The Most Underrated Broadway Musical Revivals of the Past 25 Years

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

There are the revivals that sweep the Tonys. The ones that make headlines and break box office records and get the glossy souvenir program treatment. And then… there are the quiet ones. The misfits. The overlooked gems. The shows that opened, dazzled, and closed before most people knew they were even playing.

This list is for them. The revivals that maybe didn’t run long, or win big, or trend on theatre social media —but absolutely deserve more love.

Violet (2014)

Let’s start with the one I’ll go to bat for anytime someone asks, “What’s the most underrated Sutton Foster performance?” It’s this. Her work in Violet was raw, grounded, and gloriously unglamorous. The musical itself is a deeply human road trip through faith, trauma, and hope—and Jeanine Tesori’s score is just stunning.

The staging at Roundabout was spare but effective, allowing the cast to carry the weight of the story without spectacle. It didn’t need spectacle. It had heart, authenticity, and a truly vulnerable leading performance. This wasn’t about razzle-dazzle. It was about honesty. And it delivered that in spades.

110 in the shade (2007)

Audra McDonald could sing the contents of a grocery list and I’d be seated—but her performance in 110 in the Shade was something else entirely. She brought a quiet ache to Lizzie that made the whole show feel urgent and modern.

This revival took a dusty, often-dismissed musical and found the storm inside it. Steve Kazee and John Cullum were perfect scene partners, and the whole production had this bittersweet, sunburned glow. It wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be—it trusted the material. And when you’ve got Audra in peak form? That trust pays off. This one deserved more flowers.

She Loves Me (2016)

I will never understand how this revival wasn’t the toast of the season. Every single detail—from the fizzy orchestrations to the candy-box color palette—felt like Broadway at its most joyful. David Rockwell’s Tony-winning set design was pure theatrical magic: the parfumerie spun open like a music box, full of hidden compartments and whimsy, inviting us into a world where romance still lived around the corner.

Laura Benanti gave a masterclass, Jane Krakowski defied gravity in heels, and Gavin Creel…we miss you so much.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood (2012)

This one was just plain fun. And we don’t talk enough about how hard that is to pull off. Drood is a strange little show, and this revival leaned into the camp, the chaos, and the audience participation with total confidence.

Stephanie J. Block was a force, Chita Rivera was radiant, and Will Chase made a meal out of every melodramatic moment. The whole cast felt like they were having the time of their lives—and invited the audience to join in on the joke. It was smart without being smug, silly without being sloppy. And let’s be honest: we need more shows like that.

Big river (2003)

This production was revolutionary—and somehow still doesn’t get the legacy treatment it deserves. By pairing deaf and hearing actors in the same roles, Deaf West cracked open the meaning of communication and storytelling in ways Broadway hadn’t seen before.

Big River isn’t an easy show, but here it became a layered meditation on freedom, friendship, and language itself. The staging was fluid and intimate, the performances were unforgettable, and the show’s message landed in ways I’d never considered before. It didn’t just revive a musical—it redefined the form. This should be required viewing in every theatre history class. Yes, it was that important.

Side Show (2014)

I’m still mad this didn’t run longer. The original Side Show has always been a cult favorite, but this revival deepened the emotion, clarified the narrative, and gave us Erin Davie and Emily Padgett as two of the most emotionally compelling sisters Broadway has ever seen. The orchestrations were darker, the staging more cinematic, and the characters given richer backstories that made the whole thing hit harder.

Now, it’s true—this one didn’t win over everyone. Audience reviews were mixed, and some folks missed the campy charm of the original. But for those of us who connected with it, it worked. Deeply.

It challenged what it means to be seen, to be loved, to be whole in a world that calls you “other.” It was bold, compassionate, and unafraid of its own heartache. It may not have packed the balcony, but it absolutely earned its place in the revival canon.

Finian’s Rainbow (2009)

A problematic favorite, yes—but this revival somehow made the impossible work. This production walked a fine line between honoring the old-school charm and acknowledging the show’s outdated politics. Kate Baldwin was luminous, Cheyenne Jackson brought real sincerity, and the chorus danced like joy was their only job.

The orchestra sounded like a golden-age dream, and the satire (when played smartly) still landed. It didn’t pretend to be something it wasn’t—it simply said, “Let’s tell this story, and let’s do it well.” And it did. It deserved a longer run, and honestly, a little more credit for pulling off the impossible.

the threepenny opera(2006)

This one was messy, I’ll give you that. But it was intentionally messy—and that’s worth something. Alan Cumming, Cyndi Lauper, Jim Dale, and Ana Gasteyer turned this revival into a smoky, sleazy, unhinged cabaret of corruption and cynicism.

The critics were confused. Audiences weren’t sure what they’d just seen. But that’s kind of the point. Threepenny isn’t meant to be clean—it’s meant to get under your skin. And this revival leaned into the grit instead of trying to polish it away.

On the town (2014)

I’ll never forget how this production felt. From the first note, it was like being swept into the best MGM musical you never knew you needed live. Tony Yazbeck danced like Gene Kelly with a soul full of story, and the orchestra actually sounded like a full symphony—because it was. The physicality, the comedy, the romance—it all clicked.

This show is often treated like a fluffy relic, but this revival gave it purpose and weight. There was care and craft in every moment. It reminded us that joy and big, beautiful music still matter. And they do.

The apple tree (2006)

Kristin Chenoweth doing three roles in one night should’ve been a bigger event. It was like a one-woman Broadway sampler: she was hilarious, vulnerable, commanding, and effortlessly in control of a show that asks a lot from its leading lady. Each act—different story, different tone, different world—was handled with crisp direction and big-hearted comedy.

Sure, The Apple Tree isn’t a perfect musical. But this revival leaned into its charm and its weirdness and said, “Let’s have fun.” And when Broadway is allowed to be weird and wonderful? That’s when it feels most alive. This revival knew that, even if nobody else did.

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Title Photo: Gavin Creel and Jane Krakowski in She Loves Me (Photo: Sara Krulwich/NY Times