Last night Donald Trump's reality show, "The Apprentice," returned for a seventh season with a twist, a cast filled with "celebrities" playing for charity. I used to love "The Apprentice" in its early seasons. While nothing lived up to the intense, dog-eat-dog drama of the first season, its follow-ups included a handful of memorable applicants and all sorts of cringe-inducing, schadenfreud-tastic moments (No. 1: S2's Ivana pulling down her skirt in the middle of New York City to sell a candy bar). But the show went downhill fast, and I called it quits after the infuriating conclusion to Season 4, when supposed nice guy Randal dicked the awesome Rebecca out of a job just to be a petty show-off. I caught parts of Season 5, but it was pretty much a joke.

"Celebrity Apprentice" has jettisoned many of the ridiculous trappings that made the last season, set in L.A., a critical and ratings pariah. There's no "haves" or "have nots" (the losing team last year was forced to live in a tent, the winners in a mansion). It's back in New York, where the show obviously belongs. Unfortunately Carolyn and George are still out as Trump's viceroys, replaced by Trump's own kids, Ivanka (who is admittedly awesome) and Donald Jr. (who is even more of a chump than his dad).

The "celebrities" in question range from legitimately famous has-beens - Gene Simmons from KISS, "Taxi" star Marilu Henner, ex-supermodel Carol Alt, country star Trace Adkins - to the totally unfamous never-weres - Playboy Playmate Tiffany Fallon, Telemundo exec Nely Galan, "America's Got Talent" judge Piers Morgan, and actors/professional reality TV stars Stephen Baldwin and Vincent Pastore. There are also a bevy of sports stars, including boxing champ Lennox Lewis, Ultimate Fighting Champion Tito Ortiz, softball player Jennie Finch, and gymnast Nadia Comaneci, who literally didn't say a WORD last night.

The most exciting member of the cast is Omarosa, the "villain" from the original "Apprentice" who did a lot to make that show so memorable. Since then Omarosa has been a member of "The Surreal Life" and appeared on assorted other reality shows, including "I Love New York." Omarosa is well known as a crazy bitch, but the bottom line is that she's smart, tough, and compulsively watchable. The minute she's gone I'll probably give up the show again.

That's because, while it was an improvement over the last couple seasons, it still wasn't great. The celebs don't really care about whether they win or lose, and they lack the desperation that makes the regular applicants so fun to watch. We're unlikely to get any full-scale meltdowns because they already have their own gigs. However, we might get some diva behavior, and we got a touch of it last night from Omarosa, Carol, and Piers.

The teams were split up by gender, chose team names (women: Emprasario; men: Hydra), and tasked with selling hot dogs. Stephen took the lead for Hydra, Omarosa for Emprasaro. (And I thought she did a great job.) I was surprised by how oddly charming Gene Simmons was. He's a very weird dude, and I don't think he'll last long because Trump won't have a clue what to make of him. But underneath that hideous helmet of hair and ridiculous shades was an endearing nutbag who got shit done. I was also surprised by how much I instantly hated Pastore. He's awfully full of himself for a guy who was on "The Sopranos" for two seasons like 10 years ago, and since then has become a reality TV joke, dropping out of (I believe) both "Celebrity Fit Club" and "Dancing with the Stars." He's an idiot. And Piers Morgan has no right to attack Omarosa for being a nobody; most people will be surprised to discover that he's not actually Simon Cowell, whose act he has completely lifted for his third-rate summer show.

In the end the right person got the boot (Tiffany will not be missed), and there were a couple people I found myself rooting for (now when I think of Marilu Henner I'll remember her outstanding salesmanship, and not her literary appeals for my poop to be floaters, not sinkers). I'll watch the next episode. But it's still nowhere near the "Apprentice" of yore. I guess that's why we've got DVD players...

Last night NBC brought back that staple of 1990s Sunday morning syndication, "American Gladiators." Whenever I got to skip church (and it wasn't often; I was a choir boy) I'd watch as often as I could, hypnotized by the giddy stupidity of it all (apparently I was also a redneck). Spandex, muscles, and all of the body-slamming my young adolescent mind could take: it was heaven. So I was initially elated to hear about NBC's plans to bring the show back as a prime time project. But then the initial promos started running and I got worried. The costumes were muted, the gladiators themselves seemed bland. It just looked like NBC was taking the whole thing too seriously. And, like, what's to take seriously about "American Gladiators"?

I needn't have worried. The new "Gladiators" is a hoot, bringing back most of the best facets of the original (Hang Tough! The Arsenal! The Eliminator!) and adding legitimately engaging hosts (Hulk Hogan and Laila Ali, in perfect casting). While I remain slightly skeptical of some of the new gladiators (there's no Blazer or Lazer in the bunch), the uncomfortably monochromatic Titan and the ridiculously over-the-top Wolf are genuinely intimidating, and kind of fun to root for.

And I do root for the gladiators in general, because I love seeing the smack-talking dopes that challenge them get thrown around like ragdolls. We got a lot of that in last night's two-hour episode, and it was fantastic. (Upon seeing one poor bastard flipped off The Pyramid and crash down at least four levels, my brother exclaimed "This is my new favorite show!") I cannot bother to remember the names of the cattle that were fed through the shoots last night, but the firefighter from New York was impressive, as was the ballsy lady who won the second hour thanks in part to some pretty amazing moves avoiding the mannish Fury on Hang Tough. I was glad the little spidermonkey dude won for the guys in the second hour, because the boastful putz he was up against was a real chud. And I felt bad for the ex-Marine woman who split her head open while swimming under an iron bar in The Eliminator. She was a tough broad.

But I howled at most of the rest of it. People being battered by huge padded weapons? Check. People getting shot in the ass by a cannon-fired tennis ball going 100 MPH? Check. People clinging on to The Travelator and writhing as their opponents pass them and win the whole thing? Check and double check.

Last night was awesome, and I'm definitely in for tonight's broadcast at its regular time. Ignore the critics who bitch about the vacuity of it all. It's "American Gladiators," not Hercule freaking Poirot. It's supposed to be mindless entertainment for the masses, and with the writers' strike robbing us of so many great shows (I am going through "Office" withdrawal...) we could do a whole lot worse.

Now bring on those skinny jackasses for the public humiliation of their lives. Yeeeeee-haw!

You do not know how hard it was to not march into my room at 11:01 last night and post this. So angry!

So the challenge was to create a prom dress for one of a gaggle of New Jersey Catholic school girls. Sounds like fun, right? (Minus the New Jersey school girl part.) For most of the episode it WAS fun, and the very nice designers were all supportive and cheerful and delightful. And then at the runway, things went horribly wrong.

It's funny, because I was thinking when the episode started that the judges have pretty much gotten it right this season; that there haven't been any egregiously early  bootings a la Allison in Season 3. So I think I might have jinxed it. This was one of those cases where the judges got just about everything wrong, from the selections for the top to the selections for the bottom and especially in the winner and loser.

I've been saying that Kevin's getting robbed for weeks, but boy did he really get screwed last night. Admittedly his dress did suck--there wasn't a thing I
liked about it--but it was in no way worse than the monstrosity Ricky (RICKY!) sent down the runway. I started getting worried when the Hammer of Foreshadowing started pounding via Chris as poor Kevin's personal Greek chorus ("Fix the heee-eeem, fix the heee-eeem!"). I mean, it did look cheap. But it wasn't the worst thing on the runway by far and if you look at his overall body of work as compared to, oh, I don't know, RICKY's, it was a crock. A total crock.

Ricky is undeniably now the Vincent of the season. They keep dragging him along for reasons that escape me. Do they think he's good television, with all the crying and the ugly pleather hat that seems to be permanently attached to his head? Because he is not good television. I want to fast-forward whenever he's on. The judges even said last night that every week he sends down something ugly that is poorly finished. Then why is he still here? You don't like his designs, you don't like his construction--send the loser home! He's still less obnoxious than Vincent, but not by much. And he becomes more and more delusional as each week passes. He thought that hot mess looked good! That hem was INSANE!

As for Christian...I don't know. I actually didn't hate the dress, although the back was for sure a nightmare. Much like his client. I agree that he handled her with, like, zero tact, but she was straight-up obnoxious, that classic teenager who knows more than you do and has been told her entire life
that she is the most special thing EVER. Entitlement is a disease, and it is killing our country. Anyway, he handled the situation really poorly, and his defeatist attitude made him even less sympathetic. But I still kind of felt bad, because those judges let him have it. I do like Christian. I don't know why. He's totally supposed to be the bitchy villain, but...I don't know. He's oddly endearing to me.

Victorya for the win? Surely you jest. I quite liked the overall design of the dress, but that bedazzled breastplate thing looked straight out of Fashion Bug's clearance rack. Hideous. And I didn't like the color, either; way too strong for that girl's pale skin. I wasn't as enamored of Sweet P's dress as everyone
else. It was gorgeous, no doubt, but so simple that it looked like something you could have gotten right off the rack. But when it came down to the two of them for the win, I was going for Sweet P all the way.

I knew Rami was in for it as soon as I saw that color, and I agree that cut was very Woman of a Certain Age. But I thought it was well-constructed, as opposed to Jillian's, whose boobs were all over the place. It figures that the one week I like Chris March's outfit he gets completely ignored. And Kit's had some personality, but it wasn't a prom dress. I mean, what girl would actually wear that to a prom?

Overall I was really excited when I learned about the challenge (prom! I ddn't really like mine, but I love the idea of it), but mostly disappointed by the results. I'm especially annoyed at Kevin's tossing. And heaven help me, if we don't jettison Ricky within the next two episodes there will be blood. At this
point I like almost every designer left and if that hack continues to advance while others are left bruised and abused on the side of the catwalk, I
will...just sit on my ass and watch, I guess. But I will not be happy about it!

I had high hopes for "Make Me a Supermodel," the new Bravo modeling competition that debuted last night. Bravo typically does competitive reality shows right, with the notable exception of "Top Design," which was beyond awful. And I'm a sucker for a modeling show-I even liked VH-1's short-lived "The Agency." But after sitting through an hour-long debut that felt more like two hours, I'm not sure this one's going to take.

"Supermodel" will inevitably be compared to "America's Next Top Model," so let's just get that out of the way. The new show has two notable differences from its predecessor: 1) It features a mix of guys and girls (six of each; "ANTM" is solely a women's competition) and 2) it also includes a live voting component, as America ultimately decides which model goes home each week. Beyond that the shows concern the same kinds of tasks, as the would-be posers take photo shoots, walk the runway, and get poked and prodded by people from "the industry."

However, "Supermodel" is missing a key ingredient in "Top Model"'s success: camp value. The girls on the average season of "Top Model" can expect to pose nude covered in candy, or pretend to be desert animals while sitting on a crocodile, or become flowers, or work as high-fashion gargoyles (really!). And while over-the-top judge/host Tyra Banks regards the proceedings as a life-changing experience, there's always a little wink-wink/nudge-nudge going on in just about every episode. There's an underlying silliness to the proceedings, an acknowledgement that the whole thing is kind of superficial and stupid.

Based on its first episode, "Supermodel" takes itself entirely too seriously. There was no sense of fun in the premiere episode (no, Perry's pathetic Zoolander jokes don't count), and that's after the contestants spent a good third of it in underwear or less. While the best Bravo shows mix that seriousness with an intelligence and a sense of giddy adventure ("Project Runway," "Top Chef"), there's none of the latter, and very little cleverness (although, to be fair, they're models). Co-host Niki Taylor is next to useless-where did she disappear to for more than half the episode?-although Tyson Beckford kind of rules. The rest of the panel is dullsville. I can't even be bothered to remember their names. Where is our Janice Dickinson?

As for the models themselves, they're all blandly pretty. On the girls' side, catwalk queen Jacki stood out, as did pixie-ish Holly, who got nailed for her bad haircut (Holly's other problem: she clearly has no idea how to be sexy; expect that to be her undoing). Stephanie got high praise for her Times Square photo shoot, but I'm not feeling her facial features at all-too long and vaguely horsey. Shannon looks great in make-up but as a clean palette is almost homely. Aryn is gorgeous but forgettable. Katy is sexy but too thick, and will likely go home first. Sarah has no business being in the competition. Pretty girl, not a model. Very common features.

I feel like there are four guys in the competition, since some of them look almost identical. If Perry doesn't take the whole thing home I'll be shocked. He's got the looks, the swagger, the personality. He's a ringer. The only other competition in my mind is Ronnie, who is scorching, and will only get hotter once he stops shaving his chest, as he was instructed to do (thank you! I knew the fashion pendulum would swing back to sanity on that one sooner or later). Farrah-haired Frankie is a douchebag, but he's got the face and body to pull it off. His doppelganger Casey is totally indistinct, and Perry clone Ben is a bit hayseed and clearly has no idea what he's doing. Dominic thinks he's edgy but comes across as a prick. And lastly the one black male on the show (and seriously, out of 12 contestants we have only TWO that aren't white?), Jay, is absolutely not a model. Great body, jacked-up sunken face. NO. WAY.

The episode dragged, especially during the middle when the models took over their posh pad. But in truth a lot happened. A photo shoot in freezing Times Square; a bizarre sequence in which they had to burn their clothing (...huh?), a brutal body critique, a runway lesson, a swimsuit fashion show, judging, and even a visit to the hospital for Perry's broken foot. It left me wondering what the hell they're going to do in subsequent weeks, since that would fill about five episodes of "Top Model" alone.

That gives me hope that perhaps this show will get more in depth into what it actually takes to be a model, which would be interesting to watch. I mean, I love Tyra, but her advice is typically limited to "You were doing this, when you should have been THIS"; "Smile with your eyes"; "Tooch the booty"; and "You're really pretty when I make you cry." I'm sure there's more to it than that, and hopefully "Supermodel" will get into that, while simultaneously lightening up.

I guess we'll find out next week which model in the Bottom 3-Dominic, Katy, or Sarah-was voted off. I honestly don't understand how this whole voting thing works. They're shooting this show now, right? They must be. Do they really have time to shoot all of this and edit it by Thursday night every week? That's kind of nuts, but it has to be the case. That kind of cycle could lead to some pretty spectacular meltdowns. Maybe there's hope for this show after all...

THAT was rough. For a two-hour premiere we saw precious few people who have even a shot at making it to the voting rounds. Of them, Angela Martin (26) seems to be a pretty good bet. Angela has several things going for her. First, she's gorgeous, and has amazing hair. Second, she's charming as all get out. Third, she's got one of the saddest stories I've ever heard on this show, as her young daughter suffers from a debilitating CP-like illness. And fourth, she's got a decent voice. Not a great voice, as she demonstrated on "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" (terrible audition song). She's a wedding band singer (shades of LaToya London!), and is way, way too affected. But underneath all that is a nice, pure voice, and I think she'll likely make it to the voting rounds.

Kristy Lee Cook loves horses and kickboxing, and she's reasonably pretty, if not a bit too tight in the face. She broke out "Amazing Grace," and it was good. Nothing we haven't heard before, but she's got country pop written all over her, and we need at least one of those a year. She's badly in need of a makeover - tie-dyed top with long gauzy sleeves? Kristy Lee!

Brooke White is like the living embodiment of Pollyanna. Never saw an R-rated movie, never smoked, never drank, etc. She's a nanny. She's acceptably pretty. She has a very sweet voice, but she'll need to stand out more to make it past Hollywood.

Among the people who got through that I didn't care for, Chris Watson sang Uncle freaking Kracker's "Follow Me" --- the song with literally four notes in it --- and was heralded as being a great singer. Please. He is also wearing Ellen Cleghorn's hair circa 1997 and has disarmingly feminine facial features. Melanie Nyema, a former back-up singer for Taylor Hicks and thus already dead to me, screeched her way through Natasha Bedingfield's "Unwritten" (TERRIBLE audition song) and was totally unworthy of her golden ticket.

I've read that this season of "Idol" will focus more on the contestants' stories, and we got a rough one last night with a young woman named --- I shit you not --- Temptress Brown. Temptress is 16, yet looks very much like Etta James before her massive weight loss, but with copper rather than platinum hair. She is literally a linebacker on her high school football team. She decided to try out for her mother, who is morbidly obese, confined to a wheelchair, and hooked to an oxygen tank --- and who came with her daughter to try out. Jesus. Temptress was predictably terrible (she didn't even get the song name, artist, or lyrics right) and when the judges very nicely let her down, she started crying big, gooey tears. They did a group hug-even Simon was sweet-and then we had a seemingly five-minute Yay Temptress! bit that, admittedly, touched me at first, since I suspect that not a lot of great things happen in Temptress' life. But then I realized what kind of a message this is sending to her and other kids like her-it doesn't matter that you're delusional or completely out of your league; if you seek attention people will pity you and make you feel superficially better about your awful lot in life-and I got jaded all over again. Damn it, show!

Other infuriating moments: Dork-ass farm girl Christine Tallisano, who came with clip-on (CLIP-ON!) Princess Leia buns and a big Star Wars belt and then threw an absolute fit after the judges very politely passed on her mediocre voice. The 10-15 minutes devoted to Alexis Cohen, a sparkly, gender ambiguous cross between David Bowie and Willem Dafoe who did a bitchin' Grace Slick impression. I actually liked Alexis during her audition, then pitied her during her home visit, but afterward she had a complete mental break and went on a rampage, swearing that she will go into "actressing" and she will be famous and she will be "victorious" (what?). That person is mentally ill. Please do not point cameras at the mentally ill, because they will act out just to get your attention. You are taking advantage of their illnesses. This is Season 7. Have we not learned this by now?

Most awful of all, however, was the time devoted to major league freak Benjamin Hart, a bearish young man who dropped his full-body cloak once he entered the audition room to reveal a full, homemade slave Leia costume. Let me tell you why I was offended by this: I have no problem with alternative sexualities, but I'm not looking to watch some creepy guy get off on my television at my expense. And in case there is any doubt in your mind, Mr. Hart was certainly getting off on this. Literally. That was like four fetishes all rolled into one (cross-dressing, exhibitionism, role playing, and probably a little masochism), and that was totally a sexual outlet for him. And you, me, and everyone who watched it were dragged into his gross little fantasy. The worst part is that the show then made it 10 times worse when Paula told him she couldn't take him seriously (!) because his chest hair was all up in the Leia bra, and told him to come back once he'd had his chest waxed. I'm staunchly against chest waxing, but that wasn't he worst. The WORST was when she seemed shocked and appalled when he came back AFTER SHE TOLD HIM TO! IDIOT! Then he proceeded to "sing" exactly three words of the Pussycat Dolls' "Don't Cha" before being cut off by Simon. What was the point of all this? To humiliate him? To entertain us? Because I was just an unwilling participant in a sex act played out on national TV, and that's not entertaining. That's offensive. And it's crap like that that makes it very difficult to defend this show.

That said, I'll be watching tonight. Maybe, like Hart, I'm a masochist too.

Night 2 was a big improvement over the premiere, with Dallas offering up several potential contenders. There were still a couple instances of harassing the mentally ill, but all in all it was a fairly upbeat, feel-good evening.

The good: Alaina Whitaker, a less-pretty Carrie Underwood clone, might even be a better singer than her famous counterpart, as she demonstrated on Faith Hill's "Stronger." Brandon Green is a weirdo who peels off his fingernails and then saves them in a plastic baggy, but he won me over by picking Hall & Oates' "Rich Girl" and I really dug his tone. I don't think he's long for the competition, but I was impressed. Kady Malloy, 18, does spot-on imitations of Cunderwood and Britney (why would anyone imitate Britney's "singing"?). She's obscenely affected, but when she sings in a more "natural" voice Simon says she's the best he's heard all competition. He may be right, but she'll have a lot of work to do. Dork-ass Kyle Ensley, 21, totally threw me. They did this whole mock-presidential thing (he's also a political hopeful) and I expected him to suck, but he's got a great little theater voice, as evidenced by his glee club-ish take on "Somebody to Love." The next Gayken or Chicken Little? Drew Poppdreiter possibly literally fell off the turnip truck on the way to the audition. This young farmer is so hayseed, and so hot, and so very, very sheltered. He has a nice Randy Travis-esque voice, but will need to young it up considerably to advance. And tragic Kayla Hatfield was in a horrific car accident a few years ago that scarred half of her face and left her blind in one eye, but also so full of life that she's infectious, like a deranged little Minnie Pearl. She gets through on Janis Joplin's "Take Another Little Piece of My Heart," and Kayla will be quickly dismissed once we get to Hollywood, but right now I kind of love her.

The not as good as they think: At 24 Jessica Brown has had two babies and conquered a meth addiction, and she has officially already accomplished more in her life than I ever will. But she's not a natural singer, and she works way too hard to get through "I'll Stand By You," not even counting the few bum notes. She gets through, but I'm not sure she should have. And Nina Shaw, also 24, is gorgeous and should walk herself over to Tyra's house. But alas, she's not that great of a singer, as she underwhelms on Whitney's "Run to You." A better job on a jazzy second song gets her through, but just barely.

The bad: Kyle Raddick describes himself as a hardcore rocker, but is actually the male Avril Lavigne (we'll call him "Mavril," TM Bob). He's that hokey faux-punk thing, sporting the deepest tan I've seen since George Hamilton, eyeliner - excuse me, per him, "guyliner" - and a poster made by the kids he councils. He is also clearly gay, and might want to come to terms with that before auditioning on any more reality shows. He hilariously sings the so very hardcore "Never Again" by Kelly Clarkson. Doug Davidson is like a lower functioning Dwight Schrute, or one of Bill Murray's kids from "Rushmore." He is not all there, and after shouting through "Living on a Prayer" and staggering creepily around the audition room and making noises previously unknown to man, he had to be forcibly ejected. There are people who come on this show knowing they're full of shit and just desperate to get on TV. Doug is not one of those people. I think he seriously thought he had a chance, and I feel gross that we had to watch him be humiliated just because he didn't know any better.

The awesome: I was fully prepared to dismiss Rinaldo Lapara, 44, whom the show had been previewing all week, decked out in his shiny silver/white wool pimp suit. But then he came in, and totally won my heart. Rinaldo thinks that Simon was sent from Heaven (I don't necessarily disagree) and Rinaldo has come up with his own composition to sing, called "We're Brothers Forever." And gosh darn it if it isn't the catchiest little ditty I've heard all week. Rinaldo is so passionate, so devoid of cynicism, that as he belted out his little song you couldn't help but fall in love with him a little. Even though he was wearing a winged white feathered pimp hat. After a few rounds, the judges and Ryan even joined in the chorus, and Paula, in her best moment possibly ever, launched into an interpretive dance, and then broke it down into full 90's boogie. It was a surprisingly uplifting way to end the episode, and a welcome respite to the craptacular episode the night before.

The past few years have been kind to spelling bees. They've become part of the cultural zeitgeist, as some wonderfully eccentric kids (remember that bird girl?) nabbed headlines during the Scripps National Spelling Bee, which then led to the buzzed-about bee documentary "Spellbound," even as spelling featured prominently into Myla Goldberg's novel "Bee Season." Suddenly it's cool to be a geek, at least one with a good vocabulary.

With that in mind, it was a no-brainer for a spelling bee to be transformed into a Broadway musical (ready-made plot and drama!), and in 2005 that happened with "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee." The show just closed on the Great White Way this past Sunday, but RBTL has brought the touring production to the Auditorium Theatre through Sunday, January 27.

Opening night was surprisingly packed for a blustery Tuesday night. Unfortunately the show got off to a rocky start as some mic feedback and inconsistent sound levels left the opening number all but indecipherable. Thankfully things were quickly fixed, and what followed was a fun, fast-paced, wonderfully smart musical production.

The six "contestants" in the titular middle-school spelling bee represent all sorts of 21st century geek stereotypes. You've got the hyperactive, hyper-liberal byproduct of a nontraditional family; the socially maladjusted home-schooled dork; the aggressively antisocial science weirdo; the overachieving minority student; the emotionally stunted daughter of self-absorbed hippy-dippy parents; and the overly hormonal kiss-ass. Through spelling - and song! - the kids learn lessons about individuality, the sting of disappointment, and the importance of just being yourself. To their credit, the writers avoid (for the most part) overly treacly Disney sentiment, and the lyrics and dialogue are sharply intelligent and caustically funny.

The play milks humor out of just about every facet of a spelling bee, from the selected words (one kid gets nothing but the names of obscure South American giant rodents, for example), to the usage of the words in a sentence (the sentence for the word cow is "Please spell the word ‘cow'"), to the announcer's descriptions of the contestants (one girl was "recovering from a case of cooties"). A couple of the jokes go a little down market - one contestant is eliminated after he gets distracted by a young woman in a tight blouse, and proceeds to sing a song about erections, complete with baudy visual gags - but all in all, it's a surprisingly clever show.

The cast is great, but a few stand out. Katie Boren's tour de force during Marcy's solo number - singing! dancing! piano playing! baton twirling! karate chopping! - got a fairly middling reaction from the audience, but I thought she was amazing. Vanessa Ray as Olive has a voice built for Broadway, and is adorable too. But it's Eric Roediger's show as the iconic William Barfee, the pugnacious, oddly likable braggart who goes to town during his "Magic Foot" number. The role made a star (of sorts) out of Dan Fogler, who went on to star in the big screen's "Balls of Fury" opposite Christopher Walken this summer, and Roediger does a great job filling his magic shoes.

I typically hate audience participation in theater shows, but one of "Spelling Bee's" more likable facets is that it takes volunteers from the audience and makes them part of the bee. Four or five (I lost count) audience members took to the stage, and several made it through almost half the production, staying alive through words both easy ("Mexicans") and hard ("flugelume"). In a hilarious twist that I don't think was intended, one of the audience members managed to correctly spell the word I think was supposed to eliminate her, and she was immediately called back for an even more ridiculous word. (She biffed the first letter and was quickly given her consolation hug and juicebox and was led off the stage.)

The only real issues I had with the production are built into the play itself. The character of Mitch Mahoney, the "comfort counselor," is almost entirely pointless and seems tacked on just to have another body there during group numbers. The actor who played him, Kevin Smith Kirkwood, did a great job during his one solo number, but it felt incongruous to the rest of the play's proceedings, and just wholly unnecessary. Most of the time he just literally sits on a tool in the back of the stage.

Second, while most of the play moves at a pleasantly brisk clip, the proceedings grind to a screeching halt during Olive's somber solo late in the show. In it, she pleads with her mother to return from her nine-month spiritual quest at an Indian ashram, or at least to show some interest in her life. It's a well-meaning piece, sure, but it goes on way too long; during the fourth or fifth chorus of the three singers belting out "I love you" over and over again, a woman behind me loudly commented: "We get it; you love her. Move on with it."

Last, the staging for the "Pandemonium" number was beyond loose, with multiple actions just dribbling all over the stage. I get that the point of the number was, well, pandemonium, but it shouldn't look clumsy and poorly rehearsed. It did last night.

Those minor issues aside, "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" is just about the most charming show I've seen in ages, and well worth the trip through the blustery January weather.