Here is the opening of Jesse Green's review of Bad Cinderella in The New York Times:
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First: Bring earplugs.
Not just because the songs in “Bad Cinderella,” the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical that opened on Thursday at the Imperial Theater, are so crushingly loud. The dialogue, too, would benefit from inaudibility.
For that matter, bring eye plugs: The sets and costumes are as loud as the songs.
If there were such a thing as soul plugs, I’d recommend them as well.
That’s because “Bad Cinderella” is not the clever, high-spirited revamp you might have expected, casting contemporary fairy dust on the classic story of love and slippers. It has none of the grit of the Grimm tale, the sweetness of the Disney movie or the grace (let alone the melodic delight) of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical. Instead, it’s surprisingly vulgar, sexed-up and dumbed-down: a parade of hustling women in bustiers and shirtless pec-rippling hunks.
Finally, a Cinderella for streetwalkers and gym rats!
