By Megan Fraedrich
What do you do when you’re feeling blue? Some people binge-watch Netflix. Some go for a run. And some listen to the original cast recording of a little-known 1928 Broadway musical while providing full running commentary. Different strokes for different folks.
The Little Theatre of Alexandria’s sparkling production of The Drowsy Chaperone is a funny, entertaining showcase of immense talent, but even more than that, it’s a reminder of the power of the arts. When art resonates with us, it can do more than lift our moods: it can make us feel understood, like we have a place to belong. As ribbon-thin as the plot of the musical-within-the-musical here may be, it means everything to our quirky, withdrawn narrator, known only as Man in Chair.
What begins as a quiet evening in Man in Chair’s lonely apartment quickly turns into a razzle-dazzle Broadway musical as he puts on his favorite record and the characters emerge from every door and appliance in full 1920s finery. Man in Chair (Eric Kennedy) guides us through the shenanigans of The Drowsy Chaperone with darkly humorous quips that perfectly complement the frothy lightness of the musical pastiche. Kennedy’s interpretation of Man in Chair is full of awkward idiosyncrasies and bashful mannerisms that make him equal parts endearing and pitiful. Although Man in Chair says he hates when musicals break the fourth wall, he often does so, and Kennedy creates a wonderful rapport with the audience throughout.
So what is Man in Chair’s favorite musical actually about? As oil tycoon Robert Martin prepares to marry showgirl Janet Van De Graaff, they must navigate a disgruntled boss, gangsters in disguise, a dimwitted Don Juan, a missing minister, and their own old cold feet to make it down the aisle. And then there’s Janet’s inebriated chaperone, who flouts both Prohibition and her responsibility to keep the bride away from the groom before the wedding.
The Drowsy Chaperone’s path to Broadway was unique, to say the least. It began as a musical sketch presented in honor of a real couple named Robert Martin and Janet Van De Graaff before their wedding. But Martin and Van De Graaff weren’t just any couple. They were theater people. Martin saw potential and co-wrote an expanded version of the musical, playing the role of Man in Chair — first at the Toronto Fringe Festival, then in a mainstage Toronto production, and eventually, on Broadway.
The Little Theatre of Alexandria’s production moves quickly, with perfect timing and polish. Not a cue is mistimed, not a note is missed, every transition or effect goes off flawlessly, and Krissy McGregor’s expert direction keeps everything humming along. The live orchestra, led by Owen Posnett, is positively top-notch.
This is a short, breezy musical — only 95 minutes with no intermission — and with only 11 songs, almost every number is a show-stopper.
Of particular note, however, is Amelia Jacquat’s septuple threat performance as Janet Van De Graaff, who not only sings, dances, and acts beautifully but plays instruments, does magic tricks, spins plates, and goes through no less than five costume changes in her incredible solo number, “Show Off.” Jacquat plays Janet with wide-eyed, doll-like charm, always hitting self-conscious poses and giving her best angles to the ever-present paparazzi. The effect is hilarious, and her bright, bell-like voice feels made for this score.
The other standout number is “As We Stumble Along,” described by Man in Chair as “a rousing anthem about alcoholism,” delivered by the titular Drowsy Chaperone in a true diva turn by Leah Chiaverini. This number highlights her astonishing range, from dark, velvety low notes to a knock-your-socks-off belt, as well as a dry sense of humor that’s the only thing “dry” about the Chaperone.
Playing the groom and best man respectively, Matthew Monaghan and Matt Yinger show off fine tap-dancing chops and strong tenor vocals. Shakil Azizi chews the heck out of the scenery (he literally nibbles on a wedding bouquet at one point) as self-described ladies’ man Aldolpho, who feels like a cross between Pirelli from Sweeney Todd and The Count from Sesame Street — only instead of numbers, he’s obsessed with his own name.
Maura Lacy gives an adorably dotty performance as the slightly senile hostess Mrs. Tottendale, while Michael Blinde fully embraces the absurdity as her long-suffering butler, Underling. In the small but memorable role of Trix the aviatrix, Dr. Alexandra Johnson takes the stage with confidence and sings with style. And whenever Rachael Fine is onstage as the ditzy flapper, Kitty, she takes the cast’s already boundless energy to a new level.
Some of the show’s most delightful moments belong to Anthony Galace and Brian Ashton as a pair of gangsters masquerading as pastry chefs. They can sell a pastry pun like nobody’s business and move perfectly in synch, meringue-light on their feet. Their voices, too, blend as smoothly as sugar and butter.
If a few of the broader accents may waver in consistency (or, occasionally, comprehension), this is the kind of show where that doesn’t seem to matter much. The dancing is also impressive across the board — this cast sure can tap and Charleston, and choreographer Benjamin Simpson puts their talents to great use. There’s even a skate coach (Ryan Kincade) for a goofy sequence in which the groom roller-skates and sings while blindfolded.
The technical elements shine just as brightly as the cast — and in the case of lighting designers Jeff Auerbach and Kimberly Crago of JK Lighting, literally. Light cues enhance every aspect of storytelling in a show with many “freeze frames” and exposition dumps from Man in Chair. The dingy apartment set (designed by Matt Liptak and constructed by master carpenters Shah Choudhury and Julie Fischer, plus a whole set crew) is filled with well-crafted details, like a Murphy bed that comes down from the wall at key moments and a refrigerator that doubles as a door. Set decoration by Kacie Carlyle (assisted by Jonathan Oh) completes the lived-in feel of the apartment and gives us insights into Man in Chair’s personality and tastes, from a crocheted blanket to framed photos of his idols. The entire impression is one of a more depressing Mr. Rogers set, complete with jackets hanging by the door. Cleverly, the set pieces used for the musical-within-a-musical all have a “stagier” feel to them that makes it clear what’s part of his home and what’s part of his musical fantasy. There’s even a stylized airplane that descends from on high at one point. Set painter Diedre Nicholson-Lamb’s talents especially shine here.
Sound designer Austin Wydrzynski creates an immersive soundscape with assistance from Alan Wray — a ringing telephone really feels like the sound is coming from it, skips in an album feel realistic, but most impressive of all is the very start of the show. When Man in Chair begins playing his record, the sound is muted and scratchy and feels localized to the area around his record player. Then, as he becomes fully absorbed in the music, the sound seamlessly shifts to filling the entire theater. Unfortunately, the sound balance between the singers and the orchestra was sometimes off in the intimate space, but this was the only misfire in an otherwise professional-quality production.
The vast array of costumes (Debi Carroll, assisted by Elspeth Grindstaff and Catherine King), including a seemingly endless supply for Janet alone, and hair and makeup design by Maureen Roult bring the 1920s back to life with plenty of glam and glitz.
One special note about this production: I have never before witnessed so many spontaneous mid-show outbursts of applause. Almost every character receives exit applause at some point. The outpouring of enthusiasm after each song reflects how fully the cast sells the material and how well Eric Kennedy connects with the audience. Being part of a crowd that so obviously wants to be there is the cherry on top of a wonderful theatrical experience.
And that brings us back to the deeper meaning behind this whole piece. Theater can bring people together, form connections, make us feel seen. It can also be an escape. At the end of the piece, Man in Chair may still be alone in his apartment, but he feels a little less lonely. That’s what art does best, and LTA’s production is a shining example of that magic.
Running time: One hour and 35 minutes without an intermission.
The Drowsy Chaperone plays through June 6, 2026, at The Little Theatre of Alexandria, 600 Wolfe Street, Alexandria, VA. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8 pm and Sunday at 2 pm. To purchase tickets ($36, reserved seating), go online, contact the Box Office via phone (703-683-0496), or email boxoffice@thelittletheatre.com.
The playbill for The Drowsy Chaperone is online here.
The Drowsy Chaperone
Music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison
Book by Bob Martin and Don McKeller
Produced by Jennifer Thomas
Directed by Krissy McGregor
Music direction by Owen Posnett
Choreography by Benjamin Simposon
Assistant producers: Sonia Bronder and Karen Maline
Megan Fraedrich is an actor, director, playwright, marketing professional, and enthusiastic audience member. A lifelong DMV denizen, she has taken part in over 50 theater productions in the area since elementary school, most recently playing Rosalind in As You Like It (Globe Openstage) and assistant-directing Our Town (Sterling Playmakers). She is also the Artistic Director of Independent Theatre Company in Springfield, Virginia, where she recently edited and co-directed The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly: Shakespeare’s Kings and Queens. She lives in Fairfax with her husband.
