Mamma Mia! returns to Broadway at the Winter Garden Theatre as a sit-down engagement, using staging and production values developed for touring. In Broadway terms, a sit-down refers to a tour-based production settling into a Broadway house, prioritizing consistency and repeatability over reimagined staging. The result is a show that feels immediately familiar to audiences who have encountered it around the world, including in licensed productions, while still offering the pleasure of seeing it unfold in a Broadway theatre.

That sense of familiarity is reinforced by the scenic language. The current West End production’s return to fully manual scene shifts can be read as a conscious production choice rather than a technical retreat, and the Broadway staging follows the same philosophy. It is exactly the same version I saw in the Korean licensed production as well, with one notable change: instead of enclosing the stage in a box-like structure, the production now opens the space by using multiple layers of curtains with the same pattern placed along both sides of the stage. Small details stood out across versions, even down to Donna’s overalls—intact straps here, a missing one in Korea—reminding us that interpretation often lives in the smallest choices. In a story where Donna literally fixes her own house with an electric drill, a stage sustained by visible human effort rather than mechanical precision feels thematically consistent. Since I have never seen a mechanically tracked version of the production, I cannot make direct comparisons.

Because Mamma Mia! is one of the rare musicals whose songs and sequence I know almost by heart, I nearly skipped it in favor of shows I had not yet seen. I was also concerned that I might find myself observing rather than enjoying it. Instead, I was completely immersed. The experience became a reward in itself, bringing back memories of seeing the show at the Winter Garden 20 years ago.

Sophie stood out as the strongest Sophie I have seen across both Broadway and Korean productions. She sang cleanly, landed her notes without strain, and maintained clarity throughout the role. Vocally and dramatically, she carried the part with confidence and precision, allowing the character to emerge through sound rather than typecasting.

Donna delivered strong belting in the larger numbers and projected clearly within ensemble passages. However, she had a habit of extending notes and introducing vibrato in mid-range, softer pieces such as Slipping Through My Fingers. Artistic autonomy should be respected, but the elongated phrasing made me slightly anxious.
Tanya and Rosie, on the other hand, were very effective, with comic timing sharper than I expected. Chiquitita has sometimes felt like a stretch dramaturgically as a moment of consolation, but their interaction and acting made it fit naturally within the scene. Their Super Trouper, as well as Tanya’s Does Your Mother Know and Rosie’s Take a Chance on Me, drew warm laughter from the audience.

The three fathers were also strong. Sam Carmichael sang with a rock-inflected sound—which I appreciated—and acted with strong dramatic emphasis. Harry sang Our Last Summer gently while accompanying himself on guitar, and he was the only character to consistently use a British accent. The reference to Four Weddings and a Funeral, delivered when Donna sees the amount written on Harry’s check, still lands effectively.

Sophie and her two friends blended well vocally, and the Dynamos also harmonized strongly and suited their roles. Sky spoke with a naturally deep baritone voice that mellowed when singing. Pepper was well cast and convincingly youthful enough to appear as a potential son to any of the Dynamos. At the curtain call, the cast’s visible excitement at the audience response felt sincere—something I often notice in tour-based productions, where performers seem especially appreciative of the crowd.

The orchestra was conducted by Will Van Dyke, who also played the piano. Sitting in the front row of the orchestra section, I could see that he was singing along and clearly enjoying every moment. During the curtain call, it was a pleasure to watch the guitarists and bassist playing along with the drummer, boxed in at the back center. I hailed them and received a response after the exit music ended.

The audience clearly enjoyed the show, with many people singing along. While this felt expected and harmless during large ensemble numbers, off-key voices during quieter, more intimate songs were genuinely disruptive. Early in the performance, I also saw an usher firmly address an audience member who was recording the show; that visible enforcement was reassuring.

While I do not recall many detailed specifics of the show I saw at the Winter Garden 20 years ago, I remember the Korean licensed production well, having seen it just a month ago. One difference that stood out in this Broadway sit-down was the presence of a bicycle with sky-blue wheels, visible at curtain up and holding Donna’s diary in a hanging basket. I do not recall seeing this element in previous productions, and I found it slightly odd given the steep, stair-filled landscape of a hilly Greek island.

Another moment of recognition came with the reference to the “Orpheus Bar.” When I encountered this line in the Korean production, I assumed it might be a localization choice, partly because the actress playing Sophie had previously played Eurydice in Hadestown. Hearing the line confirmed here as part of the original text was an amusing coincidence.

Because I attended during Broadway Cares weeks, I intended to buy a signed Playbill, but only posters were available. While I enjoyed the Korean licensed production, it still felt right to hear ABBA sung in its original language, where all the nuances remain intact.