Chess opened November 16, 2025 at the Imperial Theatre and was recently extended through June 14, 2026.
By Elazar Abrahams
There’s a version of Chess that should be a layup. The score, concocted by ABBA’s Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus back in 1984, is stacked with bangers. The Cold War stakes lend a tone that is inherently theatrical. Add in three powerhouse leads, and this should be a sure thing. However, this production, directed by Michael Mayer with a new, reworked book by Danny Strong, is a real mixed bag.
The most frustrating part is that the script keeps insisting it doesn’t want to be taken too seriously. That’s a shame, because when Chess commits to sincerity, it’s at its most enjoyable. The best parts are the three leads and the music. Aaron Tveit, Lea Michele, and Nicholas Christopher are an insanely talented trio, and the songs are layered and kinetic. The choreography also deserves credit, as does the relatively minimalist design, which is used far more effectively here than in a lot of other stripped down Broadway shows.
Unfortunately, Strong’s updated version of the plot is messy, and the tone even worse. This musical has always had a reputation for being hard to pull together. The story has been reworked in different iterations for decades, and it still resists cohesion. It’s part of the Chess mythos at this point. So yes, some confusion is baked into the property. But this production adds a new obstacle that is entirely self-inflicted: the Arbiter.
In this revival, the Arbiter (played by Bryce Pinkham) is no longer just a character who referees the tournament and delivers a few key moments. He’s turned into an omnipresent, fourth-wall-breaking narrator who peppers the show with constant commentary that actively undercuts the musical’s emotional stakes.
Every time the story finally builds real tension, or a song lands as a turning point, the script cannot resist having him jump in to wink at the audience. After a strong Act 2 kick-off when Tveit powers through “One Night in Bangkok,” the narrator jumps in with a little “hot!” The show refuses to let a moment breathe, or to let the audience care about it. After Michele delivers a staggering “Nobody’s Side,” one of the vocal highlights of the night and a real dramatic pivot, the Arbiter yells something like “wow, so talented! Am I right guys?” Again, the impulse is to deflate instead of elevate. It’s like the production is allergic to sincerity.
The worst offense might be the narrator essentially hyping up his own big number with a self-aware “I’m going to sing now, and yeah, I’m totally going to crush it!” This baffling choice doesn’t stop there. The book also drops modern references and present-day political punchlines, including jokes about contemporary figures like Trump and Biden. None of it feels necessary, and none of it is funny enough to justify spoon-feeding the audience an intended message instead of them being able to think like adults.
Chess is campy, no doubt about it. A love triangle hinging on a game of pawns and rooks will do that for ya. Yet campy in an operatic sense would be a much better package for this show then the telenovela, winky soap opera version presented on stage here. A grand, romantic political thriller dragged down with snarky comedy that won’t let the stakes stand. The score is doing one thing while the script does another.
It is a true testament to the cast that Chess is still an absolute must see for any theater fan.
Tveit is very well cast, especially in the way he sells the a-hole swagger of Freddie. However, he doesn’t have as much to do in the second act, and the show increasingly belongs to Nicholas Christopher. Fresh off breakout runs in Little Shop of Horrors, Jelly’s Last Jam, and understudying Sweeney Todd, Christopher delivers another star-making performance. Lea Michele is a highlight as well, one only wishes she got more solos to work with.
The final verdict on Chess lands in that mixed-positive place. There is so much to like here, and the cast album cannot drop soon enough. Certain creative choices, though, really hold the piece back from being kinged.
