Anthony Murphy
Songs in the Key of Me
Post Office Café and Cabaret, Provincetown, MA, June 10, 2026
Reviewed by John Amodeo
Musical theater is in the bones of Anthony Murphy, right down to the marrow, and his cabaret show Songs in the Key of Me, which he performed on June 10 at at CabaretFest at the Post Office Café and Cabaret showed just how deeply musical theater is woven into his DNA. This young man has already amassed impressive theater cred, having starred as the genie in the 2017 National Tour of Aladdin, toured with the 2023 National Tour of The Wiz, performed in the Off-Broadway production of Titanique, and on Broadway tread the boards in the 2024 revival of The Wiz as well as the 2021 Diana, the Musical. Murphy is to be commended that we didn’t hear a single song from any of those shows in this deeply personal show that featured what Murphy claimed were the songs that shaped him. Instead, it was his most recent turn in the Arizona Theatre Company’s production of Ain’t Misbehavin’, performed first in Tuscon, then in Tempe this past February and March that provided the backbone material for this show.
Working on Ain’t Misbehavin’ showed Murphy just how influential the music of Thomas “Fats” Waller had always been on the person he had become. Here, he used a half dozen of Waller’s songs as the solid structure for the show from which he could build further. Never mind that some of those songs are ensemble numbers sung by a cast of five. Murphy’s bountiful pizazz, stage presence, and big Broadway baritone enabled him to single-handedly bring home such showy group numbers as “The Joint is Jumpin’” (Waller/Andy Razaf & J.C. Johnson) and “Ain’t Misbehavin’” (Waller & Harry Brooks/Razaf). His solo from that production of Ain’t Misbehavin’, “Your Feet’s Too Big” (Ada Benson/Fred Fisher), was hilarious and provided a moment for Murphy to speak about his experience in that production. “Honeysuckle Rose” (Waller/Razaf) was dripping with sex, “Viper’s Drag” (Waller) was seductive, and he gave the full bump-and-grind treatment to “Keepin’ Out of Mischief Now” (Waller/Razaf), which he seemed most emotionally comfortable within the Waller oeuvre. Despite his declaration that these songs helped shape who he is, we never really learned what it was about them that did so. However, when Murphy chose other songs that were not from the Waller repertory, the fourth wall slowly faded away and we learned more about Murphy and how this music has shaped him.
The most telling of those was “The Joker” (Anthony Newley/Leslie Bricusse from The Roar of the Greasepaint–The Smell of the Crowd), a classic “tears of a clown” song. Before singing it, Murphy spoke of growing up shielded by being the class clown, then blossomed into his true self when he transferred to a performing-arts school and transformed into the class showman. His vivacious and gutsy “That Old Black Magic” (Harold Arlen/Johnny Mercer) followed his childhood music memory of attending parties at his grandparents’ house where the guests were dressed to the nines. At one of those parties, a man sang and instantly become an inspiration to the impressionable young Murphy. Stevie Wonder’s “If It’s Magic” was sung softly and with tender feeling, which give Murphy an opportunity to take a break from the big brassy numbers in his show. This was true also of the delicately sung “Mr. Bojangles” (Jerry Jeff Walker). Murphy had historically avoided singing this, his favorite Sammy Davis Jr. song, for fear it would define him. But he realized this was not about being remembered forever but just being able to touch someone in this moment. And that he did. This was one of those moments in a show where the audience was completely rapt in the moment, barely breathing, as Murphy’s vulnerability emerged, focused with deep yearning on something very close to him. His pianist, Michael Ferrara, who was superb throughout, was extraordinary on this number; he filled with the same wistful urgency as Murphy.
Murphy’s many talents were most affecting in Sam Cooke’s soulful “A Change Is Gonna Come,” which followed his childhood story about agreeing to go fishing with his father on the condition that he could play his original-cast recordings. Murphy found Cooke’s song to be his personal testimony, and he delivered it with a strident gospel feel that showcased his resonant and elastic voice and gave us a window to his soul. And that, my friends, is why we go to cabaret shows.
