team have firecracker personalities that coalesce around the effervescence of Nehal Joshi’s coach Van Buren. 10/10

Production

I had a lot of hope that with the change to Baltimore, there could be rampant Baltimore-isms. I regret to inform you that during the national anthem scene, they do not yell out “O!” during the penultimate verse. This is inexcusable. O/10

…but that’s essentially the only issue. In fact, Trujillo’s direction is a goody bag of Baltimore references and over-the-top theatricality that is nothing but a delight for the senses. The staging by Robert Brill is minimal yet elastic; props, couches, and benches fly in and out with ease, and there’s excellent use of four corner platforms as stand-ins for the bases on the diamond. Philip Rosenberg’s lighting helps, of course, and his selective use of oranges, purples, and washed-out blues via ceiling-mounted stadium lights are impressive. Additionally, Peter Nigrini’s projection work is a stroke of genius: the arena itself is flanked by screens that show team promos and lyrical accessories as if you were at Camden Yards, which is expertly timed with Trujillo’s electrifying choreography. This ensemble is bigger than what usually comes with shows at the Fichandler stage, but it never feels overwhelming, even when an entire team of ball players — in gorgeous uniforms from Linda Cho— are skipping and backflipping with reckless abandon. There’s diversity in the movement that keeps each number excitingly fresh, and even has easter eggs to Bob Fosse’s original work with the show. The magic (of which there are plenty thanks to illusions by Paul Kieve) doesn’t stay within the bounds of the stage, as the icing on this cake is the sheer commitment to Orioles fandom this production maintains. Several scenes include ensemble members that are dressed head-to-toe in Birdland merch, characters use bits like “Hon”, and there are references to Baltimore landmarks I definitely wasn’t expecting: the dramaturgy is on point and delightfully realized. 10/10

Viz

Arena’s been pulling out a lot of stops with the marketing. Ads shot at Nationals Park, more Instagram ads than usual, and even a gaggle of influencer content from users I don’t usually see at the Theatre(tm). I was expecting it to continue into the pre-show experience, but it’s comparatively minimal: a baseball diamond with some neon player outlines. Jams from the year 2000 is a great touch. Despite the limited flair, it’s still effective, even if the script suggests there should be more peanut-throwing. 10/10

Verdict

Damn Yankees at Arena is a grand slam, keeping this Golden Age musical from being washed up with a fresh and invigorating new production that has miles and miles (and miles) of heart. 40/40