Cheyenne Jackson

Mid Life Torso Tour

Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts, Scottsdale, AZ, February 1, 2026

Reviewed by Lynn Timmons Edwards

Cheyenne Jackson was a new personality and voice to me but not to the many fans who have followed him through his career on Broadway, in film, and on television. His cabaret, one of the best crafted I have seen in a while, was originally billed as Signs of Life. Either way, it was inspired by Jackson’s turning fifty and joining what he calls the “fuckit” club. He is superbly handsome; his “midlife” torso still looks like he is in his twenties. His voice was rich and resonant, and his patter was full of personal stories, mostly funny but some poignant. This was his debut at the Scottsdale Center, and he seemed happy to be there, despite being on antibiotics for a virus he had picked up from his eleven-year-old twins.

The four-piece band was led by Michael Orland as musical director and pianist. His bio is as impressive as Jackson’s. He recently served as associate musical director on the NBC production of Hairspray and as rehearsal pianist for the Netflix movie The Prom, and he’s worked with legends Patti LuPone and Bernadette Peters. Jackson has been nominated for a Grammy and a Tony, and he debuted his solo show at Carnegie Hall in December 2025.

After he introduced the show from off stage with some television jingles he grew up with, Jackson opened with “Don’t Stop Me Now” (Freddy Mercury/Queen) and went right into “Americano” (Fernando Gariby/DJ White & Brian Lee). He then took time to introduce himself as the queer kid from a tiny town in Idaho who went on a field trip to the metropolis of Spokane to see his first Broadway show, Les Misérables. It changed his life, and that story was the perfect lead-in to “Something’s Coming” (Leonard Bernstein/Stephen Sondheim). We got the full story of his first love affair and the heartbreak that followed, which happened while he was performing in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers in summer stock in 1995.

He offered an eclectic selection of songs: a little Elvis, a little “Bésame Mucho” (Consuelo Velaquez), and a lyrical rendition of “A Wink and a Smile” (Marc Shaiman/Ramsey McLean), which showed off the band as well as his ability to glide across the stage. Jackson was confident and charismatic throughout. As an openly gay performer, he managed to ooze sex appeal to the entire audience.

In my book, there were two outstanding moments in this show. The first was his Act II opening where he confessed that he used to obsess over reviews and what others thought about him, but since turning 50 not so much any longer. He read excerpts from his worst reviews (some critics were mean) and then ripped them up in between verses of “That’s Life” (Dean Kay/Kelly Gordon), which was hysterical. The other brilliant choice, on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, was when he talked about his dad’s understanding that football was not in his wheelhouse and then sang his original song “Okay.” On occasion he used too much Broadway volume and intensity on songs such as the Duke Ellington/Bob Russell “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore,” but that did not make me love him any less. He told funny stories about his friendship with the late Leslie Jordon and the passing of his best friend Gavin Creel, and then he dedicated a driving rendition of “A Song for You” (Leon Russell) to Creel. It was Orland’s finest arrangement with its arpeggios and keyboard finesse.

Jackson’s midlife torso message was that he’s living authentically—“I Am What I Am” (Jerry Herman)—and still has “Hope” (Jason Robert Brown) in a world on fire. It has been a decade since he was reviewed by Cabaret Scenes. No need to tear this one up. Bravo to Jackson and to the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts and its Broadway Series.