Theatre in Review: The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (New World Stages) When the revival of this long-running musical was announced, I grumpily thought, So soon? We just had it. (All right: It was twenty years ago; so sue me. And it ran for three years. So there.) Having seen this thoroughly delightful revival, however, I now think we should get it once a decade, as a showcase for up-and-coming talent. The original production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee advanced the careers of Celia Keenan-Bolger, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Dan Fogler, Jose Llana, and Lisa Howard. Danny Mefford's revival meets that ante and raises it. His cast captures the musical's singular quality, its deep appreciation for its chorus line of teen/tween oddballs spiked with raucous, standup-style zingers; it's a hybrid that yields pure entertainment. In a production that could be called New Faces of 2025, two stand out: As Olive Ostrovsky, emotionally abandoned by her parents (her mother has fled to an ashram and her father hasn't coughed up the bee's $25 entrance fee), Jasmine Amy Rogers is unrecognizable from her star-making turn last season as Betty Boop. Shapeless in a frumpy sweater-and-slacks combination (costume designer Emily Rebholz cunningly reworks several cast members' silhouettes), sporting a blowout hairdo and unflattering eyeglasses, she is the essence of woebegone youth. ("Miss Ostrovsky came in second in her school's Halloween contest," we are told. "I was roadkill," Olive helpfully adds.) As in Boop!, her way with a song can't be beat: She makes a touching thing of "My Friend, the Dictionary," a portrait of growing up neglected, and she earns a well-deserved ovation with "The I Love You Song," a fantasy reunion with her self-involved mom and dad. Clearly, we're still getting to know this remarkable young talent. The season before Boop!, Justin Cooley made an enormous impression as a shy, sensitive Jersey teen in Kimberly Akimbo. Here, as the singularly named Leaf Coneybear, he embraces his inner goof. Seemingly dressed for a Godspell revival ("Mr. Coneybear makes his own clothes," we learn) and the runt of a pack that includes siblings Marigold, Brook, Pinecone, Raisin, Landscape, and Paul, Leaf is a second runner-up, on hand only because his betters have a bat mitzvah to attend. Amusingly outfitted with a bike helmet, taking unexpected pratfalls, and launching into a fugue state to deliver correct spellings, Cooley's characterization adds a sweetly deranged note, especially in the charmingly assertive "I'm Not That Smart." Not as well-known but no less gifted are Philippe Arroyo as the hapless Chip Tolentino, who flops out of the bee for reasons detailed in the lament "My Unfortunate Erection;" Autumn Best, winsome and lisping as Logainne SchwartzandGrubenierre, who has two gay dads and "is president of The Pronoun Club at her elementary school;" and Leana Rae Concepcion as the stressed and overscheduled Marcy Park, fighting back at those would underestimate her in "I Speak Six Languages." (She also has a priceless bit involving a Rubik's Cube.) Slouching, muttering, and looking like he swallowed a pickle, Kevin McHale is the bizarre William Barfee ("There's an accent aigue!" he insists, to no effect) who spells out correct answers with his "magic foot." It's a characterization several country miles from his phlegmatic Artie Abrams on the TV series Glee, and it provides him with a notable New York theatre debut. Representing the older generation are Lilli Cooper, deadpanning her way to big laughs as Rona Lisa Peretti, erstwhile bee champion turned color commentator, Matt Manuel as Mitch Mahoney, former trainer turned grief counselor, who ushers each loser off stage with a consoling box of fruit juice, and Jason Kravits, as vice-principal Panch, handing out words, definitions, and usage while struggling to avoid an emotional meltdown. The show's audience participation element, with several "contestants" recruited into the competition, adds a wild-card improv comedy aspect. One audience member, given the word "pineapple," asks for usage in a sentence; Panch replies, "Billy quickly downed five pineapple margaritas and then came out to his parents." The sentence for "cystitis?" "Sally's mother told her it was her cystitis that made her special." Kravitz's clinical, adenoidal line readings result in reliable hilarity throughout. Rachel Sheinkin's book has been revised, providing updated gags about Nancy Pelosi and Zohran Mamdani, or perhaps the script simply leaves the actors with plenty of room to maneuver. ("Have you ever been in a gymnasium next to a production of Heathers before?" Logainne asks Leaf, referencing the neighboring show at New World Stages.) This is not one of William Finn's deeply personal shows, like Falsettos or A New Brain , but his comic appreciation of these psychological ragamuffins contributes to the nuttily tender-yet-unhinged atmosphere. Mefford also choreographed, ensuring that the number "Pandemonium" lives up to its name. Everything else, including Teresa L. Williams' school gym set (complete with "bully-free zone" posters), David Weiner's lighting, Tommy Kurzman's hair and wig designs, and Haley Parcher's sound design, is tip-top. Interestingly, this revival and the recent opening of Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York) are making the case for small-scale, just-for-fun musicals, which, arguably, is a message that needs to be heard just now. In any case, if you drop in at New World Stages, you'll meet several young people whose careers will be well worth following. --David Barbour 
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