The Pasadena Playhouse closes out its 100th year with the classic musical Brigadoon, fittingly about a mysterious Scottish village that only appears once every hundred years. And honestly? What a lovely way to end a triumphant celebration.
This new adaptation by Alexandra Silber feels far less like a straightforward revival and more like a genuine reimagining of the beloved musical. While the central premise remains the same – two Americans stumble upon a charming village hidden deep in the Scottish Highlands – this version leans much harder into themes of identity, belonging, and the fear of losing culture and tradition over time.
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Where older productions often played as dreamy fantasy romance, this adaptation gives the material a much stronger emotional grounding. The villagers no longer feel like storybook archetypes but rather like people desperately trying to preserve a disappearing way of life. Even the Scottish setting itself feels more textured and authentic rather than simply existing as a romanticized postcard backdrop.
What makes the production work so beautifully is that it still honors the lush Lerner & Loewe score and all the songs audiences come for, but reframes them through a more modern emotional lens. The result is a Brigadoon that feels less quaint and far more resonant, asking audiences to connect to the story not simply as fantasy, but as something more human.
Shipley’s changes work remarkably well, updating some of the original’s more dated themes and motivations to make them more relatable. Best friends Jeff (Happy Anderson) and Tommy (Max von Essen) still arrive in the Highlands, but this time their journey feels more rooted in self-discovery than simple adventure. Gone are the hunting kits and Tommy’s fiancée waiting back home. So when the pair hear the distant strains of “Brigadoon” and cross a bridge into a village seemingly frozen in time, they’re equally enchanted and bewildered.
Much of the familiar story remains intact. Charlie Dalrymple (Daniel Yearwood) is still preparing to marry Jean McLaren (Kylie Victoria Edwards). Harry Beaton still longs for Jean despite Maggie’s (Jessica Lee Keller) devotion to him. Saucy Meg Brockie (Donna Vivino) still takes a liking to Jeff, though here she’s less flirtation-forward and more a keeper of tradition, language, and community spirit. One of the production’s smartest changes is transforming Mr. Lundie into Widow Lundie, played magnificently by Tyne Daly, who becomes the emotional keeper of Brigadoon’s mystery and magic.
And of course there’s Fiona (Betsy Morgan), the luminous young woman Tommy instantly falls for – and who falls just as quickly for him. Thankfully, Max von Essen grounds Tommy’s whirlwind romance with a believable sincerity that keeps it from floating away into pure fairy tale. His voice is perfection. Morgan, meanwhile, absolutely shimmers, both vocally and emotionally.
The cast across the board is glorious. Happy Anderson makes Jeff delightfully funny without reducing him to comic relief. Donna Vivino practically burns the place down during “The Love of My Life.” Daniel Yearwood’s soaring vocals light up “I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean” and the gorgeous “Come to Me, Bend to Me” — which, frankly, sounds so close to “Music of the Night” from The Phantom of the Opera that Andrew Lloyd Webber may owe somebody a thank-you card.
Katie Spelman’s elegant direction and luminous choreography elevate the production into something that genuinely feels Broadway-ready. With such a large cast, the show could easily have felt like crowd control, but it never does.
Two dance sequences especially stand out: the “Wedding Dance,” where Charlie and Jean commit themselves to each other even as doubt quietly lingers beneath the surface, and the haunting “Funeral Dance,” with Keller’s Maggie mourning the man she loved who could never fully love her back. Both numbers are stunning, not just because of their beauty and emotional weight, but because of the extraordinary talent and passion of every dancer involved.
Combined with Jason Sherwood’s gorgeous scenic design, this Brigadoon becomes the kind of theatrical experience that feels both timeless and newly discovered all at once.
And like the village itself, this is one worth seeking out before it disappears.
