Following the recent election, many theatergoers (including myself) are in desperate need of the kind of escapism and emotional support exemplified by the joy, energy, wit, crackle, and spectacle of American musical comedy.
“Death Becomes Her,” a lavish and zany Broadway musical adaptation of the 1992 cult-classic film comedy (with a starry cast that included Meryl Streep, Goldie Hawn, Bruce Willis, and Isabella Rossellini) in which two women resort to supernatural solutions as part of their decades-long feud over the same man, very much wants to be the feel-good show for this moment in time, just as the revival of “Hello, Dolly!” with Bette Midler so powerfully met a similar moment eight years ago.
As directed and choreographed by Christopher Gattelli, “Death Becomes Her” has a lot to offer, including many slick, expertly-executed visual gags (including super-quick costume changes, an elaborately staged tumble down a winding stairwell, and household items bursting to life à la “Pee-wee’s Playhouse”), an extravagantly ghoulish set design that extends into the auditorium, sharp one-liners (many labored, but at least some of which land with laughs), and an ensemble clad in body stockings (as if imported from Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s castle in “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”)
Most importantly, it features over-the-top leading performances from two game actresses, Megan Hilty (“Smash”) and Jennifer Simard (“Company”), with Christopher Sieber (“Shrek”) as the hapless guy in the middle.
What “Death Becomes Her” lacks is even a remotely decent score. The songs (by newcomers Julia Mattison and Noel Carey), which rely heavily on a disco-beat, are derivative, undistinguished, and scattershot. Considering the amount of time and money invested in the production, it is hard to believe that the show’s producers did not seek out a better score. Likewise, the storytelling (with book by Marco Pennette) is jumbled, with virtually no development in Act Two.
It is not unlike watching a clunky variation on “All About Eve,” which also involved two dueling divas. In fact, “Death Becomes Her” brings to mind “Applause,” the little-remembered, highly-flamboyant 1970 musical adaptation of “All About Eve.”
Many people at my performance appeared to be having a terrific time, enjoying “Death Becomes Her” as unapologetically silly, glitzy entertainment. I truly wish I could have joined the party.
Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, 205 W. 46th St., deathbecomesher.com.
‘Maybe Happy Ending’ is a lovely robot musical
The best surprise of the fall season is “Maybe Happy Ending,” a lovely new musical fairy tale by Will Aronson and Hue Park about two out-of-date helper robots (Darren Criss and Helen J. Shen) in South Korea who fall in love (yes, you read that right). The production, directed by Michael Arden, is technologically innovative yet emotionally intimate. This is the sort of completely original, unexpected show that you immediately recommend to your friends and family, partially out of fear that it will otherwise get lost in the shuffle amidst higher-profile new shows. One wonders why it did not premiere Off-Broadway, where it could have developed hype and a fan base, and then transfer to Broadway.
Belasco Theatre, 111 W. 44th St., maybehappyending.com.
Kenneth Branagh’s ‘King Lear’ is empty and cut-down
Three decades ago, Kenneth Branagh starred in and directed a four-hour, uncut film adaptation of “Hamlet” that remains one of the best works of the 1990s Hollywood fad of Shakespeare remakes. Today, Branagh is starring in and directing a brutally cut-down, two-hour stage adaptation of “King Lear,” which originated in London and is now playing a New York engagement at The Shed in Hudson Yards. While it is hardly the worst production of the play you will ever encounter and contains an advanced sound design and interesting visual elements (accentuating the sky and natural world), this is an unmoving production led by a young cast of barely competent unknowns who happen to be joined by Branagh (who, looking detached and bored, appears to be through the role).
The Shed, 545 W. 30th St., theshed.org. Through Dec. 15.
