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Retelling the story of the scandals that swamped the administration, Clinton resurrects an awful lot of that dignity-free era: Whitewater and Paula Jones, Contract With America, the government shutdown, cigars and stained dresses. There's even the macarena.

About the only shoutouts missing are to Morris' toe fetish and William Rehnquist's impeachment robe.

If your idea of an evening that is pleasant "depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is", then this show provides a fine time.

Karl Kenzler as WJ the statesman and Duke LaFoon as Billy the party animal are quite good. Alet Taylor wrestles the tougher, more layered role of Hillary to a draw. Adam Arian's direction is smooth, the singing uniformly strong and the lyrics in songs like Sexual Relations and No often clever.

Even if the music isn't memorable, at least there are no Fleetwood Mac singalongs.

But the humor is relentlessly low, with Lewinsky under a desk and Starr in studded leather straps and black fishnet undies.

As 2016 draws closer, a debate grows over whether, politically, there may or may not be Clinton fatigue. Theatrically, at least, two tediously juvenile hours make clear: There certainly can be.

The New York Times