There are lots of professional reasons I can give you to watch Monday's premiere of Smash, NBC's new drama series about the making of a Broadway musical -- starting with its creators, its cast, its premise, its clever twists, and its equally clever music and lyrics. But there's also a personal reason, which I'll save for last...

But for starters, there's the very first, utterly perfect opening scene of Smash, which premieres Monday at 10 p.m. ET on NBC.

Katharine McPhee, playing wannabe Broadway singer Karen Cartwright, is singing -- in a solo spotlight, presumably on stage -- the opening lines of "Over the Rainbow." It's a beautiful moment, a beautiful voice, and it leaves you spellbound.

Until, that is, the spell is broken, unexpectedly and jarringly, by the sound of a cell phone.

Suddenly, the comforting, embracing semi-darkness is replaced by the harsh, unforgiving light of an audition room -- and the harsher, even less forgiving, dismissive look of the casting director who has interrupted the audition's flow, and darkened Karen's rainbow, by answering a cell phone.

So not long after Karen sings "Dreams that you dare to dream really do come true," she's been thanked, dismissed, and ushered out the door. Ouch.

Next up: a veteran Broadway chorus member named Ivy Lynn, played by Megan Hilty, who enters with lots of attitude, confidence, and cleavage.

Instantly, we have a battle on our hands -- and a wonderful new show at our doorstep.

Theresa Rebeck, whose resume includes credits from both Broadway (the current Seminar) and TV (as a writer on, among other series, NYPD Blue, Brooklyn Bridge and Dream On), is playful enough -- and smart enough -- to steep Smash in various levels of subtext and homage.

That opening song choice, I suspect, was no accident. Not only is it Judy Garland's signature number, but "Over the Rainbow" also was a song sung by McPhee when she was one of the two finalists on Season 5 of American Idol -- the season, and the show, in which she lost, ultimately, to Taylor Hicks.

That was in 2006. Now, six years later, to launch Smash, she's singing the same song -- and, at the very start of her new prime-time TV showcase, having the rug pulled out from under her just as brutally. So you really, really root for her Karen character, right from the start.

Except that Megan Hilty, who enters next and struts her stuff as Ivy, has an endearing Broadway baby story as well: being one of the replacement Glindas in Wicked, then starring as Doralee (the Dolly Parton part) in Broadway's 9 to 5: The Musical. So she has her backstory, and her fans, as well. And when the two of them get callbacks for a proposed new musical, on the life of Marilyn Monroe, there are reasons to root for both.

But if you're expecting a mere musical showdown -- a Team Karen vs. Team Ivy sort of thing -- Smash is much more ambitious than that. It won't take very long before the leading role of Marilyn is awarded, but that's only the beginning of the workshops, the drama, and the surprise twists and turns.

Smash, which was conceived as an idea by Steven Spielberg, begins with a very high ambition: Explore and dramatize, in a scripted weekly TV series, the act of creating a musical. As TV concepts go, it sounds simple. But in practice, it's about as simple as filming a story about a killer shark -- in the days before CGI.

One of the best conceits about Smash is that when the singers are singing songs from the proposed Marilyn musical, or when the composers are watching the dancers and singers go through their initial paces, their imagination kicks in, and we cut between the reality of the rehearsal and the fantasies of the performers and onlookers.

It's not a finished product -- not what the eventual Broadway show will turn out to be, should it turn out at all -- but it's heightened from the rehearsal "reality," so we see costumes, and better lighting, and even a few stage props and scenery elements. And to do that, these songs not only have to be written, and choreographed, but performed twice, in both rough and slick versions.

This requires the actual creative team members to be several steps ahead of their on-screen counterparts. Michael Mayer has directed the pilot, and Joshua Bergasse has choreographed the numbers, long before Jack Davenport gets to play Derek Wills, the tyrannical director-choreographer.

Similarly, songwriters Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman (Hairspray) have to come up with the music and lyrics for a Marilyn musical, so we can watch as the fictional composers on Smash -- Debra Messing as Julia Houston and Christian Borle as Tom Levitt -- can do the same. And as the producer, we have the delightful Anjelica Huston as Eileen Rand, one of many nuanced, driven characters surrounding the musical within this musical drama.

It's all very much a let's-put-on-a-show story, with as much emphasis on the hardships of raising money in a tight economy, and on the sexual and other volatile shenanigans in and around a Broadway company, as on the production itself. But the creative process is vey much front and center, too -- not only how things are done, but why.

In these respects, Smash is much closer to a modern remake of Gold Diggers of 1933 than an instant rehash of Glee. It's also canny and tasteful enough to make New York City as much a character in Smash as it is in Law & Order.

When a character on Smash walks under the awning of Sardi's, or is enveloped by Times Square, you know you're not on the backlot of Hollywood somewhere. And that verisimilitude, no less than the writing, direction, music and performances, makes Smash crackle with energy.

I've previewed four episodes of Smash, enough to know it really knows what it's doing and where it's going. It wouldn't surprise me at all if, in 2013, there were a real, full-length Marilyn: The Musical either on our TV sets, or on Broadway.

It especially wouldn't surprise me since two of the executive producers of Smash are Neil Meron and Craig Zadan, whose credits include the current Broadway revival of How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying, the Oscar-winning film version of Chicago, and a string of excellent musicals mounted for TV, starting with Bette Midler in Gypsy.

(To hear my recent interview with Meron and Zadan on NPR's Fresh Air with Terry Gross, click HERE.)

There are enough soap opera elements in Smash -- a divorce proceeding here, a baby adoption there, unsupportive parents over there -- to make it sort of a TV hybrid: part musical, part making-of-a-musical, part soapy drama. And, in the hands of these particular artists, all the elements work.

McPhee is a much better actress than her credits would suggest, Hilty captures Marilyn's breathy singing voice with spooky precision, and Messing and Huston run away with every scene in which they appear. There are fine male performances here, too, but Smash belongs to the women.

Oh, and finally -- the personal reason for me loving Smash so much? In high school, I was part of a performing arts troupe at Ft. Lauderdale's Nova High School -- very Glee-ish, except we mounted musicals and variety shows. And, except for one horrific exception, I was backstage all the way, as a lighting designer and stage manager.

But the start-to-finish process of putting on a show -- I never forgot that, and never lost sight of what a joy, and a rarity, it is to create something out of nothing. And, when it's such a collaborative effort and it all comes together, what a gift that is.

So take it from me: Smash is a gift.