Merrily We Roll Along movie vs. stage musical

The “Merrily We Roll Along” movie is different from the Wicked films; it’s not a film adaptation, it’s a recording of the live 2024 Tony-winning Broadway production that turned the Stephen Sondheim and George Furth musical from a notorious 40-year-old flop into an acclaimed hit, the stuff of Broadway legend.

There is something worthwhile in offering a chance at experiencing such a show to theater lovers who didn’t make it to New York or couldn’t afford Broadway prices.  Still, the film offers a different experience from the stage musical, in part because of the inherent qualities and expectations of the medium, but also because of directorial choices – some for the better, some for the worse — by Maria Friedman, director of both the Broadway production and the film. 

 “Merrily We Roll Along” tells the story of three old friends — Jonathan Groff as composer turned movie producer Franklin Shepard Jr, Lindsay Mendez as novelist Mary Flynn, Daniel Radcliffe as lyricist and playwright Charley Kringas — in reverse chronological order, from 1976 to 1957. They “start” off cynical and estranged and “end” up nineteen years earlier and eight scenes later at the birth of their friendship, idealistic and collaborative. 

Here is my interview with Maria Friedman last year, in which she offers her view as to why it was a flop and how she turned it around.

The movie starts with two smart choices. The opening titles unfold over the sounds of the overture and an animation of Sondheim’s score, intercut with closeups of the orchestra; this implicitly promises that the emphasis will be on Sondheim’s clever and tuneful songs, which is where it belongs. The two main themes of the musical – as Sondheim put it, “the souring of ideals and the erosion of friendship” – are best reflected in such songs as “Old Friends,” not just musically and lyrically but theatrically, which is to say the way the characters change within a musical number and the way the context changes with each reprise of the song. One of the most memorable songs, “Not a Day Goes By,” winds up being both about love and lost love.

The title sequence then segues into the first musical number, the title song. Jonathan Groff as Franklin Shepard Jr. is filmed in close-up throughout the scene, which is another smart choice.  Part of what Friedman believes “fixed” the musical,  as she says in the video above, is that she made it from  Franklin’s point of view, his memory play.  The close-ups of Groff throughout the movie make this clearer for me than it was on stage.

The close-ups also enhance one of the most thrilling musical numbers of the show – of any show – “Franklin Shepard Inc.,” in which Charlie takes down Franklin on live television. It shouldn’t be too surprising that the camera flatters Daniel Radcliffe, who grew up in front of one. 

But the director is too indiscriminate in the use of both closeups and cutaways. The close-ups of the ensemble undermine the choreography, and cause some confusion because these performers play different characters in different scenes. Worse, the close-ups have the effect of putting more emphasis on the “Valley of the Dolls” aspects of the plot — Franklin corrupted by fame and fortune and by his villainous second wife Gussie (Krystal Joy Brown, whose closeups are not flattering) and cheating on her with his new star Meg; Mary, turned literal falling-down drunk – and, maybe worse, drama critic — bitter from unrequited love for Franklin. If that’s not showbiz trashy enough,  a throwaway character, Gussie’s former husband Joe, was a wealthy producer until Gussie threw him away; we see him reduced to begging her for a handout.

The film medium already demands more literal interpretations than the stage, and Friedman’s camera choices sometimes double down on this quality at the expense of the musical numbers. Take, for example, “Bobby and Jackie and Jack,” a cheeky comic number about the Kennedy family. The number serve several purposes. It’s a reflection of the fun-loving “Camelot” era. It shows off the characters’ verve and talent early in their careers; it’s in effect an audition for Joe the producer, who is attending the cabaret. It’s also just fun for the actual audience.

But the director chooses to cut constantly from the number to reactions of the “audience” – primarily Joe the producer, and the disapproving parents of Franklin’s wife-to-be — as if it’s important to remind us this isn’t just a musical number, it’s part of a show-within-the- show. But why do we need to be reminded of this? “Merrily We Roll Along” is delightful despite the hoary show biz plot, not because of it.

There was a natural emphasis in live theater on the musical numbers, in both the productions Off-Broadway and Broadway, where a two hour and 45 minute running time (including a 15 minute intermission) is the norm. A 150-minute film (no intermission) that seems to give equal weight to the storyline feels too long.

This is not the last word on “Merrily Roll Along,” and not the last film. Richard Linklater is making one starring Paul Mescal, Ben Platt and Beanie Feldstein. Sondheim lovers need wait only until its release in 2040. The plan is to film it over the next twenty years, so that the actors actually age.

Author: New York Theater

Jonathan Mandell is a 3rd generation NYC journalist, who sees shows, reads plays, writes reviews and sometimes talks with people.

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