By Fern Siegel (Posted 7/12/24)

The Empire State Building, completed in 1931, is 102 stories high — and a stunning example of Art Deco architecture. The sheer majesty of the structure has awed generations. Lewis Hines famously shot photos of its construction workers. The iconic building, featured in TV shows and films, was named one of the Seven Wonders of the Modern World by the American Society of Civil Engineers.

In short, its aspirational themes — and the people who envisioned the project — are inherently theatrical. Located at 350 5th Avenue, the imposing edifice, coupled with its observation deck, has delighted visitors for nearly 100 years. And Empire, the original off-Broadway musical at New World Stages, which has been kicking around in various incarnations for years, captures much of its history.

The feel-good musical, with book, music and lyrics by Caroline Sherman and Robert Hull, records the 14-month task of building the once-tallest skyscraper in the world. It has a lively first act, setting the stage for the politics, social machinations and personal sacrifices that defined construction. But it’s the rousing “Moxie” number that trumpets the desire to rise above the Depression-era blues and channel the American can-do spirit.

The acting, lighting and choreography are strong, and director Cady Huffman has engaged a solid cast, led by the exceptional Kaitlyn Davidson as Frances “Wally Wolodsky,” the woman behind the man, in this case, former Gov. Al Smith (Paul Salvatoriello), who ran the enterprise. Wally is credited here with executing the massive project with sass and smarts. The song “Wally Works/Never Say Never” captures her myriad talents. (One cast exception is Albert Guerzon as architect Charles Kinney, who doesn’t quite click in the role.)

What’s missing, a major visual omission, is any projections of the actual Empire State Building — or its construction. That would have done much to illustrate its wonder and numerous challenges.

The musical, which pours a lot of concrete issues into the mix, reveals both the macro concerns — the political and economic demands on the architects and Smith — and the micro, the lives of the immigrant laborers, including Mohawk Indian ironworkers. The dangerous aspects are lightly addressed. More dramatic tension would heighten the narrative.

And it’s an fascinating — and important — story to tell.

Built on the site of the former Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, the project was ambitious from inception. Political pressure deemed it had only 14 months to complete. (One World Trade Center, built after 9/11, took six years.) To introduce audiences to the times, the music and choreography is vintage 1920s/early 1930s. The joint is jumpin’.

The issue is how the story is rendered: What began as the Al Smith Building morphed into the grandeur of the Empire State Building. Then there is the personal story of loss, told by Sylvie Lee (played at my performance by understudy Julia Louise Hosack), who tragically loses her father during site construction. Multiple story lines can complement the action — if they merge into a greater whole.

Empire has a lot of positives — and real potential. While it debuts with energy and verve, it slows down in act two. We get a series of ballads that are lovely, rather than memorable. Having a time countdown, illustrating the many pressures, from wealthy socialites demanding the mayor stop the project to hitting crucial deadlines, would add weight to the show. Still, Lorna Ventura’s choreography is period-perfect, Jamie Roderick’s lighting design nicely captures time and place, as does Shannon Slaton’s sound design.

Plus, there are many audience-pleasing numbers and singular personalities to make this New York story enjoyable. But to be as great as the building it salutes, Empire needs to up the stakes. After all, pushing the limits is what the Empire State Building was all about.