Merrily We Roll Along Review: Signature’s Rewarding Revival
Sondheim's Merrily We Roll Along tells a sardonic tale of friendship and regret, recounted backward through time.
The trusty stewards of Stephen Sondheim at Signature Theatre roll into a new season, unpacking the maestro’s demanding but rewarding musical Merrily We Roll Along.
The show, with music and lyrics by Sondheim and a book by his Company collaborator George Furth, tells a haunting showbiz tale in reverse chronological order, charting a best friendship from after it’s ended, back to where it began. Merrily often finds its characters making merry, but at its heart it’s a breakup story, tinged with regret, suited to Sondheim’s minor-key melodies.
The score is also full of bold, brassy flourishes, not unlike Signature’s new production, staged and choreographed by artistic director Matthew Gardiner. In tone, performance, and design, the production captures Merrily’s tension between glamour and heartache, success and regret.
Wilson Chin’s snazzy set, bordered on either side by spiral staircases corkscrewing up to the rafters, speaks volumes about the fabulous life of lead character Frank Shepard (Jason Gotay). A rich and influential former composer-turned-film producer, he’s the 1970s American dream, the life of the party, according to shimmying group number “That Frank.”
Although something about his swinging Bel Air pad suggests the party’s gone on too long. The first, biggest clue might be Frank’s guest, Mary Flynn (Melanie Field), introduced as his oldest, dearest friend, who shuts down a lavish party with her drunken rant about the empty lives led by Frank and his crowd of hangers-on.
Mary’s a bitter — but witty — drunk. Field’s fine portrayal offers a shade more bitterness than wit, though — perhaps a statement on Mary’s fate, winding up a drama critic when she started out as a writer with real potential.
As the story moves forward, and time slips backward, from 1976, to ’73, to ’68, and so on (cleverly articulated in reverse-motion choreography), Mary’s also meant to hold a torch for Frank, who never is, or was, looking her way. But that layer of unrequited romance is painted pretty thin in the rapport created by Field and Gotay.
Their performances more credibly convey the air of “Old Friends,” with Mary acting over the years as the buffer and/or glue between Frank and Charley (Jake Loewenthal), third in their trio of pals. They all started out as strivers in cramped New York apartments, thinking their friendship was unbreakable. Yet, from scene one, we know Frank and Charley’s bond was severed somewhere along the way.
They started out as best friends and partners in music — Frank the composer, Charley the lyricist. Their partnership forms another sort of unrequited romance. Charley constantly urges Frank to follow his (and their) artistic dreams, competing with girlfriends, wives, and golden opportunities for his partner’s full attention.
When we meet Charley, he’s already reached his point of no return, expressed with entertaining exasperation in “Franklin Shepard, Inc.,” a wry account of trying to put up with Frank’s success. Loewenthal bites into the showcase number with gusto, packing Charley’s frustrated screed with funny physicality and hints of genuine loss.
As the object of such intense loving and longing, Gotay’s Frank is not quite the magnetic, center-of-the-universe the show intends him to be. For a self-assured virtuoso who attracts lovestruck singer Beth (Kerstin Anderson), is pursued by movie-star Gussie (Maria Rizzo), and juggles mistress Meg (Alondra Trinidad-Colon), along with two complicated best friendships, this Frank feels a little feckless.
This is a guy who, as demonstrated going back 20 years, almost always chooses himself. That implies an underlying killer instinct that Gotay doesn’t seem committed to, although he’s an able interpreter of the songs.
Overall, the music is a blast, even when the mood skews sad. Bolstered by music director Jon Kalbfleisch’s dynamic 12-piece orchestra, the cast and ensemble find a unified sound of the ’60s and ’70s, as conceived by Sondheim in the ’80s. And the one or two performers whose singing sails off-pitch, à la James Whalen as ill-fated producer Joe Josephson, save themselves with a strong characterization.
The poignant substance of Merrily We Roll Along comes through clearly in the performances, and in the ever-present irony inherent in the backward structure. Characters declare they’ll achieve goals that we’ve already seen them abandon, and vow never to do things we’ve already seen them do again and again.
None of us really knows what we’ll do in the future, or where the journey will take us. There are “plenty of roads to try,” the company sings in the title tune, and success and regret might await together at the end of whichever road you take.
Merrily We Roll Along (★★★★☆) runs through Nov. 1 at Signature Theatre, 4200 Campbell Ave. in Arlington, with a Pride Night performance Sept. 18, and Discussion Night performances Sept. 23 and Oct. 13. Tickets are $47 to $141. Call 703-820-9771, or visit sigtheatre.org.
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