
Life’s a beach and then you die. That’s a pretty fair synopsis of Beaches in each of its incarnations, beginning with a 1985 novel by Iris Rainer Dart and the 1989 film version directed by Garry Marshall. Here’s the lowdown: Two girlhood pals, a brassy would-be entertainer coming from poverty and a cautious introvert coming from wealth, accidentally meet on the Atlantic City boardwalk and thereafter waft in and out of each other’s lives, until one gets sick and takes her own sweet time passing away.
Now it’s on Broadway, gearing up for a planned national tour and subtitled A New Musical, though the property has been kicking around since 2015 at least, having jettisoned an entire score along the way. Its primary business is to wring audience tears, which the tuner doggedly attends to until a finale rendition of that bravura paean to female bonding, “Wind Beneath My Wings.” Diehard fans of the Bette Midler/Barbara Hershey movie melodrama should be well satisfied, tissues in hand; much audible sobbing could be heard at a recent matinee. But a best guess would be that no one will be crying more than the investors.
It’s mildly disconcerting to realize how little interest the show takes in the dynamics of the central relationship. As outrageous vulgarian Cee Cee Bloom (Jessica Vosk) climbs the show biz ladder from crummy saloons to posh clubs and TV stardom, bestie Bertie White (Kelli Barrett) is mostly around to admire and tell her how great she is, which seems an odd way to supply wind beneath someone’s wings unless “wind beneath your wings” is code for “sycophant.” In the movie, Hillary (as she was called) was made a hotshot ACLU attorney with a high-powered career of her own. Here, however, she just simpers and toys with the notion of law school during a loveless marriage to Main Line a-hole Michael (Ben Jacoby).
[Read David Finkle’s ★★☆☆☆ review here.]
You’d think – wouldn’t you? – that the saga of two lifelong friends would involve multiple ups and downs. But no, separated for months at a time they correspond pleasantly. Then, in a stroke of maladroit storytelling (credited to Dart and the late Thom Thomas), Bertie out of nowhere turns into an insufferable snob on a visit to Cee Cee’s Malibu estate, where a snide remark about the hostess’s stemware, I kid you not, kicks off a huge fight in which secrets are revealed, including Bertie’s having lost her virginity years before to John (Brent Thiessen), the narcissist to whom Cee Cee is now wed. And they promptly stop speaking for years. Intermission. Reconciliation must wait until Bertie gives birth to a daughter, prior to the telltale cough or fainting spell signalling for whom the bell tolls.
Vosk, a well-respected replacement on multiple occasions, originates her first Broadway role here and it won’t be her last: great pipes, arresting presence, a practiced way with a droll line. She’s not exactly “doing” Bette Midler, but rather evokes the essence of the Divine Miss M plus a few touches of Cher (with whom Dart worked back in the day); she’s totally credible as the star Cee Cee is supposed to be, selling the indifferent numbers with lyrics by Dart and music by Mike Stoller of Stoller & Leiber rock’n’roll fame. For her part, Barrett (Lara in the Doctor Zhivago musical) gets her best material in act two while wrestling with mortality, and makes the most of it.
Aside from the two leads, brash young Samantha Schwartz as brash young Cee Cee in flashbacks, and James Noone’s efficient and attractive jigsaw-piece-collage set, that’s pretty much it on the credit side of the ledger. Whichever of the co-directors, Lonny Price or Matt Cowart, was responsible for steering the supporting players into feeble sterotypical caricatures has a lot to answer for.
Beaches opened April 22, 2026 at the Majestic Theatre and runs through September 6. Tickets and information: beachesthemusical.com