Review - Follies Revival on Broadway

Someone is always trying to bring Follies back to Broadway, or at least it seems. There was talk of moving the 1998 production at Papermill Playhouse to NYC, but apparently backstage politics put the kibosh on that move. The well-received 2007 Encores production also had people calling for a Broadway transfer, but that never materialized either.

So more than a few folks (including me) were at first skeptical at talk of bringing the recent Kennedy Center production to Broadway, but, lo and behold, this time it actually happened. And the results, while somewhat mixed, are thrilling enough to warrant a huzzah or two from the Sondheim faithful (including me).

The first sight that theatergoers encounter when entering the Marquis Theatre for the current production of Follies are the various gray tarps covering all of the walls in the auditorium. A number of people have quipped that the notoriously sterile Marquis has never looked better, but the tarps create an appropriately oppressive atmosphere. Follies does, after all, take place in a decrepit theater that is about to be torn down.

Thankfully, director Eric Schaeffer has made no apparent attempt to reinvent Follies, focusing instead on bringing out what makes the show compelling: Stephen Sondheim's powerhouse of a score and the two central - though overlapping - relationships between Buddy and Sally Plummer, and Ben and Phyllis Stone. The more I hear Sondheim's score for Follies, the more enamored I become of its complexity, its leitmotivs, and the way the songs are paced to alternate showstopping uptempo numbers with heartbreaking introspective ballads.

There's really not a bad number in the mix, making it all the more perplexing that Sondheim saw fit to augment the score with a handful of fascinating, but ultimately unnecessary new numbers for the 1987 West End production. (Including "Country House," which sounds more like 1980s Sondheim than 1970s Sondheim; the delightful "Ah, But Underneath," which has become a standard of sorts with cabaret singers and drag queens everywhere; and the clearly autobiographical "Make the Most of Your Music," which is completely inappropriate for Ben, who doesn't speak in musical metaphors.)

The show is already front-loaded with concept (the ghosts of the characters haunt their modern-day selves throughout the show), so Schaeffer lets the big picture take care itself and instead concentrates on bringing out the complex emotional content with small but evocative directorial touches. Early in the show, Phyllis reaches for Ben just as Ben is walking away to put down his drink. At the end, as Sally and Buddy exit, Buddy moves to put his arm around the small of Sally's back, but pulls it back at the last second. Both moments are easy to miss, but are nonetheless indicative of Schaeffer's precision.

I've seen Follies many times, but I don't remember ever sensing the subtext as keenly as I did while watching this production. This is especially true during "The Road You Didn't Take" and "In Buddy's Eyes," which perhaps is not coincidental, since both songs feature Ben and Sally, and both emphasize Sally's as yet unspoken agenda.

If there's any justice, come Tony time, Jan Maxwell (Phyllis) and Danny Burstein (Buddy) will finally receive their long-overdue recognition. Maxwell and Burstein are always reliable, frequently inspired performers, and it's a pleasure to see them finally getting their due with this production. Maxwell brings both a stately elegance and a brittle edge to Phyllis, and her "Could I Leave You" was a national treasure. Maxwell spat out the words and raged across the stage during the number, and in the hands of someone of lesser talent, this might not have worked, but Maxwell is self-assured and laser sharp even when her character is on the verge of losing it.

Maxwell even makes some of James Goldman's clunky dialog work better than it deserves to. The script for the current production takes the 2001 version and adds in a few lines cherry-picked from the original. At the very end of the show, Phyllis turns to Ben and says, "Hope doesn't grow on trees; we make our own and I'm here to tell you it's the hardest thing we'll ever do." Oy. Who thought that was a line worth reinstating? It sounds like something from a bad, forgotten World War II Hollywood melodrama. But, again, Maxwell sold it, which is a testament to her inestimable talent.

Burstein is no less a wonder as Buddy. Schaeffer shrewdly places Buddy on the scene to witness much of Sally's attempts to rekindle her long-imagined romance with Ben, and Burstein's heartrending facial expressions vividly convey the tortured feelings of this man caught between the woman he loves and the woman who loves him (who are not necessarily one and the same).

The one misstep in Burstein's performance was actually not his doing. Warren Carlyle's choreography for "The Right Girl" seemed woefully out of place. Most of the dances, and in fact the songs, in Follies are diegetic: the characters are actually dancing in the context of the show, as Follies girls or performers, as opposed to dancing as their characters. It's not clear why Buddy would be the only character in the show to dance in a non-diegetic fashion, to break into a dance monologue, as it were. Yes, there's dance music in the song, or at least an orchestral section, but this could have been used for evocative staging as opposed to a jazz speciality.

As for the other two stars, Bernadette Peters has been getting mixed reviews as Sally, and I would be inclined to agree. There were times when Peters was a suitably frumpy housewife, but there were other times when it was just too much of a feat for her to pull it off. Her singing was mostly strong, although her breath control has lost some of its power over the years. Her final moment, however, was positively stunning. Sally stands staring out at the audience, while Buddy waits patiently to take her home. The sense of despair on Bernadette's face will remain for me an iconic moment, full of gravity, pathos, and eventually resignation. Simply breathtaking.

As Ben, Ron Raines has a rich and characterful voice, but some of his acting seemed a bit summer stock-y. He started off promising: his "The Road You Didn't Take" was remarkably powerful, yet full of restraint. But he seemed to abandon this restraint as the performance progressed. Phyllis makes numerous references to Ben's impassive nature, and that one of her key frustrations is that she finds him difficult to read. Whereas Raines wasn't difficult to read at all. In fact, he displayed his heart quite openly, on both of his sleeves, as it were.

The supporting cast was, for the most part, top-notch, from the electric Terry White to the joyous Jayne Houdyshell. A genuine standout for me was Rosalind Elias, making her Broadway debut at the age of 82 as Heidi. Heidi is meant to be an aging operetta star, and her song "One More Kiss" typically reeks of poignancy when Young Heidi enters and reminds both Heidi and the audience of the beautiful voice that this woman once had. With Elias, both Heidi and the number maintain that poignancy, but Elias still possesses a vocal control and richness of tone that women half her age would kill for. A song that often becomes a throwaway number became, for me, a thrilling centerpiece.

My one major complaint with this production lies in the "performance" of Elaine Paige. Yes, Paige, at least to some people, is a star. And, yes, she retains the great vocal power that made her a star. But Paige uses "I'm Still Here" not so much to play a character as to make a personal statement, and it left me ice cold. Paige plays the introductory scene and the song for laughs, to a distracting and deleterious extent. Her vocal histrionics produced a flat and characterless wall of sound, and her scooping was nothing less than egregious, with the musicality of Sondheim's masterful song lost amid the shtick and gimmickry. To paraphrase Dorothy Parker, Paige's performance ran the gamut from Y to Z.

Follies runs through the holiday season to the end of the year, at which point a number of the stars have concert engagements, making an extension rather unlikely. Those who have never seen the show staged, or those who are still smarting from the deeply disappointing 2001 revival, will clearly want to take this production in. In fact, anyone seeking to experience a classic show, sensitively staged, and featuring some of the best performers Broadway currently has to offer are well advised to head post haste to the Marquis.

Of course, no sooner did I post this review than Playbill.com reported that Follies will indeed be extending its run by three weeks. That's what I get for reckless prognostication.

Comments

[sean martin]

Having seen the glorious original when it moved to LA, I was looking forward to this production and walked away from it somewhat unimpressed. I understand they've made a number of changes since DC, all for the better (including Peters' costume, which was a major misstep), but I really have to complain about the absurdly thin scenic approach to this production. Granted, Aronson's work on the original would be out of the reach of even the most lavish budget, but this was just sad, sad yeoman's work. A bunch of scaffolding and a staircase to nowhere... and then, when the designer really has a chance to shine, the entire Loveland sequence looks like a community theatre production with a budget.

I know, it would cost almost as much as SPIDERMAN to emulate the lavishness of the original, but that's what you do with a show like FOLLIES. It's part of the core concept — and sorry, but the physical production of this revival fell waaaaaaaay short.

YRMV.

[Larry Alcott]

The line, "Hope doesn't grow on trees; we make our own . . . " is the most memorable in the show. If it's WWII melodrama then it's very fine WWII melodrama. It's especially truthful in this day and age when hope is not an easy thing to come by.

[Geoff]

‎"Follies" closed today. The show is one of my all time favorites and the current production which just wrapped in New York was a seminal event. I made a special trip to attend the first preview, saw it midway through the run, and had to return today for "one more souvenir of bliss."

Closings are generally sad affairs, but there is also a celebratory element. The cognoscenti and die hard fans all return and the show can often turn into a relentless applaud-a-thon. "Follies," at first, seemed no different: there was applause as the orchestra sounded the ominous four chords which launch the Prologue, all the principals received entrance applause, and each number was warmly and joyously received.

But I've never witnessed an audience losing its mind the way we all did after "Who's That Woman." As if on cue, 1600 of us leapt to our feet in unison right in the middle of the first act, and the deafening torrents of applause and cheers simply would not cease. The performers politely waited and then tried to move on with the show, but the audience would not be silenced as wave after wave of applause crashed onto the stage

Finally, with no end of the mania in sight, and as if in recognition of the love pouring over the footlights, the ladies embraced each other in a sort of "Follies" group hug. The gesture was riveting and cathartic. The audience relented and the show proceeded, but I think we were all slightly in awe of what had just transpired. I'm still not sure how to describe what happened other than to say it was a remarkable moment of perfect and pure theater; a moment in which audience and performers became one, completely unified in our love of theatrical art. I've never experienced anything like this in a lifetime of theatergoing and I somehow doubt I will again. As Ben and Sally would say, "I'm so glad I came."

[ccaggiano]

Wow. Geoff, thanks so much for the first-hand account. It sounds like an unforgettable performance of a truly remarkable production.

[Dr. Joseph A. Pantuso]

Wow wow wow.......a wonderfully great show.
Saw the original in 1971. This is just as good.

[Brian Barrett]

Wonderfully literate and insightful review. I will never forget also the image of Peters on the stage somehow transmitting wordlessly a lifetime of regret,angst and joy that is the folly of life.

[Stanley Schweiger]

On the second night of the "Follies In Concert," which is the one that my Wife and I attended (Sept. 7, '85),we experienced the same "audience explosion" that Geoff experienced at the recent "Follies" closing!"Who's That Woman?" has become THE iconic singular moment of the unique invention known as "The Broadway Musical!" It's as though the audience members are revisiting all of the previous musicals they have seen, and this is a moment that enables them to salute & show their affection for the awesome ceativity involved -- the singers,dancers,music,lyrics,book, orchestrations,musicians,costumes, scenery, lighting--that help to define "The Broadway Musical!" When performed well, this is the number that "says it all!"