PROMENADE at New Line Theater Review

(L-R) Tawaine Noah as 106, Stephanie Merritt as Servant, and Ronmal Mottley as 105, singing “The Cigarette Song,” in New Line Theatre’s PROMENADE, 2026. Photo credit: Jill Ritter Lindberg. Courtesy of New Line Theater

– By Cate Marquis –

New Line Theater bills itself as the “bad boy” of musical theater, and that is hilariously true in the case of it’s current production, “Promenade,” a delightfully satiric absurdist musical that is as tuneful and hummable as any I’ve heard in years. When I first read the musical’s description, an off-Broadway absurdist musical comedy hit from 1969 with book and lyrics by Maria Irene Fornes and music by Al Carmines, which was beloved by critics and is now considered a classic, although somewhat puzzling to audiences at the time, I was intrigued. What I didn’t expect was that “Promenade” would be so incredibly funny and completely entertaining.

I’d be singing the tuneful songs except the absurdist lyrics are impossible to remember (although they were cleverly pointed in some cases, like “if they have no cake, they can eat bread”). The musical has a sort of vaudeville vibe, but one by way of “Cabaret,” by way of “Three Penny Opera,” and full of sly humor and winking satiric commentary on the idiocy of the idle wealthy and the resourcefulness of the desperately poor and down-trodden who ingeniously find ways to survive.

The two-act musical comedy plays surprisingly well now, and even seems timely, although it has a few little hints of the past. Wisely, directors Scott Miller and Chris Moore do not try to set it in the present, nor even the 1960s, but leave it in a kind of Roaring 1920s/Gilded Age 1890s hybrid, with perhaps a toe in the 1930s Great Depression. That indeterminate time period allows costume designer Becca Rose Bessette to have a great deal of fun with the whimsical outfits.

“Promenade” is an absurdist play, so it does not have much of a plot, but what it has serves the musical well enough to take it from one wonderful satiric vignette or bit of comedy to the next. The narrative frame is built around two jailed prisoners, 105 (Ronmal Mottley) and 106 (Tawaine Noah), who we meet after the on-stage band opens the show with the catchy “Promenade Theme” song, a tune with a breezy, sly vaudeville style.

Dressed in classic black-and-white stripes, our two prisoners are trying to dig their way out of their cell, singing the tune “Dig Dig Dig” as they do. They break out right under the nose of the self-absorbed Jailer (Ian McCreary) who is too absorbed deciding which prisoner’s wife, daughter or widow he is going to bed next to even notice them. While Jailer is busy bragging about how smart he is to juggle all those dalliances, the prisoners quietly slip away.

The escapees 105 and 106 are the main characters in this absurd delight, and we follow them as they wander through a society of cluelessness and privilege. The two escapees next slip unobserved into a party of the rich and well-connected, collectively called the Aristocrats, who waiting for the Mayor (W. Smith III) to arrive. Each of these well-heeled buffoons around the dining table is in love with the next one, something they sing about in “Unrequited Love.” They are too absorbed in their own troubles to notice the thinly-disguised prisoners, as they slip in and help themselves to the banquet.

The Aristocrat party-goers are all named by a single letter, vowels for women, Miss I (Kathleen Dwyer), Miss O (Benni Jillette) and Miss U (Chelsie Johnston) and consonants for men, Mr. R (Chris Moore), Mr. S (Kent Coffel), and Mr. T (Robert Doyle). When a giant cake is wheeled in, out jumps Cake (Lauren Tenenbaum), scantily dressed, whose appearance prompts the rich women at the banquet, who have had plenty to drink, to decide to strip down to their undies too. When one of the men says he wants to disrobe as well, the other men object loudly, reminding him only women can be “naked” (well, in underwear), referencing the patriarchal rule. Cake is also the mistress of the Mayor, who eventually does turn up at the party, and proves himself a bully and a narcissist, a generally unpleasant egotistical fellow.

A bit later in the play, we meet a couple more characters, Servant (Stephanie Merritt) who recognizes the escapees 105 and 106 as fellow souls just trying have some freedom and comfort in a society not built for them. Later we meet Mother (Bee Mecey), the mother of a lost child, who wanders in and out of scenes looking for the lost tot. She searches for constantly for the baby, pleading for help from all she meets, and telling her tale, but ignored by the society around her despite her pleas. The cast is filled out by Nathan Mecey, who plays Waiter and Michael Kramer, who plays Dishwasher, as well as a number of smaller roles.

Bee Mecey’s Mother is both pitiful and absurdly comic, no small feat to pull off. All the cast are great, both in their absurd comic roles, and in some cases, with outstanding, even operatic voices, which is certainly something unexpected. Like a modern day “Figaro,” the escapees 105 and 106 and Servant are much smarter than their supposed social betters, the Aristocrats, Mayor and Jailer, and reveal themselves to be more aware than either.

The songs are plentiful, including ensemble tunes like “Don’t Eat It” and “Isn’t That Clear,” and solos like “Chicken Is He” by Cake. Jailer, 105, and 106 sing a particularly sly “Apres Vous,” and Servant, 105 and 106 sing “The Clothes Make The Man” and “The Cigarette Song.” The second act features Waiter singing “Mr. Sidney N. Philips” and “Madeline,” the whole company reprising “Apres Vous,” and singing “The Laughing Song,” as just a few of the songs packed into this entertaining show.

Songs are enjoyable and often accompanied by choreography in a delightful vaudevillian style, well suited to the catchy tunes and near-nonsense absurdist lyrics. Since the story is absurd, people breaking into song and dance, as they do in musicals, fits in perfectly. The choreography by Livy Potthoff has the same charming vaudeville flavor as the music, which adds to the fun.

The action takes place on a cleverly designed two-tier set, with props that can be moved or repurposed as needed for the scenes. Costumes are wonderfully colorful, creative and mixed up, giving the sense of kids dressing up in what they found in grandma’s attic.

Kudos to New Line for bringing back this delightful, sharp musical back from the past. The cast and staff all deserve praise for this well-staged, wonderfully performed production, a delight that can be enjoyed more than once.

New Line Theater’s “Promenade” is on stage at the Marcelle Theater through Mar. 28, 2026.

© Cate Marquis