Celine Dion is more than a vocalist; she is a cultural monument. From the sweeping emotional heights of “My Heart Will Go On” to her residency-defining presence in Las Vegas, Dion represents a specific brand of maximalist glamour. It is this larger-than-life persona that serves as the engine for Titanique, a musical spoof that has finally made its way to the St. James Theatre after a journey through the Off-Broadway scene and a successful run in London’s West End.
For those tracking the trajectory of the production, the move to Broadway was almost inevitable. After garnering Olivier Award recognition in London and a welcoming reception during its 2022 Off-Broadway debut, the show arrives in Midtown with an expanded scale and a high-energy cast. However, while the production values have grown, the comedic sensibilities remain stubbornly rooted in the lowbrow, leading to a Titanique Broadway review that finds the show struggling to stay afloat under the weight of its own puns.
The premise is simple: an arch-diva version of Celine Dion narrates the tragedy of the RMS Titanic, treating the historical disaster as a mere backdrop for her own brilliance. Marla Mindelle, who co-wrote the book and stars as Dion, delivers an uncanny impression that is the show’s strongest asset. Her commitment to the role is absolute, capturing the precise blend of sincerity and ego that makes the character work.
High Production Value, Low-Hanging Fruit
Visually, the Broadway iteration is a triumph of technical coordination. The set designers, Gabriel Hainer Evansohn and Grace Laubacher of Iron Bloom Creative Production, have created a space that feels suitably opulent. What we have is complemented by Paige Seber’s lighting and Lawrence Schober’s sound design, while Alejo Vietti’s costumes ensure the cast looks every bit the part of early 20th-century aristocrats—or, in the case of the narrator, a modern pop icon.
Yet, the lavishness of the staging stands in stark contrast to the writing. The book, penned by Mindelle, Constantine Rousouli and Tye Blue, relies heavily on a relentless barrage of profanity and juvenile innuendo. In a 90-minute runtime, the script leans on the “f-word” and “s-word” not for shock value or character development, but as a primary comedic tool. When the biggest laughs in the room are elicited by basic obscenities rather than clever satire, the production begins to feel less like a sharp spoof and more like a sketch show that has overstayed its welcome.
The puns are equally exhausting. The script frequently revisits nautical double entendres—most notably repeated jokes regarding “seamen”—delivered with a self-satisfied wink to the audience. For a show that aims to satirize a cinematic masterpiece, the humor often feels beneath the talent of the people performing it.
A Cast Outperforming the Material
It is a testament to the ensemble that the show maintains its energy despite the thinness of the material. The cast is formidable, featuring a blend of seasoned Broadway veterans and high-profile talent. Melissa Barrera brings a necessary groundedness to Rose De Witt Bukater, while Deborah Cox is a powerhouse as the “unsinkable” Molly Brown. John Riddle handles the role of Cal Hockley with the appropriate sneer, and Frankie Grande provides a spirited turn as Thomas Andrews.
One of the more curious casting choices is Jim Parsons as Ruth De Witt Bukater. While Parsons’ comedic timing is as precise as ever, he is occasionally undermined by costume choices—specifically a bird-themed hat—that feel more like a distraction than a comedic choice.
The standout moment of the evening belongs to Layton Williams, who plays the Iceberg. Williams, who previously won an Olivier Award for the London production, anchors the show’s most exhilarating sequence: a full-bodied reprise of the Ike and Tina Turner classic “River Deep, Mountain High.” The number, written by Phil Spector, Jeff Barry, and Ellie Greenwich, is delivered with an explosive energy that reminds the audience of what this cast is capable of when given a song with genuine power.
Production Credits and Cast Breakdown
| Role/Function | Artist/Professional |
|---|---|
| Director | Tye Blue |
| Celine Dion / Book | Marla Mindelle |
| Rose De Witt Bukater | Melissa Barrera |
| Molly Brown | Deborah Cox |
| The Iceberg | Layton Williams |
| Ruth De Witt Bukater | Jim Parsons |
The Class Divide of Comedy
There is a line delivered by Molly Brown in the show: “Money can’t buy you class.” In the context of the plot, it is a jab at the rigid social hierarchies of 1912. In the context of the production, it serves as an unintentional critique of the show itself. Titanique possesses the “money”—the lighting, the costumes, the star power, and the venue—but it lacks the “class” of a truly sophisticated satire.
The result is a production that feels fragmented. On one hand, you have a group of exceptionally gifted performers executing a visually stunning show. On the other, you have a script that seems convinced that today’s audiences are most responsive to “sour dialogue” and crude puns. The tension between the high-end execution and the low-end writing creates a viewing experience that is more tiring than it is exhilarating.
For those who enjoy the camp of a drag show or the unapologetic vulgarity of certain adult comedies, there is plenty to love here. But for those seeking a witty deconstruction of James Cameron’s 1997 epic, Titanique may feel like a voyage that never quite finds its destination.
The production is currently running at the St. James Theatre through July 12, 2026. Tickets and further scheduling information can be found at the official site, titaniquebroadway.com.
As the show continues its Broadway run, the industry will be watching to see if the production can sustain its momentum through the summer season or if the novelty of the premise will eventually fade. The next major checkpoint for the production will be the mid-run critical assessments in June, which typically determine if a show has the legs for a potential extension.
Do you think the “lowbrow” approach to musical satire works for modern Broadway, or should spoofs lean more toward wit than vulgarity? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
