Maybe Happy Ending is a Korean musical that began in a small theater in Seoul. Set in a future Seoul where people own humanoid helper robots for household chores and companionship, it tells an intimate story against a futuristic backdrop. After the show won six Tony Awards in 2025, including Best Musical, the Broadway venue was packed. I had bought my ticket before the announcement, and a family behind me mentioned how ticket prices had risen after the awards.

When I entered the auditorium, the black screen displayed the title in both Korean and English. Even the souvenirs bore Korean writing, such as 화분 (the plant pot). Seeing this alongside the Korean signages of BTS, Samsung, LG, and other K-culture ads around Times Square made me feel how real the growth of Korean culture has become.

As the show was originally created for a small theater, I wondered how it would adapt to a larger proscenium. The opening revealed only part of the black screen, which magically slid open to Oliver’s modest yet colorful flat. His Hwaboon (화분), old turntable, and stacks of magazines subscribed by his previous owner James Choi set the scene. Oliver’s movements—part robotic, part human—showed the advances of his third-generation model. His peaceful routine was interrupted by a knock from the decharged female helper robot next door, a fifth-generation model with more fluid movement but unstable charging. Their interactions grew warmer; Oliver, a creature of habit, now waited for her visits. She hardwired herself to a wall outlet, no longer needing his charger. As they opened up to each other, Oliver shared that he believed his owner had not abandoned him, that he was waiting for his call from Jeju Island. Claire, in turn, spoke of wanting to see fireflies—now only found in Jeju, the last place where such natural wonders survive. The use of the black backdrop to display search results was simple yet apt.

The Broadway production transformed the stage into a living interface. The front curtain moved like touchscreen gestures, opening and closing with precision to mimic digital zoom. Portions of the set expanded or contracted, with clean x- and z-axis translational movements creating cinematic framing in a live environment. The memories of Claire and Oliver were projected onto the black screen with subtle finesse, heightening emotional moments. Equally impressive was the rotating room sequence showing Oliver’s memories with James Choi - an efficient, visually engaging way to shift time and space without breaking the narrative flow. Minimalist yet technologically inspired, this design elevated the storytelling and made the stage feel like an extension of the robots’ world.

Korean elements were woven throughout with restraint. Korean words appeared alongside English on the stage screen, a small but warm touch. When Oliver mentioned wanting to visit “CheChu Island,” I realized it referred to Jeju Island, Korea’s southernmost island, renowned for its beauty and fireflies. In the future world of Oliver and Claire, it felt believable that Jeju could be the only place where fireflies remain. Even the hotel they stayed in resembled affordable lodgings familiar in Korea today. These details made me, as a Korean, feel at home while still allowing audiences worldwide to relate.

Oliver and Claire, as robots, are free from stereotypes, and the casting reflects that flexibility. Darren Criss brought depth and charm to Oliver, and Claire Kwon, who fittingly shares the same name as her character, delivered a heartfelt performance. I later read that Darren would soon leave, with Andrew Barth Feldman stepping in for a limited run - a casting I would be happy to see. Since Oliver and Claire’s identities do not depend on ethnicity, what truly matters is the heart and depth the actors bring to their roles. The show also plans a North American tour, giving more talented performers the chance to take on these characters. In Korea, Maybe Happy Ending is set to return this fall, and I wonder whether they will use the original Korean staging or bring the Broadway version. Since I have not seen the original, I would appreciate experiencing it as first conceived; however, for audiences who missed Broadway, I hope they bring that version, as it was one of the most unique and captivating designs I have ever seen.

The music was refreshingly jolly rather than grand, with an upbeat energy that gave the show its own charm. Rather than overpowering the story, the score danced lightly around the emotions of the characters, making their tender moments all the more poignant.

Watching Oliver and Claire’s relationship unfold also made me reflect on the nature of emotions. Robots and AIs may only integrate data and learn how to express care, yet they can believe those expressions to be feelings. If databased helperbots think they are in love, how different is that from humans, whose emotions arise from brain activity triggering hormones? Still, I do not believe robots feel emotions as humans do - and I hope they never truly do. It could be wonderful, but also unbearably painful. Maybe Happy Ending reminded me that what makes emotions precious is not only that we feel them but that they come with vulnerability, something no machine should have to endure.

In the end, what matters most for this show is not ethnicity but how convincingly the actors deliver the story. Language shapes delivery, and while looks can play a role in entertainment, it is talent that makes the audience believe. Both Darren Criss and Claire Kwon brought this world to life, proving that heart and skill matter far more than anything else.

Nice plot, great staging, upbeat and modern music, and catchy lyrics — all of these make Maybe Happy Ending a show that feels fresh, heartfelt, and unforgettable.