Why Some Like It Hot Feels Like a Necessary Gift

by Avery Anderson

At a moment when most of us are mainlining bad news through our phones like it’s a competitive sport, there’s something quietly radical about sitting in a theater and — brace yourself — enjoying yourself.

That’s the not-so-subtle power play behind Some Like It Hot, which lands at Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall January 21–25. It’s loud. It’s tap-heavy. It’s unapologetically old-school. And in 2026, that almost feels transgressive.

This is not prestige misery. This is not “important” theater that asks you to admire it from a respectful distance. Some Like It Hot is a full-throttle musical comedy that believes — audaciously — that joy is still a valid artistic objective.

And yes, it’s based on the 1959 MGM film. No, you don’t need to have seen it. This isn’t nostalgia cosplay.

“Ninety percent of what you see in the film, you’ll see on stage,” said Matt Allen, who plays federal agent Mulligan. “It’s all that MGM grandeur put together in a musical.”

But the key word there isn’t old. It’s together.

With music by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman and a book by Matthew López and Amber Ruffin, the show keeps its 1933 setting while letting modern ideas quietly slip in through the side door. Not with a lecture. With craft.

“It’s written and updated through a modern lens,” Allen said. “But it still embodies all the traditional structure of song and dance with the comedy and the original score.”

Translation: this is a Golden Age musical that knows it’s living in a very different century — and doesn’t panic about it.

Allen’s role is less about showstopping numbers and more about narrative propulsion. Mulligan is the dogged federal agent chasing a mob boss named Spats Columbo, the connective tissue that keeps the plot moving while the disguises, romances, and misunderstandings pile up.

“The words that I say are so strategically and perfectly written,” Allen said. “A lot of my scenes are just promoting the storyline.”

That precision matters. Big musicals only work when someone is actually minding the machinery.

What’s striking, though, isn’t just how polished the show is. It’s how unapologetically pleasant it is — a word that feels almost suspect in today’s arts landscape.

Allen remembers what his mother said after seeing the show in Madison, Wisconsin.

“I just spent two hours and forty minutes smiling the whole time.”

Not laughing nonstop. Not being dazzled into submission. Smiling.

“It’s not because it’s all comedy,” Allen said. “It’s about good moments and good feelings… before you realize it, you’ve been smiling for two and a half hours.”

In another era, that might sound quaint. In this one, it feels borderline subversive.

“Sometimes we give people that escape without them even realizing they need it,” Allen said. “Just to unplug from doomscrolling, unplug from their everyday world.”

That’s the quiet thesis of Some Like It Hot: that entertainment doesn’t have to apologize for itself to be worthwhile.

Underneath the jokes and tap breaks, the show is about transformation — about people becoming more themselves after their lives are knocked off course.

“People find themselves in their journeys,” Allen said. “And you have to celebrate those journeys.”

It’s also about the lost art of leaving a theater humming something you didn’t know you’d memorized.

“Those old-fashioned musicals have catchy hooks,” Allen said. “Before you know it, you’re humming this tune.”

Earworms, as Allen put it, are good for business. They’re also good for the soul.

For Sarasota audiences, Some Like It Hot isn’t just another Broadway tour passing through. It’s a reminder that not everything has to be grim to be meaningful — and that sometimes the most generous thing theater can do is let you forget yourself for a while.

In 2026, that’s not escapism.

That’s survival.

If You Go

What: Some Like It Hot
When: January 21–25, with evening and weekend matinee performances
Where: Van Wezel Performing Arts Hall
Why: Because two and a half hours of joy, tap dancing, and brass-forward musical comedy currently counts as self-care
Get tickets: vanwezel.org