Isn’t it remarkable how you can be surrounded by a roomful of people and feel completely, utterly, terrifyingly alone?
In Marianne Elliott’s pandemic-postponed, gender-bent revival of the Stephen Sondheim marriage-minded musical Company, our hero, the singleton Bobbie (Katrina Lenk)—Bobby ever since the 1970 Harold Prince–directed premiere, until this production’s West End debut in 2018—is “surprised” by all of her closest friends on her 35th birthday: Crammed into her tiny New York apartment, the married couples Sarah (Jennifer Simard) and Harry (Christopher Sieber), Susan (Rashidra Scott) and Peter (Greg Hildreth), Jenny (Nikki Renée Daniels) and David (Christopher Fitzgerald), Jamie (Matt Doyle) and Paul (Etai Benson), and Joanne (Patti LuPone) and Larry (Terence Archie) shower her with pricey gifts (“It cost so much I almost passed out,” jokes Paul) and a cake that seems to have Duracell-powered candles. And even though Bobbie thanks them all—“I am touched”—she looks like she’s about to have her teeth drilled. She’d clearly rather be anywhere else…perhaps cozied up in a chair with the fifth of Maker’s Mark she just pulled out of her purse, or curled up in bed with one of the men she’s seeing: the Dionysian artist-type PJ (Bobby Conte), the sweet but dim flight attendant Andy (Claybourne Elder), and the preppy Theo (Manu Narayan)—each handsome and intriguing in his own right, and none a good long-term prospect for her.
[Read Elysa Gardner’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
After the celebratory opening number (“Company,/ Lots of company!/ Life is company!/ Love is company!/ Company!”)—which sounds spectacular thanks to the 14-member orchestra perched above the stage at the Jacobs Theatre—Bobbie earns her escape and heads down the rabbit hole, Alice in Wonderland–style, into scenes with “those good and crazy people,” her “married friends.” Of all the Companys that I’ve seen—the 1995 Roundabout version with Boyd Gaines, the 2002 Kennedy Center production with John Barrowman, the 2007 Tony-winning John Doyle–directed revival starring Raúl Esparza, the 2011 New York Philharmonic production with an all-star cast led by Neil Patrick Harris—this one makes the strongest case for everything taking place in Bobbie’s mind. Some people may see the neon-edged cubicles by Elliott’s frequent collaborator Bunny Christie (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time; People, Places and Things) as limiting, but they’re supremely effective in conveying how we compartmentalize our lives—not to mention the impossibly small size of so many NYC apartments. (Plus, it’s great fun looking for the number 35 in each of the set pieces, like a theatrical Where’s Waldo? You’ll have no trouble finding it in the final scene. The “35” mylar balloons have grown so large they basically fill a whole room in Bobbie’s apartment. Metaphor alert!) And if Christie’s set doesn’t make it crystal-clear, the “Tick Tock” sequence in Act 2 certainly does: Originally conceived by Michael Bennett as a dance for the dynamite Donna McKechnie—and often cut entirely from subsequent productions—the orchestral number is here played as a dream (nightmare?) sequence in which Bobbie envisions herself in various states of cohabitation, marriage, pregnancy, and motherhood with the men in her life. Was it my imagination, or did none of those Bobbies look at all happy?
This is why changing the main character from Bobby to Bobbie works so well: The character is turning 35. “I mean, what kinds of friends would surprise you on your thirty-fifth birthday?” she asks in the first scene. That’s not such a milestone age for a man. But for a single woman—the pressure is on, especially if she wants to have children. (Unless she can afford to freeze her eggs and undergo subsequent fertility treatments…God bless modern medicine!) This also might be why the current Company will hit women—perhaps unmarried women, specifically—just a little bit harder than men.
Naturally, there have been a few other character gender swaps as well: The aforementioned eligible bachelors our hero is juggling now sing “You Could Drive a Person Crazy”; it may no longer be an Andrews Sisters–style number, but the three-part harmonies are as groovy as ever. Amy—the reluctant bride who sings “Getting Married Today”—has become Jamie the reluctant groom; Matt Doyle’s take on the warp-speed, tongue-twisting tune is simply marvelous. And Bobbie’s impulse proposal to Jamie (“Marry me! And everybody’ll leave us alone!”) is just as ridiculous as Bobby’s impulse proposal to Amy always was. “It’s just that you have to want to marry somebody, not just somebody,” Jamie explains gently, leading to Bobbie’s Act 1–ending “Marry Me A Little”—the stop on the road on the way to the show-ending “Being Alive.” Even though she proclaims “I’m ready now,” she’s clearly not: “Love me just enough./ Warm and sweet and easy,/ Just the simple stuff,” she coos. Lenk—a Tony winner for The Band’s Visit—really gets to show her range as an actress in Company.
One unexpected side effect of the Bobbie transformation: the sudden stinging nature of “The Ladies Who Lunch,” which LuPone shakes and stirs and serves with icy perfection, all to a jazzy beat. These ladies were always sort of ambiguous figures. (Unless you live on the Upper East Side, and then you probably know some women who are “Lounging in their caftans and planning a brunch/ On their own behalf.” But I won’t name any names.) Yet now, Joanne is staring square at Bobbie when she’s singing this verse: “And here’s to the girls who just watch—/ Aren’t they the best?/ When they get depressed, it’s a bottle of scotch/ Plus a little jest.” Okay, Bobbie drinks bourbon, but there’s no question who Joanne means; at that moment, Lenk’s Bobbie is about to crawl underneath the table. (And Joanne continues to needle her later in the scene: “You’re always outside, knocking at the door while everybody is inside dancing at the party.”) Incidentally, LuPone sings the song entirely seated—she doesn’t even need to stand to deliver that punch to the gut.
After that, you might expect “Being Alive” as a four-alarm fiery power ballad, which is often how you hear it. But that’s not Lenk’s style. Hers is a prayer—she’s on her knees for at least one verse—and a song of surrender. You can hear the vulnerability and fear in her voice, and see the triumph. Sometimes, being alone is exactly where you need to be.
Company opened Dec. 9, 2021, at the Jacobs Theatre. Tickets and information: companymusical.com
