By most metrics, Smash, the erstwhile NBC series about the drama-filled production of a comedic Marilyn Monroe musical, was a failure. The show had high expectations – it was developed and executive-produced by Steven Spielberg, championed by the then-head of NBC, stocked with Broadway pedigree and supported by a robust network TV budget. It boasted a mix of high-wattage screen talent (Debra Messing, Anjelica Huston), new blood (American Idol alum Katharine McPhee) and established stage veterans (Megan Hilty, Christian Borle). And it featured pop music covers and original musical theater tracks, promising what should have been, as one friend loves to put it, Glee for adults.
Yet after initial critical praise following its February 2012 premiere, the show quickly became a laughing stock, an appointment hate-watch for its whiplash tonal shifts, unsympathetic lead characters and bad scarves. It was canceled after just two seasons. But in our post-post-post irony world, time has been kind to the bizarre misfire. In the decade since it last aired, Smash has become a beloved IYKYK cultural artifact, the type of failure whose wild delusion and total lack of sense aged into fine camp.
