These days, the biographical jukebox musical is so ubiquitous that it has become something of a cliché. At any given moment, Broadway has a few shows built around the lives and songbooks of famous figures, such as MJ, Buena Vista Social Club and Just in Time. Some of these shows are great, and many are great fun. Others struggle to resonate at all. This brings us, perhaps surprisingly, to an earlier example of the form.

Opening on Broadway today, 10 April, 1968, George M! tells the story of George M. Cohan, the legendary performer, writer and producer once known as “The Man Who Owned Broadway.” Long before the term “jukebox musical” entered the theatrical lexicon, George M! assembled a narrative around Cohan’s life using the songs that had already secured his place in show business history.

With a book by Michael Stewart, John Pascal and Francine Pascal, and a score drawn from Cohan’s own work, with revisions by his daughter, Mary Cohan, the musical traces its subject’s journey from his roots in vaudeville with his family to his days as one of Broadway’s defining figures. Along the way, audiences are treated to enduring standards such as “Give My Regards to Broadway” and “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” songs that have long since transcended the shows for which they were written.

On paper, this is the kind of material that should guarantee success. And in some ways, it did. George M! ran for 433 performances, suggesting a level of popular appeal even though the critics remained unconvinced. Writing for The New York Times, Clive Barnes, for example, dismissed the show as ‘a scrappy, ill-prepared, mediocrely written account,’ the kind of verdict that has defined the show’s reputation ever since.

The issue seems to lie less in the subject matter than in its structure. Unlike the most successful examples of the biographical musical, George M! offeres relatively little insight into the man at its centre. Its book has often been criticised for feeling underdeveloped, leaving the songs to do much of the heavy lifting. While the songs are undeniably strong, their presence alone is not quite enough to sustain a fully satisfying piece of theatre.

That said, there was much to admire in the original production. Joe Layton’s direction and choreography brought a sense of polish and energy to the staging, earning him a Tony Award for his choreography. Joel Grey, in the title role, received a Tony nomination for his performance, capturing something of Cohan’s theatrical drive. The production also featured Bernadette Peters, for whom it proved to be a stepping stone en route to a remarkable career.

The musical’s afterlife has been modest. A 1970 television adaptation, broadcast by NBC, presented the material in a hybrid format, part performance and part retrospective, with performers reflecting on Cohan’s life between the musical numbers. It’s an approach that, in its own way, acknowledges the central tension of the piece: the sense that the story itself never quite finds the shape it needs.

All of this raises one inevitable question: what is the purpose of a show like George M!?

As a piece of theatre, its worth is debatable. As a celebration of a figure in American musical theatre history, however, it has undeniable value. If the show feels like an extended reminder of Cohan’s importance, that may be because Cohan himself has, in some ways, faded from the cultural foreground. His influence is immense, but his work is not always directly encountered by contemporary audiences.

Perhaps, then, the real subject of this Forgotten Musicals Friday is not the musical itself, but the man at its centre. George M! may be a show you can take or leave. George M. Cohan, on the other hand, is not so easy to set aside.