REVIEW: Senior Class (Olney Theatre Center)
Remember the musical adaptation of Little Miss Perfect? Olney had it on their docket for this season, but for some reason, moved it to 2025-26, leaving a giant hole in their mainstage offerings. Surely they could scrounge something together that’s bright, bubbly, and boisterous to fill it?
Enter: Senior Class. A world-premiere musical I’d never heard of, much less knew was in development, is and now tapping the boards at the Roberts. But a brief googling unearths some interesting morsels: it was workshopped as part of the 33rd Annual Festival of New Musicals in 2021, which also included 2024’s smash-hit, year-end-favorite, multi-Helen Hayes-winning Private Jones. Talk about good company!
Book/Music
Senior Class suffers from both its inspirations and aspirations. The book, concieved by Kevin Duda and written/composed by Melvin Tunstall III, follows a class of Manhattan high school seniors in their attempt to put on a new musical adaptation of Pygmalion since budget cuts render My Fair Lady infeasible and its base text is in the public domain. Leading this charge is George Bernard (known to all as GB), a Black, Julliard-bound piano prodigy from a family of opera megastars, and Colin Crosby, his white Theatre Kid™️ best friend whose sole focus is to win a Jimmy Award, the high school theater honors. Concurrently, we meet Alizé: a gifted, Ailey-trained dancer whose blue-collar background necessitates she busk with her friends on the subway just to cover the cost. When the two book the same practice room after school, the gears naturally join after some bickering, and Alize’s blunt yet down-to-earth posse are cast in GB’s posh-adjacent new production. “We have to put on the best Pygmalion musical this school’s ever seen!” is both a one-sentence summary of this show and a guffawed recognition of its flaccidity. However, despite its culpability of being a season-long Glee arc put to stage, it presents some interesting ideas. Notably, it smartly follows a John Proctor Is The Villain-like path of both paralleling and interpreting the base text. GB (named after the Pygmalion playwright as if destined) effectively tries to turn Alizé (her name itself an anagram of Eliza [Doolittle]) from a rough-around-the-edges Loud Black Girl™️ into one of high class, Julliard-worthy stature. But where this retreading of My Fair Lady fails to captivate is showing how Alizé grows to escape this molding. In fact: we need much more of Alizé —and her friends— across the entire two-act runtime, and a lot less GB. Several scenes featuring GB and his poor-little-rich-boy issues drag on so long that the show seems to forget Alizé and her hugely charismatic backing group even exist; her underdevelopment a travesty given how interesting and high-potential her character is. (SPOILER: You mean to tell me a lifelong dancer at the Ailey Studio — one of the best dancing programs on the planet — wouldn’t know that Julliard dance auditions were happening until GB mentions it offhand, a week before? It’s not believable that someone as driven as her would not have key information about her career prospects by this point.) The treatment of Alize is just one part of how it teeters on dealing with social issues, but never goes beyond superficiality (both in its dealings of race and class).
The score that accompanies the show is also a bit bland, but there’s some promise in the show-within-a-show score that GB devises. Think: what if we Hamilton’d Pygmalion? There, creativity was visible in the hip-hop tracks, with smart rhymes and clever storytelling. Though it was less so in the diegetic numbers, there were some highlights, such as an explosive ensemble get-it-done in Act II.
Despite this wall of text, don’t think I’ve lost hope. With some time, this concept could ripen and be greater. 3/10
Acting
The ensemble is variedly cast in color, body type, hair texture, and silhouette, and this diversity is among the best qualities of Senior Class. (Oh yeah, and they can sing. Well.) Jordyn Taylor (Tyquasia) and David Singleton (Bobby) particularly slay whenever they hit the scene; and Jeffrey Cornelius is a more-than-capable GB with an anxious affability. Lauryn Adams stands out as Alize, bringing grounded emotion to her role (and makes her lack of importance all the more frustrating.) 8/10
Production
Karla Puno Garcia’s electric choreography is by far the strongest element of the production. It actually takes you by surprise how fluid and busy the movement is, and how well it communicates their personalities. Though this isn’t to detract from the other well-executed elements, such as Kendra Rai’s splendidly sparkly costumes and Lawrence Moten III’s practical sets. 8/10
Viz
There may not be a worse gap between what a show is and how it sells itself with this iteration of Senior Class. I’m hesitant to state that so bluntly, but my audience was nigh-deserted; which is a disservice to some of the more quality elements of this production. The generic title, unattached program art that is vaguely “New York” and “Dancing girl”, and even the scrim of a (wonderfully color-slashed) subway car don’t do anything to inform audiences what this could possibly be about beyond its high school allusions. At least the Act II scrim leans into itself with Brechtian humor. 1/10
Verdict
Senior Class has its heart in the right place, and is produced quite well; but right now, perhaps the material itself is the one in need of an Eliza Doolittle-esque glow-up. 20/40
