The selection of original movies and TV shows in Apple TV+ has, more than anything, left me confused about its reason for being. I've never been tempted to subscribe, but I decided to go for the first episode of Schmigadoon! (with an exclamation point from which I will generally refrain) on a whim during the free trial and ended up watching all six.

The series, created and lead by Cinco Paul, follows an adult couple who inadvertently steps into an early 20th-century American fiction with the presentational stylings of its subsequent golden age musicals, trapped until they find "true love." Questioning their own affection for each other, they follow their desire – and in more than one case, simple logical deductions – to connect instead with the town's anachronistic residents, while also suffering (and inevitably influencing) their traditional lifestyle. As the title suggests, it's not just a comedy, but a meta-comedy, each musical number crafted to reference a tune recognizable to anyone who either lived through the referenced period, or is a music theatre nerd. The parodies and references alone are enough to delight those groups.

The main couple is played by Keegan Michael-Key (who I'd heard of), and Cecily Strong (who I hadn't – it looks like she's mainly known for appearances on Saturday Night Live, which would explain that). More recognizably to me, and more on genre, are Alan Cumming as the mayor (whose first appearance and solo verse is suitably carved out during the grandiose opening number), and Kristin Chenoweth, playing his pious, stone-faced, and and fast-talking foil. If nothing else, Apple TV+'s recruited talent does not lack in proven names, and these two further substantiate their versatility as character performers. Though they're joined by a heaping handful of other leads of equal calibre, a good musical organizer knows a strong chorus is no less important, and a dozen or so men and women shoulder the general tone with lots of dexterity and energy. Though the director feels free to cut between angles with typical frequency (sometimes to humorous effect), there's one complex, four-minute spree around the town square which appears to have been filmed as a single, continuous shot. That's why you hire seasoned stage actors rather than TV actors.

All of this occurs on sets the size of large sound stages or average-sized community theatres, where distant landscapes deliberately appear as painted backdrops. The self-referentiality of that aside, that's one merit of the show: it's an effort to do as much as possible within clear constraints. It's one of the only shows I've watched recently that wouldn't have had much of a special effects budget, let alone one the directors were uninspired enough to rely on for the show's success, all too typical nowadays. Instead, the focus was on palpably human talent: the cast, the acoustic orchestra, and – holy cow – a full rendering of over a half-dozen alternate language audio tracks, complete with dialogue, solo singers, and dubbings for the entire chorus. (Canadian French and French!) Not to mention a matching array of subtitles and "audio description" versions to boot. I love that stuff.

While presented as six short episodes, the musical feels as though it was conceived and written as a single, full-length production: a recognizable "end of act one" is present over halfway through, and staple callbacks and reprises span episode breaks, which is refreshing and makes TV's "previously on" recaps seem clunky. I'm surprised at how much I liked the digestibility of this format; sitting down for one episode was perfectly enjoyable and precluded all reckoning about deciding whether to dedicate two hours to consumption. Each episode begins with the same ultra-short overture and title sequence where the mains are credited. This includes Martin Short, whose 30-second cameo in episode one apparently gets prime billing six times – I suppose he still has a good agent.

Another general facet of Apple TV+ seems to be utter eagerness to engage in full-throttle product placement. (Every phone in the world is an iPhone.) Happily, Schmigadoon (the town itself) didn't have room for many smartphones, and the leading man's Apple Watch was the only featured product I caught. The second-closest thing was a period-appropriate "apple store" in the town square, implied as a genuine fruit shop. I'll give a feigned snicker and a nod to a little self-aware mockery of that over-indulgence.

The only "off" thing about the show was its occasional attempt at edgy or untoward humour. The opening number kicks off a running gag about a town resident named "Pete" who is injured every time a projectile flies offscreen. ("Ow!" "Sorry, Pete!") Even though the first projectile – within the opening number – is a gunshot, by this point we assume he's fine and it's kind of "heehee"-worthy. Subsequently, a townsperson's rhyme-resolving line "I do unspeakable things to pigs," (followed by the chorus's Gilbert and Sullivan-like affirmation,) feels even more out of place within this epitome of spotlessness meant to contrast the leading man and lady's real-world flawednesses. The later parody of "Do-Re-Mi" from The Sound Of Music, which she employs to teach eloping sweethearts about common terms for the human reproductive system, while indeed educational, feels again like it's mainly there for a laugh that doesn't come. I guess you could argue this kind of thing has become common enough in musicals that these moments referenced the trend, but they didn't exist in the 1940s and '50s source material, so I don't think that comports, and I think Schmigadoon would have been better without them. Even so, they're easy enough to overlook.

What inspired me to share a review, though, was my observation that I kept coming back to watch and re-watch certain numbers and fun moments, of which there were many. I got the feeling that if I'd watched Schmigadoon growing up, I'd come to consider it one of those things I'd "always watched growing up." It has nice messages overall, the artistic quality is high, the adults (and children!) are admirable models as performers, it pays good homage to the many scores it references, and it sure doesn't take itself too seriously. This one might not have existed without Apple TV+, so – having now seen it – I think it would have been worth the five dollars to access, and it's certainly worth trying the first episode if you have a free trial.