Everyone else is essentially the way you remember them; Galavant, if nothing else, commits to the sitcom formula of keeping most of its characters largely unmotivated to change in any drastic way. But that’s okay, because otherwise we wouldn’t have the deliciously evil Madalena (Mallory Jansen), the clueless Gareth (Vinnie Jones), or the perpetually fearful Chef (Darren Evans); all of whom audiences will find remain inspired and amusing, even as they experience some unique pairings in the second season. You can also expect your usual roll call of celebrity cameos, including Sasse’s real-life significant other, Kylie Minogue, as a tawdry club owner, and even a mid-season pop-in of Nick Frost as a 5ft 10in “giant.”
But it’s really the songs that still give Galavant its revelatory edge. Last year’s “Jackass in a Can” and “No One But You” proved the show could produce some infectious earworms, courtesy of Menken and Slater, and it’s continued here (Menken wrote the score for The Little Mermaid, while Slater adapted it for Broadway).
There are big showstoppers, slower power ballads and raunchy pub numbers that all seem to come out of a magical alternate universe where a live-action Disney Princess movie got slapped with a PG-13 rating but still effortlessly worked. Even a bold pop culture jab concerning the installation of a democratic election – for straight white guys only – extends the show momentarily into rudimentary, but amusing political satire. As Galavant admits, “It’s pretty progressive for the middle ages.”
Thanks to all of the rapid-fire, ping-ponging lyrical alley-oops the show makes on an episode-by-episode basis, there’s a weaponized daftness and jittery energy to Galavant that’s nearly impossible to critique. Still, such out-there brazenness introduces the risk that all of these in-jokes and references and fourth wall breaking moments will bloat the show and bring it crashing down, but Galavant‘s central premise is – and I say this lovingly – dumb enough that all of the silliness added on top barely registers.
Of course the half-hour medieval musical sitcom would have odes to modern tv, with characters spouting anachronistic catchphrases like “big pimpin'” and unicorns that can sense when virgins are nearby. If Galavant overstayed its welcome, it’d be easy to begin nitpicking the show apart, but since it doesn’t, it’s easier to embrace the weirdness.
From theater geeks to comedy fans, there’s a lot for everyone to like about the show, since – and again I say this as a fan – it doesn’t exactly require much out of you as a viewer. I consumed seven episodes nearly back-to-back with a dumb grin that never left my face, and I plan on doing it again when the episodes air in January. Between this and the similarly themed (if narratively tighter)Â Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, there’s a renaissance of sorts for musical comedies on TV right now that spells good fortunes for networks as big as ABC, who are willing to take a chance on something so intrinsically weird as – try not to sing it –Â Galavant.
