“Imagine the night Shakespeare died,” the actor David Ganly tweeted on Nov. 26, just after Stephen Sondheim shook off his mortal coil at the age of 91. But if the sudden passing of the man who had been musical theater’s greatest living composer and lyricist—our greatest living composer and lyricist, period, for my money—should cast a pall over the opening of a revival of 1970’s groundbreaking Company not two weeks later, you would never have known it witnessing the exuberant mood of the audience attending a recent preview. And that’s appropriate, because for all the attention paid to his unsparing intelligence and sometimes lacerating wit, Oscar Hammerstein II’s most famous protégé was also a great documentarian of the wonder and joy in, as one of this show’s most beloved songs puts it simply, being alive.
And like Shakespeare—those who would dismiss the comparison as overstated should remember that Sondheim was also likened, on the cover of a national magazine, to God—Sondheim left us with a body of work that will be pored over and reinterpreted as long as there are imaginative directors. One such artist, Marianne Elliott, first presented this Company in London three years ago, to substantial acclaim; the Broadway transfer was originally supposed to open last year, before COVID struck. The primary twist is that Bobby, a charming and attractive bachelor turning 35, is now Bobbie, a charming and attractive bachelorette. And while this central character is still surrounded by married friends—still good and crazy people, as they’re identified in the title number—their constitution has become more diverse, including one same-sex couple and, as cast here, several interracial unions.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★★★ review here.]
None of these pairings seem out of the ordinary today, which is when this Company is set, as we are alerted in the opening number by the presence of smartphones, a conspicuous feature throughout. There can be an element of self-consciousness here, especially in the production numbers, in which Elliott and choreographer Liam Steel have leading lady Katrina Lenk wade through a maze of strutting, jutting bodies, occasionally taking cover in one of the nooks in scenic and costume Bunny Christie’s ingenious, kinetic set, framed in brilliant neon by Neil Austin’s lighting. The sense of frantic energy is no doubt meant to underline the pressure facing Bobbie as a single gal approaching her late thirties, which even in 2021 has a biological component; Steel has reimagined “Tick Tock,” a sexually charged dance number as staged by Michael Bennett in Harold Prince’s original production, as an unattached woman’s dark fever dream of marriage and, particularly, motherhood.
But the revelations in this Company more often arrive in the less fussy moments, and Lenk is prominent in them. A lissome beauty who, as anyone who caught her in The Band’s Visit or Indecent could attest, can project both sleek elegance and stark fragility, the actress sings Sondheim’s songs as they might be performed in an astute cabaret homage, taking occasional liberties with rhythm and phrasing not often heard on Broadway. While her lovely, piquant voice isn’t as technically virtuosic as that of some other cast members—the ensemble singing here can be glorious, from the all-male trio now delivering “You Could Drive A Person Crazy” to the burgeoning (and very funny) feast of “Getting Married Today”—her readings of “Someone Is Waiting,” “Marry Me A Little” and “Being Alive” shiver and gleam, caressing the nuances in these accounts of trepidation and yearning.
There are other star turns, most notably that of Patti LuPone, reprising her role in the U.K. staging (and in a previous one with the New York Philharmonic) as Joanne, whose bone-dry disenchantment LuPone has refined to predictably hilarious effect. Joanne’s relationship with Bobbie is one of several that has been adapted, meaningfully, to accommodate Company‘s central gender reassignment. There’s a new tenderness and frisson when Harry (a typically excellent Christopher Sieber) sings “Sorry-Grateful” to a woman, and a twist in the tension when our sexy heroine gets stoned with the buttoned-up David and Jenny, respectively played by Christopher Fitzgerald and Nikki Renée Daniels, both endearing. And April, the ditzy flight attendant who was among Bobby’s conquests, is now Andy, a slice of beefcake served with deadpan comic finesse by Claybourne Elder.
Company’s other commitment-phobe, Amy, has been reborn as Jamie, a man, still terrified to marry the adoring Paul, played by the adorable Etai Benson. After managing to calm Matt Doyle’s adroitly hysterical Jamie, Bobbie sings “Marry Me A Little,” one of numerous Sondheim fan favorites cut from productions of his shows through the years. “Keep a tender distance/So we’ll both be free…I’m ready,” she announces. She isn’t, quite yet, but she’s getting there, just as Bobby was, and Elliott and her own company trace that journey with a mix of intuition, invention and heart worthy of its creators.
