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.
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While none of the cast truly look like their real-life counterparts, it’s not an impersonator show in Las Vegas, after all, Grace Gaddy’s Lucille Ball is, when all is said and done, a loving tribute to the iconic comedian. From her expressive eyes and impeccable comic timing to the way she embodies Lucy’s signature blend of glamour and goofiness, Gaddy gives a performance that’s joyously alive. Her physicality and facial expressions elicit hearty laughter while paying true homage to one of television’s greatest icons. My only hesitation in a giving Gaddy’s Lucilly Ball a full five star review rests on the fact that Gaddy’s choice of voice isn’t quite there. Yes, Lucille Ball’s real-life voice was quite different from her quicker, higher-pitched Lucy Ricardo voice, but Gaddy, try as she may, never quite hits the mark vocally. Of course the average Keeton audience member will easily overlook this because of Gaddy’s otherwise full-force embodiment of the iconic comedic actress. It should be noted that Gaddy’s Lucy is at her best not only when recreating a few classic I Love Lucy moments–her lip-smacking, face-pulling expressions during a quick look at Vitameatavegamin is indeed near-perfection–but also during scenes that show the rarer more vulnerable moment of the woman behind the legendary laughs.
Even though he plays the man upon whose book this play is based, Michael Welch has the benefit of playing someone most people have never seen and whose physical appearance isn’t as easily recognized as the four stars of the groundbreaking sitcom. That anonymity works to Welch’s advantage as he simply shines as Jess Oppenheimer, serving as the grounding force amid the behind-the-scenes chaos. His balance of humor and sincerity keeps the story engaging and human. His scenes between Gaddy’s Lucy and Rainwater’s Desi truly exemplify Oppenheimer’s role as both close friend and trusted collaborator in the creating of one of the world’s most beloved sitcoms.
Musically, this expanded version of the show delights with nostalgic selections that evoke memories of classic I Love Lucy episodes, including I’ll See You in C-U-B-A, Friendship, California Here I Come, and the beloved I Love Lucy theme song, complete with a bit of a did you know who wrote it spoiler and Rainwater and Gaddy singing the rarely heard lyrics. Enhancing the musical score throughout, frequent Keeton musical director Roger Hutson’s piano recordings add a lighthearted, era-appropriate touch, while Steve Love’s sound design, Brooke Sanders’ lighting, wig design by Alison Gaddy (loosen up those wigs so they look more natural and like the real-life ladies they’re styled after) and Denese René Evans’ costumes work in harmony to transport the audience straight to midcentury Hollywood. Evans’ costumes throughout are quite fun and seemingly period authentic, I do wish that Lucille’s Emmy dress was accurate, through…again, I’m just being an overzealous Lucy fan.
In spite of my above-reference initial hesitations and a strangely tepid Opening Night audience (Note: it’s ok to laugh out loud and to applaud after a particularly entertaining scene) and what could probably be chalked up to first night jitters from the cast resulting in the majority of Act 1’s delivery being a tad flat with several lines coming across as monotone with not real inflection and somewhat memorized, rather than convincingly felt and delivered with punch, those initial hesitations faded once the cast found their groove. 
Jay Sullivan is chilling as Count Dracula. He doesn’t simply linger 
Opposite him, Sullivan’s performances is beautifully balanced by Brian Webb Russell who gives a gravely controlled performance as Abram Van Helsing, anchoring the heroic opposition with clarity of intent and moral weight. Russell’s Van Helsing offers the perfect amount of sharp intellect and righteous urgency. His verbal sparring with Sullivan’s Dracula are electric—two forces circling each other in a battle of will and belief.
The trio of Lane Adam Williamson’s Renfield, DéYonté Jenkins’ Norbert Briggs and Catherine Gray’s Margaret Sullivan are tasked with carrying a bit of dark humor that helps temper the heavy suspense.
Then there’s Logan’s costumes. Every costume a work of art. The female cast members regal and radiant in finery fitting the period of the action. Van Helsing’s leather wardrobe, perfectly fitting for battle. Renfield’s asylum attire tattered and torn, but with a hit of glamour by way of some blinged-out blood spots. But it’s Dracula’s wardrobe that is truly glamorous and entrancing. From his first appearance bare-chested, but corseted in black to a black jacket accented with blood-red beaded erratic epaulets when he returns from a mysterious night right. (Gotta love that this particular look gets no mention within the context of the play, but is a jarring visual clue to the most astute audience member). The beauty of that costume not without merit, my personal favorite is yet another black jacket and pants combination. The jacket, from one side appears nothing special as the hem hits just below the actor’s waist, but from front view, its asymmetrical as the other side is more the length of a morning coat. Perhaps another visual clue of the duality of the wearer? Just when you think Logan’s used up his bag of costume tricks, in the final scene Dracula appears the most sparkly transfixing figure yet, but I’ll let you experience that on your own.
What impresses most about this DRACULA is how it leans into its horror while refusing sentimentality. McNulty’s choice to portray Dracula as predator (not tortured romantic) is honored here. That clarity gives other elements room to breathe: the trauma of Lucy’s affliction, Mina’s struggle with memory and agency, Van Helsing’s moral burden, Seward’s scientific disbelief challenged by the impossible.
At the center of the action is Philip David Black as the suave, gambling man Sky Masterson. Black brings the expected effortless charisma mixed with the perfect blend of uncertainty that only unforseen love can cause. His Luck Be A Lady is smooth and sweet, showcasing his ability to walk the line between rogue and romantic with ease. His chemistry with Rebekah Howell’s Sarah Brown is electric, especially in the Havana sequence where sparks (and drinks) fly. Howell, ever the vocal powerhouse, lends depth and sincerity to the morally upright mission worker. Her rendition of If I Were a Bell, a charm-filled Act 1 highlight.
It comes as no surprise that Brian Charles Rooney’s Nicely-Nicely Johnson is a true showstopper. With impeccable comic timing and a dynamite voice–gotta love that sopranista range–Rooney brings down the house in the rollicking Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat—arguably the night’s most rousing number. He’s well matched by Jahi Emaud’s Benny Southstreet, whose swagger and harmony work are equally sharp. If you’re reading this, Studio Tenn, I’ve got your Wallace and Davis cast for your upcoming holiday production of White Christmas right here with these two!
The Hot Box numbers are just plain fun, led with style and precision by Kelsey Brodeur (also serving as dance captain), alongside the effervescent Madison Crosby, Emily Stephens, and Allie Spengler. Their ensemble work perfectly sizzles thanks to playful choreography courtesy Allison Little, who keeps the movement crisp and era-appropriate while still leaving room for individual character. With Stein’s Adelaide, the Hot Box Girls’ performance of A Bushel and a Peck (one of my personal favorite Doris Day tunes, recorded the year the Broadway musical debuted) wonderfully presents the flitatious innocence of such numbers from that era.
Where character portrayal is concerned, Clue could be considered a bit of a theatrical anomaly. Typically actors stepping into roles made famous by others are charged with making the character their own, but Clue, a true farce, almost demands that the company present the characters pretty much as those who portrayed the roles in the film had done. That’s not to discredit the actors in any way, but to thank them for brilliantly recreating moments and actions of the film to glorious life live on stage.
John Shartzer’s Mr. Green (the Michael McKean role in the film) is the scene stealer of the show. With precise comedic timing, hilariously deadpan reactions and borderline acrobatic slapstick movement, Shartzer is suspect Number 1 is so many ways.
For The Keeton’s presentation, co-directors Maguire and Gray have enlisted a great mix of newcomers and seasoned performers including
Now, back to the show…From the character’s initial entrance, Lloyd offers the first broken fourth wall as he stops the action on stage when one of the actors misses a prop cue. Carmichael’s Lloyd bellows from the audience and the fun begins. The actress Lloyd chastises for missing her cue is none other than Ann Street-Kavanagh, as middle-aged actress Dotty Otley, who’s playing the housekeeper in the show-within-a show. Street-Kavanagh is perfect for the role of Dotty as she’s never better than when she’s playing it a bit confused and daft. Like Lloyd, Dotty is also embroiled in a love triangle. All Dotty’s Nothing On character wants to do is put her feet up and enjoy the the telly. Oh, and did I mention she enjoys a snack of sardines? Worth noting, since a plate of the fishy snacks result in much of the show’s hilarity when left about, or taken off, cluing the other visitors in Nothing On that they’re not alone in the house.