Patrick Cassidy

There are holiday shows that entertain, and then there are holiday shows that wrap you up—the kind that feel like stepping inside a snow globe of music, memory, and pure theatrical joy. Studio Tenn’s production of Irving Berlin’s White Christmas, now dazzling audiences at Turner Theater at The Factory at Franklin, is very much the latter. Under the direction of Patrick Cassidy, with a warm nod to the story’s cinematic origin, and powered by a starry, tap-happy cast, this beloved classic arrives with all the shimmer and heart audiences expect, plus a few luminous surprises. With opening night snow, showstopping choreography, and voices that echo the golden age of movie musicals, this White Christmas may well be Studio Tenn’s most enchanting holiday offering yet.

Cassidy’s interpretation of the fan favorite feels like exactly what a holiday musical should be—a big-hearted confection wrapped in nostalgia, polished to a glossy Broadway shine, and delivered by a cast who understand that style, sincerity, and spectacular dance numbers are the holy trinity of this beloved classic.

While White Christmas traditionally seems best suited for a larger venue, Andrew Cohen’s picture postcard scenic design works perfectly with Turner Theatre’s more intimate space. By presenting the inn and other key sets with a more minimalist approach, ie smaller set pieces on casters, while focusing the heft of his set design on the barn, which serves as backdrop to most of the larger all-in cast numbers, Cohen adds to the action, rather than drawing too much attention from it. Devon Renee Spencer’s sumptuous costumes, from those pink and green holiday costumes early in Act 1 and her take on Betty’s solo gown to the iconic finale garb are a wardrobe wonderland themselves. Darren Levin’s painterly lighting brilliantly coveys mood scene by scene. These craftspeople combined with Scott Brons’ lush musical direction, and the production glows from first tableau to that highly-anticipated, but much-loved final snowfall.

But the secret to White Christmas has always been its quartet at the center: two entertainers, two sisters, four hearts that collide, resist, and inevitably soften under falling snowflakes and Irving Berlin’s irresistible melodies. Studio Tenn’s leads deliver beautifully.

Ben Laxton, as the steady, dry-witted Bob Wallace, anchors the show with clean vocals and a grounded charm that never attempts to mimic Bing Crosby, but instead finds a sincerity and warmth all his own. His rendition of Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep lands with a quiet power—simple, heartfelt, and beautifully sung.

Laxton pairs especially well with Lisa Karlin’s Betty Haynes, whose rich, velvety alto brings a classic, old-Hollywood elegance to every number she touches. Her Love, You Didn’t Do Right By Me—a personal favorite moment of mine—was delivered with haunting restraint, channeling Rosemary Clooney without imitation and earning one of the night’s strongest responses.

On the other side of the romantic coin, Jeremy Benton and Elizabeth McGuire ignite the stage as Phil Davis and Judy Haynes. Benton, not stranger to area theatre audiences, was last seen in Nashville as Bert in Nashville Rep‘s 2022 production of Mary Poppins, is also no stranger to the role, having performed in the National Tour of  White Christmas and incredible 7 seasons. Speaking of previous connections to the show, Benton’s on-stage love interest McGuire, who’s making her Studio Tenn debut in the show, has previously appeared in two regional productions of White Christmas. Not only do they match the flirtatious comedic energy required of the roles, they also jointly co-choreographed the production—an ambitious undertaking given the show’s dance vocabulary is steeped in the iconic work of Randy Skinner. The result? Pure joy. Their The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing is dreamlike and precise, but it’s the Act II taptastic extravaganza I Love a Piano that stops the show cold…or should I say Hot! Benton’s dancerly ease and McGuire’s crisp, buoyant tapping create the kind of musical-theatre electricity audiences hope for in December. They honor Skinner’s lineage while injecting fresh life into every step.

And speaking of ensemble numbers, Snow—another of my personal from the film—receives a full-throated, all-in treatment here. The boxcar becomes a bustling world of anticipation and winter wonder, and the cast–in particular Richard Daniel as The Snoring Man–leans into every comedic beat and harmonic swell. It’s impossible not to smile.

In comedic and heartwarming supporting turns, Megan Murphy Chambers (Martha) once again proves she can steal an act with one number. Her Let Me Sing and I’m Happy blends powerhouse vocals with effortless comedic bite—she lands every quip, every side-eye, and every belted high note with the precision of a seasoned pro. Belting lyrics like “if my song can start you laughin’/can start you cryin'”with humor and heart, rest assured MMC can and does! Chambers is a jewel in the crown of area theatre folk. She’s an entertainer’s entertainer. Equally at ease whether tasked with comedy or sincerity. Her scenes with Curtis Denham‘s General Waverly check all the marks perfectly hitting the highs of broad comedy and the more subtle genuine moments between two longtime friends. Speaking of, Curtis Denham brings a grounded gravitas to General Waverly, avoiding caricature and instead offering a touching portrait of a leader rediscovering purpose. Rounding out the primary cast is young Frankie Lou Lauderdale, who simply charms instantly as Susan (Preslee Siebert also plays Susan at some performances). Lauderdale delivers the pint-sized earnestness gives the storyline its heart. I’ve always found it interesting that in the original film, Susan is General Waverly’s adult granddaughter, but for the stage adaptation, Susan is presented as a young girl. I does indeed add a more family-oriented dynamic and Lauderdale’s Susan provides the right amount of youthful sweetness combined with moxie, as proven in her cheer-inducing ambitious rendition of Let Me Sing and I’m Happy.

As for the rest of the cast, the bench is equally deep: the aforementioned Richard Daniel’s more prominent role, Ezekiel will surely cause audience members to mimic his “AyYup” response throughout the holiday season. Douglas Waterbury-Tieman doubling as Mike McNulty and Ralph Sheldrake showcase his ease with frenzy and calm, respectively. Rita and Rhoda, the zesty pair of chorus girls continually vying for attention from Benton’s Phil, are played to the coquettish hilt courtesy of Anna Claire Perry and Maria Logan–charmed, I’m sure, INDEED!

The ensemble—Kelsey Brodeur, Allison Little, Christine Toole, Alex Dee, Jordan Long, Isaiah Mayhew, and David Benjamin Perry—executes Benton’s and McGuire’s choreography with dazzling precision, tapping, swirling, and harmonizing through the show’s most technicolor moments.

Of the 2018 national tour, which featured Benton, in my review I once wrote of the show’s “glistening, gleaming, smiling, singing, happy, tapping, merry-making” energy, Studio Tenn’s White Christmas delivers all of that and more—scaled for intimacy but performed with unabashed Broadway ambition. Director Cassidy tips his hat to the timeless film, but never becomes trapped by reverence; this is a production that understands nostalgia is most magical when it feels freshly lived, not simply recreated.

By the final chorus of White Christmas, as snow drifts across Turner Theater and voices swell in perfect harmony, Studio Tenn captures the exact blend of warmth and spectacle that has made this musical a December tradition for generations.

A radiant, tap-happy holiday spectacular anchored by four outstanding leads, scene-stealing supporting turns, and choreography that honors the classic while blazing its own bright trail. As the final notes fade and the snow gently settles across the stage, Studio Tenn’s White Christmas leaves its audience warmed, smiling, and perhaps even humming an Irving Berlin tune on the walk back to the parking lot. It’s the rare production that satisfies longtime devotees of the film while welcoming newcomers into its cozy embrace—proof that nostalgia, when handled with artistry and heart, can still feel brand new. With exceptional performances, lovingly rendered design, and choreography that taps straight into holiday magic, this production is more than a seasonal outing—it’s a gift. And like all the best gifts, it lingers long after the curtain falls. As Laxton and Karlin‘s Bob and Betty suggest by song in Act 1, Count Your Blessings, and this year those blessings certainly include Studio Tenn‘s White Christmas.