This review by Matthew Murray at "Talkin' Broadway"

is printed in excerpt:

A show daring to subtitle itself "An opera you can't refuse" has three vital responsibilities to fulfill: It had better be an opera, it had better be irreverent, and it had better be darn good. Don Imbroglio, which is playing at the Lion as part of the New York Musical Theatre Festival, meets all three criteria, and then some.

Writers Peter Hilliard (music) and Matt Boresi (libretto) have gone out of their way to satisfy both die-hard musical theatre fans and die-hard opera fans. The two camps, forever warring about the importance of singing ability, acting technique, amplification, and so on, tend not to agree about much. But when you apply a score of near-operatic weight and complexity to a silly, accessible story with strong popular roots, you get the kind of magic offering that might just be able to unite the two disparate camps.

And maybe, just maybe, lovers of mafia fiction? I'll skip the obvious and obligatory "soprano" (though one is cleverly made in the show) and confirm the title's suggestion that there are more than a few traces of The Godfather here, as well. It's a lot for any show to juggle, and imagining a contemporary crime-syndicate family singing about their pet cats, finding horse heads in bed, or justifying adultery might not be exactly easy. But it's precisely for that reason that Don Imbroglio works so well. You might know what to expect, but you can never be sure of what you'll end up getting.

Hilliard, Boresi, and director Jenny Lord have packed so many surprises into the show that to give away many of them would be to disrupt the delicate latticework of entertainment and intrigue that they've so convincingly assembled. I will say, though, that the first act details the events at the wedding of the Don's promiscuous son Dante, and the machinations of the other guests; the second act finds everyone, now grieving over a traumatic loss, forced to perform an opera to maintain the Don's illicit business dealings.

Boresi's libretto, entirely in English except for the opera (for which supertitles are thoughtfully - and hilariously - provided), bursts with wit and charm as it sends up and adheres to operatic tradition. Hilliard's music is a fine match, attractively setting up everything from minor comedy numbers to heavily layered duets and trios to keening arias of Metropolitan breadth. Hilliard also quotes from a number of existing operas (to give you but one hint: the Don's cat is named Figaro), especially in a late wrapping-up-the-plot aria for the Don's scheming consiglieri Lascivo, but it's never overdone: For the most part, Hilliard reveals himself as an operatic pastiche artist of the highest order.

[The cast of Don Imbroglio are] all terrifically funny and effective actors, particularly [Erica] Shroeder [as Chastity], whose lusty outward ditziness wryly masks a thoughtful woman clawing to get out. 

Don Imbroglio itself, though, is a lithe, lively evening that musical lovers shouldn't fear seeing in an opera house, and that opera devotees shouldn't shy away from in a theater. As much fun as it is, its most attractive feature is its ability to bring people together, something weddings, funerals, musicals, and opera excel at. But how often do you get them all in a single show?

  Cool.

This review by Simon Saltzman at "Curtain Up"

is printed in excerpt:

Checking their guns at the door doesn't seem to be a prerequisite for the high-strung low-tolerance guests gathered in the garden of Italian mob boss Don Imbroglio's compound to celebrate his son's wedding. The only rule not to be broken, and presumably punishable by death, is the turning off of cell phones and beepers. This is made clear by Joey "No Name" Nero (Raymond Mcleod), the big burly Mafia soldier who goes up and down the aisles of the Lion Theater randomly picking out potential offenders for questioning, especially pretty ones (at least at the performance I caught). The laughs begin early in this Opera/ musical cross-over user-friendly musical farce self ascribed as "The Godfather meets The Marriage of Figaro meets Noises Off."

The bright and easily digested faux classical music starts right up and never lets up. It is as consistently delightful as it is purposefully derivative. What could be more upsetting to Don Imbroglio (Robert Dusold) on the day his "licentious" son Dante (Nick Dalton) is being wed than to have the FBI and IRS announce jointly that they are investigating the legitimacy of the family's front organization, the Staten Island Grand Opera. Their ultimatum: If the family doesn't produce an opera, they will all go to jail. But there are other pressing issues a foot, mostly addressed by a winning cast through soaring, roaring arias, duets, trios, quartets, and ensembles, mostly notable for their playful homage to Mozart, Puccini, Bizet, Gilbert and Sullivan and Sondheim, and with hilarious lyrics that are never more explicitly vernacular than "Joey, pass the cannoli."

Under Jenny Lord's frenetically paced direction, Act I plays like a dream. Arielle Doneson is a feisty delight as the Mafia princess Angelica Imbroglio whose romance with non-Italian "hapless" tenor Cesar (Vale Rideout) is not good news to the "drooling and groping" Lascivo (Wayne Schroder), the conspiring family consigliere who lusts after Angelica. Bad news runs rampant as Dante's bride Donna (Valerie MacCarthy) discovers the groom's sexy scantily clad "goumada" Chastity (Erica Schroser) is also at the wedding and wantonly making her moves on Dante.

It isn't long before virtually everyone is out gunning for the one they hate, making split second exits and entrances through slits in a white sheet on a draw string (designed by Lee Savage). When Cesar innocently sings, "You haven't told me what your father does," Angelica nonchalantly questions, "To whom?" Without excellent singer/actors none of this would work but Doneson is a delight and uses her coloratura (shades of Cunigunde) with aplomb ("He may be the boss of bosses but he's not the boss of me"). As the "Don," DuSold strokes his fat cat Figaro that sleeps on his lap with the same impassioned feelings that he sings, "I'm more Donald Trump than Don Corleone." Everyone is caricatured to be sure, but Rideout, as the mild mannered outsider, holds his own (that means a gun) as the tenor that no one will let "fogetaboutit," but saves the family's honor when he becomes the star of the opera-within-the-opera that makes up most of Act II.

The four musicians -- Steven McGhee (keyboard); Fred Rosenberg (Clarinet); Taylor Waugh (Double Bass); Tyler McDiarmid (Mandolin/Guitar) -- offered splendid support perched above the set.