The long-awaited Broadway revival of Chess opened for previews in October 2025. This is a review based on the preview matinee on November 1. It contains extensive spoilers, so take it as such.
I want to start with this: from the perspective of performances and the score, this was an unmitigated triumph. The show is enjoyable from front to back, and the leads repeatedly bring down the house - especially with "Nobody's Side," an absolute powerhouse from Lea Michele. Aaron Tveit's "Pity the Child" and Nicholas Christopher's "Anthem" are also stunning. So as I'm critical of the musical, please take it in context: I loved this show and seeing it on Broadway was the thrill of a lifetime.
The revival is extremely minimalist. Very little set dressing is ever used, and at some points this really spoils moments that could've been helpful in terms of storytelling. I prefer minimalism to maximalism; the over-dressed sets and complex revolves of the Trevor Nunn versions are not superior.
Danny Strong's revised book is based, largely, on the London script, using some changes that were part of the 2008 concert revision. Obviously the idea that the concert would provide a "definitive" version has not panned out. It cuts several numbers, including "Commie Newspapers," "Merchandisers," and "Talking Chess."
The audience member has to decide whether or not they like the Arbiter as a cheeky fourth-wall-breaking narrator who does a lot of the narrative work. Some will find that this is an effective way of putting forward a rather involved plotline; others will find it heavy-handed and mistrusting the audience. Given that the London score's story is as muddy as it is, and had begun the Arbiter-as-narrator premise without fully leaning into it, I think it does more good than harm.
I do think that on the whole, Strong's attitude, his wit and irony, are not a perfect match for Tim Rice's material. That does lead to a good chunk of tonal whiplash in the show. However, this isn't as severe as it can be during the Richard Nelson (Broadway) and Robert Coe (US Tour) scripts, where the characters can seem like different people during the book scenes and the songs.
The Arbiter announces that it is a Cold War musical, and the script leans into that. It begins with "US vs. USSR" and situates the first act against the 1979 SALT II negotiations and the second around the 1983 Able Archer negotiations. (I've noted in the past that this sacrifices chess accuracy - the relevant championships were in 1978, 1981, and 1984 - for Cold War relevance.) The number is not a great opener but it serves to underline Strong's point.
A wise move is borrowing the Moscow setting for "Where I Want to Be" from Stockholm. By my watch this placed the "I want" number at ten minutes into the show, which is a crucial structural point that the London script completely dropped. However, the scene introducing it does put the Soviets into the "win or we shoot you" school of villainy that is a bit over-the-top (as I've written previously). This will continue with threats against Svetlana and Anatoly's children in Act II. However, a fellow theatregoer noted that she felt more involved with the high stakes, so perhaps one can't complain too much.
I'm deeply uncomfortable with the idea that Freddie is not just an asshole American but is actually seriously mentally ill and using medication. This is a significant Act I plot point - at Walter's prodding, Florence will end up hiding Freddie's pills and contribute to his breakdown. I think this makes Florence more culpable in the production's grey morality, and it doesn't sit too well with me.
Walter's role does need to be addressed: he is basically only there as a plot convenience, representing the American position in negotiations. In the first act, he opposes both Freddie winning, and Anatoly defecting - to the point where he tries to tip Molokov off about the latter. In the second act he's helping Molokov because of Able Archer. None of the original character's duality - his mixed implication in the media or business end and as an ambiguous CIA agent - is preserved. He really has no redeeming qualities, and very little music, with a lot of his London recitative converted to dialogue. He even repeats the same sob story once in each act, to strong audience laughter in the second. As a result he is by far the weak link in the production.
A positive angle that Strong introduces is the idea that Florence and Anatoly previously had an encounter in Stockholm. I like this for a couple of reasons. First is that it stretches out the arc of their love affair - it isn't love after a few minutes, it's people who probably had an ill-advised encounter (that was romantic but explicitly not sexual) and reconnect in a desperate situation. This was a weakness in the motivations for Anatoly's defection. The second is that it is realistic - the chess world is small and people meet each other.
Wisely, Strong does little meddling with the "well oiled machine." Another move that will split audiences is how the chess match between Freddie and Anatoly is handled, with the players speaking their moves and then monologuing. The weakness in staging is that we never see an actual chessboard, making the game a bit too abstracted.
Likewise, the minimalism really impacts the storytelling when, before "The American and Florence," we are told Freddie is tearing up his hotel room, looking for microphones in the walls. That's a good idea, but it's a moment where I really wanted to see it. But it was followed up by a "Nobody's Side" that, just like in the Kennedy Center, knocked my socks clean off.
One of the few pieces of staging that is provided is a bed, used for "Heaven Help My Heart." Having Anatoly and Florence together in this context more or less makes the song work in Act I; it certainly works better than it did in the London version where it really does feel like Florence sings because it's her turn to sing.
Turning to the problematic Act II. I have to give credit to Strong for two particular positives in his handling of the second act.
One is the treatment of Svetlana. Hannah Cruz is absolutely stunning in the part, and Strong manages to make her a fairly complex character. Giving her "He is a Man, He is a Child" is one of the strongest moves, but she also manages to make her part in "The Deal" an almost seductive moment. Her concerns feel genuine, as is a moment where Anatoly calls her out - she feels like a flawed person with her own arc. Also playing her as a blonde bombshell against a brunette Florence works very well; it reminds me of Stockholm in some ways.
After "He is a Man...", Strong more or less cheats London-style, running through some strong numbers and hoping that they string together logically. He re-edits "The Deal" in a way that works, but the audience also comes close to applause fatigue with "Pity" before "I Know Him So Well"; happily the cast is strong enough to simply power through the numbers. I did enjoy that "Talking Chess" was replaced with a dialogue scene tat works fairly well.
Okay. So far I have been pretty complementary, I feel, even if I have some notes. But I felt like the major structural problems were in "Endgame" and after.
"Endgame" is played under the threat of nuclear war, as Anatoly is supposed to lose so that the Russian generals won't retaliate if any munitions go off during NATO training exercises. That background is, in my opinion, far over the top; the personal stakes should be high enough.
One weird misstep is that the verse of Endgame that Tim Rice gave to Freddie in the 2008 concert was instead given to Walter. "Sixty-four squares, they're the reason you know you exist" makes so much more sense for Freddie and none whatsoever with Walter. This is sort of mitigated by giving Freddie some of the chorus's lines during the later portion - which comes across very strongly.
But a serious directorial crime is playing a countdown over Anatoly's finale in "Endgame." Nicholas Christopher pours his heart and soul into Anatoly's stirring words - except there's a ton of noise and you struggle to hear them. Awful decision, no other way to put it.
After this, the decision is made to have "Someone Else's Story" sung by Florence. Yes, after "Endgame." It's sort of a wistful ballad moment - but Florence already sang "I Know Him So Well" and her verses in "Endgame" that told us she understood her affair with Anatoly couldn't last. It feels like it's there pretty much because Florence is singing the song again and it needed a spot. I feel like there should be a way to make this work; but I'm not convinced it was really earned.
The handling of "You and I - Reprise" is my least favorite decision in the show. The duet is cut in half, and uses the deeply inferior rewrite lyrics. This has never worked well in any production; I want the whole thing, and I prefer it as the final number with the original lyrics. But perhaps it's a case of the audience not knowing what they're really missing.
The thing is, the show gives Florence her father back. It comes off as a happy ending, rather than the relentless negativity of the 1988 Broadway version, and I think it may actually succeed because of it.
The Arbiter closes out the show with a couple of lines from "The Story of Chess." Which. I don't know, I like the show to end on "We go on pretending, Stories like ours, Have happy endings." That's my preference, it has been for twenty-odd years; I've gotten to have it my way a few times, so I can't complain that much. At least it doesn't end with too much Walter followed by the "Anthem" reprise.
There are things I'm not happy about. At the same time, I think this has more likelihood of succeeding than the 2008 London concert would, or if the rumors that the Stockholm production would be brought into English had come through.
Would I do it differently? Of course. Am I over the moon that a good version of Chess is on Broadway? Yes.
