Lea Michele and the cast of Chess. Photo: Matthew Murphy
In 2008, before a two-night Chess concert at the Royal Albert Hall in London, lyricist Tim Rice reflected on the beloved, broken musical he wrote with Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus: “Chess has been that kind of wayward child—you know, that one on drugs that you hope will get right.”
We’ll spare you a complete chronicle of the show’s, ahem, checkered past; that’s why we have theater message boards and subreddits. Chess began in 1984 as a hit concept album: Murray Head’s electro-pop bop “One Night in Bangkok” topped the charts worldwide; to this day, Elaine Paige and Barbara Dickson’s “I Know Him So Well,” musical theater’s ultimate wife-mistress song, remains one of the U.K.’s top-selling duets of all time. The 1986 West End production ran for three years, despite a rocky start (director Trevor Nunn stepped in for the ailing Michael Bennett). However, the 1988 reworked Broadway version, with a dialogue-heavy libretto by playwright Richard Nelson, closed after only two months, launching Chess into the pantheon of prized but probably unproduceable musicals. Rice, the aforementioned ABBA composers, and pretty much anyone else with a licensing deal and a dream have been trying to wrangle that wayward child ever since.
Now, Tony-winning director Michael Mayer (Spring Awakening) and Emmy-winning writer Danny Strong (creator of TV series including Empire and Dopesick) are playing the game, to borrow one of Rice’s phrases, in the musical’s first-ever Broadway revival, a shamelessly enjoyable production that puts the spotlight on its best asset: the score.
[Read Bob Verini’s ★★☆☆☆ review here.]
If you’ve never seen, or heard, Chess, trust us. Every song is a banger, and the stars—Nicholas Christopher as Russian chess champion Anatoly Sergievsky, Aaron Tveit as American champ Freddie Trumper, and Lea Michele as Florence Vassy, a top chess strategist and the woman loved by both—know it. You’ll never hear a better “Anthem,” the sweeping love-of-country ode that brings down the Act 1 curtain, and the house, than Christopher’s. (Sorry, Josh Groban.) Tveit goes for broke—and hits every crazy high note—on the electrifying “Pity the Child.” And are these Rice’s best-ever lyrics? A personal favorite: “I see my present partner/ In the imperfect tense,” from Michele’s killer power ballad “Nobody’s Side.”
Whether Chess-heads—Chess-nuts? What’s the agreed-upon sobriquet?—will vibe with Strong’s overhauled libretto likely depends on their taste for metadrama. The role of the Arbiter (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder star Bryce Pinkham, needlessly amped up to 11) has been expanded into a genial, omniscient narrator who says things like “There are things you’ll see on this stage tonight that might seem a bit ludicrous, but I assure you some of this crazy shit actually happened.” A musical inspired by the 1972 Boris Spassky–Bobby Fischer chess championship and set against a Cold War backdrop does seem a bit ludicrous, so the wink-wink commentary is not unwelcome. What is unwelcome is the anachronistic RFK Jr.–brain worm joke (just…ick), not to mention the Joe Biden re-election jab (too soon).
But back to the chess. We “see” one match between the volatile, mentally unstable Freddie and the mechanical, detached Anatoly; cleverly, they face the audience, whispering their unfiltered thoughts into microphones. Freddie: “I don’t blame my father for leaving, but I still hate him for it. Pawn to D5.” Anatoly: “He doesn’t deserve Florence. She’s too good for him. Knight to C3.”
For those who miss the board and pieces, and complain that no chess is actually being played, have you ever watched a chess match? It’s not as exciting as The Queen’s Gambit makes it look. Florence, Freddie, Anatoly, and Anatoly’s estranged wife, Svetlana (Suffs breakout Hannah Cruz)—they’re the chess pieces. Russian coach/possible KGB agent Alexander Molokov (Broadway vet Bradley Dean, exceptional) and CIA officer Walter de Courcey (Sean Allan Krill) are moving them around; they want a say in who wins and who loses, to help smooth political tensions between the Soviet Union and America. And ultimately, the Arbiter is in control of the whole match.
Nicholas Christopher and the cast of Chess. Photo: Matthew Murphy
This all makes Chess sound rather dour, and it’s anything but. The show looks sensational: Lighting designer Kevin Adams washes the stage in American blue and Russian red, to eye-popping painterly effect (hang it in the MoMA!). The 16-member ensemble—equal to the number of pieces each chess player gets—moves with striking precision thanks to choreographer Lorin Latarro, whose ingenious dancers-as-a-moving-car bit in 2024’s The Heart of Rock and Roll is not discussed enough. The Act 2 curtain-raiser, “One Night in Bangkok,” is a buzzy delight, a twisty R-rated neon-drenched acro-ballet. (Is it my imagination, or are the women showing more skin than the men?) Then there’s Tveit in the middle of everything, Risky Business–style in his skivvies and shades, snorting coke off a woman’s raised calf.
There will be much ado, and much debate, about the ending—which we won’t reveal here. But it’s the 11 o’clock number, “Someone Else’s Story,” that’s bothering me. It’s a perennial problem; since Judy Kuhn debuted the song in the Broadway premiere, it’s been shuffled all over the show like a pawn. Sometimes it’s given to Svetlana. Sometimes it’s cut altogether—a real shame, because it’s a gorgeous song. Unsurprisingly, Michele’s rendition is wonderful, even if she’s plagued by sound-mixing issues (the 18-piece onstage orchestra can overwhelm the soloists). It just comes out of nowhere—an emotional moment manufactured simply to give the star a chance to shine.
It’s been 40 years—how long can we spend trying to fix all the fractured parts of Chess? I can’t help but think of kintsugi. Literally “golden joinery,” the ancient Japanese art form mends broken items such as pottery and gemstones with a mix of lacquer and powdered metal. The idea behind the process: Don’t hide the cracks; rather, celebrate their beauty. Embrace the imperfections.
Chess opened Nov. 16, 2025, at the Imperial Theatre. Tickets and information: chessbroadway.com
