I guess you could consider this a fusion of multiple genres at once. It's a revue. It's a songspiel. It's a postcard of New York City as it was at the end of the Seventies. And in some manners it seems like a parody of what it's trying to accomplish--maybe because it's such a love letter to what has come before.
The plot, such as it is, has a actress arrive in the City and she meets a cabbie who takes her all over town, and there are various song and dance numbers at every turn. The cabbie informs her that to succeed in New York she need three things: Money, Muscle and Magic. "Is there a WRONG kind of money?" is one of the first questions she asks back. And she has a great many other questions that get asked and answered.
I'm not going to spoil what happens. She gets lost, found, caught, escaped, rescues, and eventually finds an unexpected answer to her dream of a home.
The plot, such as it is, has a actress arrive in the City and she meets a cabbie who takes her all over town, and there are various song and dance numbers at every turn. The cabbie informs her that to succeed in New York she need three things: Money, Muscle and Magic. "Is there a WRONG kind of money?" is one of the first questions she asks back. And she has a great many other questions that get asked and answered.
I'm not going to spoil what happens. She gets lost, found, caught, escaped, rescues, and eventually finds an unexpected answer to her dream of a home.