When a jukebox musical is built as the biography of the singer behind the songs, it has one clear advantage. It follows the person's life. Famous songs fit naturally into the story. The music also brings back the atmosphere of its time. Frank Sinatra was not only a singer with countless hits such as My Way and New York, New York, but also a film actor. Following his life while hearing those familiar songs again turned out to be more interesting than I expected.

Joel Harper-Jackson did not try to imitate Sinatra's signature crooning too closely. Instead, he chose a clean vocal style with restrained bending. He also avoided an exaggerated American accent, which made his singing sound natural. At first, I thought his voice was quite different from Sinatra's. As the show went on, however, I came to like this interpretation. In the second half, he appeared in a blue suit and hat, singing and dancing with his hands in his pockets. The image naturally reminded me of the young Sinatra.

The other characters, including Phoebe Panaretos as Sinatra's first wife Nancy Sinatra, used a much breathier style with more bending. It was not really my preference. I assumed this was an attempt to recreate the sound of the 1940s. Then, in Act Two, Billie Holiday tells Sinatra to "bend every last note in a phrase," and he takes her advice to heart. That line made me pause. Billie Holiday is one of my favorite jazz singers, and I enjoy her bending very much. The show made me wonder whether my standard for singing is simply personal taste, or whether it changes with different periods and genres.

One staging idea was especially clever. Sinatra and Lana Turner first appeared together on a bed rising from below the stage. After they pulled the blanket over themselves, the actress reappeared as Judy Garland, and then as Marlene Dietrich. Earlier, Hedda Hopper had mentioned that the actor wearing the red shoes from The Wizard of Oz was having an affair, so Judy Garland came to mind immediately. Marlene Dietrich needed only her signature pose to be instantly recognizable.

I was also curious how the musical would handle Sinatra's alleged ties to the Mafia, especially since his daughter Tina Sinatra served as creative consultant. The production did not avoid the subject. Instead, it connected it naturally to his pride in his Italian heritage.

Sinatra's image at the height of his career is so strong that I had simply assumed he had been successful from the beginning. I had been especially impressed by From Here to Eternity. The musical showed the setbacks before that success and his eventual comeback. That was something I had not known. One memorable scene showed Harry Cohn repeatedly rejecting Sinatra's requests for film roles. Then one day he called to say another actor had dropped out and offered him the role in From Here to Eternity. The moment captured the beginning of Sinatra's comeback very effectively.

Among Sinatra's children, only Nancy Sinatra appeared in the musical. She was never called by her name. Frank called her by her nickname, Moonbeam. I already knew she was a singer because I liked Somethin' Stupid, which she recorded with her father. Using only her nickname gave their relationship a warmer and more personal feeling.

Ana Villafañe gave Ava Gardner strength without losing her warmth. Jenna Russell was equally impressive as Dolly Sinatra. She played a firm mother who never hesitated to speak her mind. The funniest line of the night came when Frank was asked, "Do you love your mother?" He replied, "Of course. In small doses." It was a perfect joke. The single word dose captured both his affection for his mother and the realistic distance people sometimes need from constant advice. Later, his usually quiet father said that love should be expressed and danced with his wife. It was a warm scene. As soon as it ended, he became quiet again, which made it even funnier.

Lee Zarrett portrayed George Evans as an exceptionally loyal aide. He rolled his R's much more heavily than the rest of the cast and spoke with an exaggerated American accent that often drew laughter from the audience. After the performance, I found that he is a New York native. I wondered if he had deliberately emphasized a classic New York accent from Sinatra's era. His repeated lines to reporters—"Write that." and "Don't write that."—perfectly summed up the character. The scene in which he returned to Sinatra as his manager and then died shortly afterward was the saddest moment in the musical.

Near the end of Act One, Sinatra suddenly appeared performing at the Copacabana. The transition felt a little abrupt. However, I liked the ending of the scene. At the beginning of the musical, the band in the Benny Goodman show wore the initials "BG." By the end of the show, the initials had changed to "S." It was a simple but effective detail. In the final number, Nelson Riddle took over the conducting. The bandleader, now sitting to one side, kept looking over at him. It was a small detail, but I enjoyed noticing it.

My Way has been covered by so many singers that it has become almost too familiar. I liked the song when I first heard it in high school, but over the years it had lost some of its impact. In this musical, however, it appeared at the moment when Sinatra decided to move forward during the lowest point of his life. That gave the song a different meaning. Rather than simply presenting a series of famous hits, the musical wove them naturally into the story. It showed one of the strengths of a biographical musical.

I have never been a particularly devoted Frank Sinatra listener. Still, it was a pleasure to hear songs I had liked for many years, such as From Here to Eternity, Somethin' Stupid, and Fly Me to the Moon, together with the big band sound of the 1940s and 1950s. Learning more about Sinatra's life was meaningful. More than anything, the familiar songs gained a new context. That was the most rewarding part of the production.