Smash is singular sensation

“Overture, curtain, lights. This is it, the night of nights . . .” The much-anticipated Smash officially debuts on NBC and CTV Monday night at 10. But for those who cannot wait, CTV is previewing the musical drama on its website for three days (it started Friday). Smash, the singular, sensational saga of a Broadway musical in the making, will be the most all-round entertaining weekly hour you are likely to spend all season. Smash has widely been referred to as “a thinking man’s Glee,” though I would hesitate to even put them in the same sentence. The show casts Will & Grace’s Debra Messing, who has never been more engaging, as the frantic collaborator (with Christian Borle of Legally Blonde: The Musical) of a new stage musical based on the storied life of Marilyn Monroe. Two actresses, played by actual Broadway star Megan Hilty ( Wicked, 9 to 5: The Musical) and American Idol runner-up Katharine Mcphee are vying for the role. Jack Davenport ( Flashforward, Swingtown) is all grit and grizzle as the show’s snidely cynical, Simon Cowell-esque director, with a positively regal Anjelica Huston as its “angel,” stage-speak for producer. But the real-life angels here are the Tony Award-winning composers Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, and Hairspray film producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron. Shaiman and Wittman’s imprint — through screen surrogates Messing and Borle — is apparent from the first, contextually tentative musical number, your classic Broadway “I Wish” ballad, belted by Marilyn-for-hire Hilty. Then you see what’s ultimately in store, as Davenport-as-director is charged with full-on staging of an inspired, double-entendre songand-dance routine celebrating baseball, referencing the Marilyn marriage to slugger Joe Dimaggio.

And herein lies the show’s initial brilliance: the rehearsal number is intricately intercut with an imagined representation of how it will eventually look in costume and onstage.

These are just a few of the pilot’s many delights, which are not by any means all musical. That’s a good thing: even the prolific Shaiman and Wittman would be hardpressed to crank out two or three of these numbers per episode for the rest of this 15-episode halfseason.

Nor is it necessary. You would be emotionally invested in these characters even if they were staging an all-mime production of Waiting for Godot.

I will not reveal more; this peek behind the curtain will suffice until that curtain rises.

Now “On with the show, this is it.”