Four decades from now on the outskirts of Seoul, South Korea, the handsome and immaculately groomed Oliver (Darren Criss) spends his days contentedly confined to his stylish but tiny single-room apartment. He one-sidedly converses with his houseplant, HwaBoon (a far more amicable herbage than the man-eater Criss encountered Off-Broadway in Little Shop of Horrors), listens to classic jazz records, looks down at the world outside his widow, and reminisces about his former life with James (Marcus Choi, who skillfully takes on multiple roles including James’ son Junseo, and an amusingly jaded motel clerk). Oliver tunes into daily weather and air quality reports as he eagerly awaits the mail that is delivered via a chute in the ceiling. He continually hopes that there might be something from James, but instead he gets the latest copy of Jazz Monthly and the occasional replacement part. He also receives live updates on his vitals, such as his battery charge and efficiency, from an advanced Siri-like AI voice that he interacts with.
As is immediately clear from Criss’ deft physical work—giving C-3PO vibes—as well as his rather automated, slightly unnatural sounding vocal delivery, and his Ken-like pristine appearance (with makeup design by Suki Tsujimoto), Oliver is not human but actually a retired HelperBot 3, who brushes his eyes along with his teeth. James, whom he reveres and pines for, is not an ex-boyfriend but Oliver’s former owner who did not simply discard him when he no longer required his services, but set him up in a kind of retirement home (the HelperBot Yards) where bots are sent to gradually expire into complete obsolescence until they eventually power down for good.
The passing of one day to the next is effectively conveyed by Ben Stanton’s exquisite lighting design, with a window-shaped patch of daylight moving across Oliver’s apartment wall, turning dark orange before slowly fading away. We observe ten years pass by this way, until one day the predictability and comfortable repetition of Oliver’s routine is disturbed by a knock at the door from his beautiful and genial neighbour, Claire (Helen J Shen), a HelperBot 5 who urgently needs to borrow his charger in order to keep herself operational. It is a knock that Oliver initially ignores, but eventually caves in and answers.
More human-like and easy-going than Oliver, Claire offers him the helpful suggestion that he should place his treasured but wilting HwaBoon closer to the window so that it can get more daylight. Oliver bristles, but grudging takes her good advice. Lacking in social skills, he is clearly insecure that Claire is a more advanced HelperBot model, and his resentment towards her and her intrusion leads to plenty of humorously awkward interactions between them. This friction begins to feel like romantic tension, but robots can’t fall in love, can they? This is the enticing setup of the enchanting new Broadway sci-fi musical rom-com Maybe Happy Ending, with music by Will Aronson and lyrics by Hue Park—who combined their efforts on the show’s book—and pitch-perfect direction by Tony-winner Michael Arden, which is now running at the Belasco Theatre.
Scenic designer Dane Laffrey’s striking and impressively versatile set initially frames Oliver and Claire’s apartments as small but beautifully-appointed boxes, surrounded by the vast black expanse of the depth and breadth stage, emphasizing the isolation of their existence while sharpening our focus on the detail of their every movement, and in turn, helping to heighten our emotions. Both the visuals, and the narrative, capture the increasing solitude of modern urban life back here in the present-day, where it feels like we are increasingly disconnected from one another and siloed; something especially familiar to anyone who lived alone through the long months of quarantine during the pandemic. In fact, Maybe Happy Ending feels like it could have been inspired by that time, but this show’s inception preceded Covid and the lockdowns it brought. The Korean-language version debuted back in December 2016 at DaeMyung Culture Factory in Seoul, while the the English-language show premiered at Atlanta’s Alliance Theatre in January 2020.
It is particularly impactful when the tight space that we have hitherto seen Oliver and Claire inhabit expands, along with their worlds, as they embark on a road trip to Jeju Island in hopes that Oliver can be reunited with James. Their emotional lives expand too, as they begin to entertain the idea that they are falling in love with one another and start to grapple with the inevitable pain they will face when their time together eventually comes to an end.
Along with the captivating staging of their travels by car and ferry to Jeju, their journey leads to some funny fish-out-of-water moments as the robots try to pass for humans by coming up with the details of their fake identities and backstories—including how they met and fell in love—in case they are stopped and questioned. This results in one of the show’s most romantic and fun duets, “The Rainy Day We Met”, as they brainstorm, and bicker over, the finer points of their imagined meet-cute.
While Oliver mines his knowledge of music and movies for inspiration, Claire draws upon the real-life relationship that she witnessed blossom and breakdown up-close, that of her former owners Jiyeon and Suhan (portrayed in videos by Arden Cho and Young Mazino). Oliver idealized his owner, but Claire recalls a more challenging experience with hers. With stunning work by video and projection designer George Reeve, we see the robots’ memories projected onto a diaphanous surface like scenes from a film. Rather than dazzle us, or take us out of the live action on stage, the use of video here is expressive and ethereal, drawing us further into these bots’ inner-lives as we see the humans from their perspective. We are also left to contemplate our own relationship with and reliance upon technology, and how that might come at the expense of connecting with the humans in our lives.
Criss and Shen bring real nuance to their performances, even in the space between the dialogue and songs, and the moments that they are alone in their apartments and silent in their thoughts are among the production’s most compelling, but the real magic happens when they are on stage together. The blossoming relationship between the two is touching and endearingly sweet but never cloying. Aronson’s music and Park’s lyrics are tender and delicate, and rather than blasting us with how the characters are feeling, they create an intimacy that invites us to lean in close, with bright piano notes and stirring strings.
One of the standout numbers, “The Way That It Has To Be”, has shades of Sondheim’s “Merrily We Roll Along” and Jonathan Larson’s tick, tick…BOOM! ballad, “Why”. The show’s heartwarming and poignant songs have a traditional musical theatre sound with a contemporary edge, and a purity to them that fits these characters experiencing love for the first time. Both Criss and Shen are in very fine voice, and it is a joy to hear them sing, but these numbers are more about expressing deep thoughts and feelings than showing off vocally. With impeccable comic timing, they both really deliver the show’s physical and verbal humour, such in the scene where they spend the night a sleazy motel, that usually rents rooms by the hour, watching Terminator 2: Judgment Day and Oliver gives a running commentary on the 1990s vision of futuristic robots. They also perfectly calibrate the subtle shifts in their characters’ reading as more human at times and less so at others.
The Voice star Dez Duron—reprising his role from the Alliance Theatre production—brings old-school charm and his dreamily rich and smooth vocals, reminiscent of Harry Connick Jr. and Jamie Cullum, as he embodies the imagined, Sinatra-like 20th century crooner, Gil Brentley, whom Oliver adores because he was James’ favourite. Brentley appears when Oliver listens to his beloved vinyl collection and returns at various intervals to deliver some gorgeous jazzy numbers like “Why Love” and “A Sentimental Person” that underscore or comment on the developing relationship between Oliver and Claire. The contrast in musical styles highlights the distinctive, nostalgia-tinged perspective that the wisdom in Brentley’s songs bring. Taken together, despite the show’s circa 2046 setting, its musical language is rooted not in futuristic electronic tones, but in the analogue and the tangible, like the crackling of LP grooves as the needle hits the vinyl, and the sound of a piano key being struck or a bow brushing against the strings of a violin.
Given that the protagonists are both robots, what is most surprising about this show is how emotionally potent and life-affirming it is, as we connect with the humanity that we recognize in them that has been programmed and learned. We can all relate to getting stuck in our ways, only to have our lives turned upside down when we meet someone, with the hopes and fears that a new encounter ignites in us. It turns out that these bots can experience anguish and elation in their own way too. Whether we’re falling in or out of love, many of us turn to music for companionship, catharsis, and even philosophy, and Maybe Happy Ending explores that space while delivering us new songs to embrace.
The HelperBot Yards feels like a state of purgatory, but these bots, who do not have the comfort that some humans do of believing in an afterlife, know that when they power down for the last time, everything will turn to black. With Claire’s remaining time fading faster than Oliver’s, as she encounters irreparable charging issues, it is hard not to think of a partner faced with losing their loved one to a terminal illness. Rather than being nihilistic, Oliver and Claire have a strong urge to exist, as they begin to ponder and discover the meaning of life and develop a desire savour it before it is too late, as expressed in the carpe diem spirit of lyrics like, “Go make it count now / Enjoy the time you have left” in “Hitting The Road”.
Just as we see ourselves in them, Oliver and Claire compare themselves to fireflies, “little forest robots”, with a far shorter lifespan than theirs (or ours) of just two months. This leads to one breathtakingly beautiful and deeply affecting scene where Oliver and Claire gradually become surrounded by the glittering insects as they fill the space around them and the on-stage orchestra swells. It creates an unforgettable theatrical sight that, like the rest of the show, is ultimately more about the emotion of the scene than the spectacle of the staging, however ravishing it might look.
The show’s framing of the robots’ expanding consciousness allows Aronson and Park to tackle life’s big questions from a refreshing angle. The result is a triumph. With Broadway dominated by revivals and shows based on movies and other existing properties, Maybe Happy Ending is a welcome breath of fresh air and a tender, bittersweet delight. Clever, without trying to outsmart its audience, it is a funny, profound, and deeply moving must-see.
By James Kleinmann
Maybe Happy Ending officially opened on Broadway on November 12th, 2024 at the Belasco Theatre and is now booking through May 25th, 2025. For more details and to purchase tickets head to maybehappyending.com.