I had the highest of hopes walking into the theatre. Linda Bloodworth-Thomason's finely-honed razor-sharp tongue from writing/creating Designing Women (a show full of well-drawn, individually driven women characters) was at the helm of the book. The music was by tried-and-true hit machines Holland-Dozier-Holland. An experienced director, Simon Phillips, fresh from the Broadway spectacle "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert", in charge of the show. How could it miss?
Disastrously, as it turns out. The immensely talented cast turns up and does their best, but they have nothing to work with. Clumsy scenes, generic, forgettable songs and cardboard characters are all this show has to offer.
First, Linda's wrought a cumbersome, meandering mess of a book, lifting all the best dialogue from the movie and offering very little new material, which never seems to settle into a narrative that lets us get to know and like the lead characters. Each of the lead actresses is really just doing an impression of the respective stars of the movie. What else CAN they do? There's no real character to play. The show us utterly reliant on the movie to give you the gist of what's happening.
The composing team start the evening off with a LONG prologue using their entire catalog of oldie hits (3), and they toss some recurring verses in throughout the show; a curious choice, since they really lend nothing to the story. Otherwise, the original music consists entirely of generic, identical and forgettable songs that connect neither with the story or the characters. Each of the three scorned wives is given a ballad with a BIG MOMENT in it, begging for spontaneous applause, but ultimately coming to nothing because the song is about nothing. One example: Early in the prologue, the ladies as college graduates vow to shoot "beyond the moon" with their lives' goals. Annie (Diane Keaton in the film) has written a children's book about a little girl's fascination with the moon. Then, when it comes time for Annie's BIG NUMBER, it's not about the moon, or her dreams. It's about "my mind is a whirl of confusion" that could have been sung by any of the Wives. Nothing personal about any of the songs that connect the audience with the character with the music with the show. Lazy. This show might have been better served using ONLY songs from the period. And how
Phillips' direction is likewise lazy and uninspired. Every setting, whether a cozy kitchen or a department store, is stretched to take up the entire stage. This makes every scene an endurance test as actors have to struggle to inhabit each expanse to us the space. A trip to the bar for a refill on a martini might require a day's provisions. Scene changes are awkward as well. An intimate two-character scene becomes a song and, halfway through the chorus, the set, furniture and other characters are swept off into the wings, leaving the singer in a spotlight center stage. What?
The whole show culminates it a text-book perfunctory finale with sequins and glitz just because apparently, someone heard that's how you end a Broadway show. The company should have been less concerned with how to END a show and focused more on how to START one. This show needs to go back to the beginning with a New Director, a new score and give the book back to Rupert Holmes (the original book-writer before LBT stepped in). If it survives it's Chicago try-out, I'd be embarrassed to say I lived in Chicago.