In the new Broadway musical "Death Becomes Her," a so-so 1992 movie gets a stunning makeover.
Headlined by Meryl Streep, Goldie Hawn and a slew of special effects, the film followed two vain women in their desperate quest for eternal youth and beauty -- with a supernatural twist. Directed by Robert Zemeckis, the black comedy earned mixed reviews and middling B.O., but there was something about its mix of camp and surreal, body-contorting special effects that developed a following over the years.
Now, in a major glow-up produced by Universal Theatrical Group, the story has been reconceived, refreshed and reborn by a savvy creative team led by director Christopher Gattelli as a big Broadway musical. The transformative difference between the two is that the just-skin-deep characters are now free to be much more extravagant in a musical-comedy way -- with the accent on comedy -- that much better matches the audaciousness of the death-defying premise.
The show, which had a run in Chicago, signals it's going to be a lot more entertaining and musically smart from the start. It opens with a glam reveal of Michelle Williams (formerly of Destiny's Child) as the mysterious, audience-teasing and extravagantly dressed sorceress Viola van Horn (Isabella Rossellini in the film), backed by an ensemble of hot-bod dancers all temptingly attired.
It's quickly followed by an over-the-top number from the fictional musical "Me, Me, Me," with Megan Hilty simply smashing as narcissistic star Madeline Ashton (Streep in the film). Belting out "For the Gaze" -- pun on the word "gays" very much intended -- Hilty hysterically shows the diva's shameless pandering as well as her obsession with the spotlight.
Humor -- both black and camp -- is the key here, unlike the often-leaden film which relied on special effects rather than a sharp script and knowing comic direction for its wow factor.
Everything in the musical is fantastically bigger and bolder, from Derek McLane's goth-meets-Hollywood-excess design to Paul Tazewell's fabulous costumes to Doug Besterman's lush orchestrations. Charles LaPointe's wigs are terrific, too. The tuneful score and witty lyrics are by Julia Mattison and Noel Carey, making an impressive Broadway bow.
The musical's wickedly funny book is by Broadway newbie Marco Pennette (TV's "Caroline in the City," "Ugly Betty") who gives the film much more than a nip and a tuck; he gives it a major lift. The storyline is cleaner, the characters are clearer, and the pace and the laughs are now non-stop.
The script follows the broad outline of the film: Arriving backstage after Madeline's show is her longtime doormat of a friend, Helen Sharp (Jennifer Simard taking on the Hawn role) and her fiance Ernest Menville (Christopher Sieber, in a part played in the film by Bruce Willis), a plastic surgeon with an altruistic calling. The voluptuous Madeline steals Ernest away, sending Helen into a downward spiral.
Ten years later, the aging Madeline has found that her star has fallen and she's resorted to doing infomercials for beauty creams, now playing the "before" to a supple starlet's "after." Helen, on the other hand, has blossomed from dowdy to dazzling, and is now a best-selling author bent on revenge and wooing back Ernest.
Desperate, Madeline finds a potion endowing her with eternal youth -- but with a few Faustian caveats. Now revitalized, Madeline confronts Helen, who has also gulped the elixir, and wild smackdowns and realignments follow. (Illusionist Tim Clothier playfully recreates the film's grotesque, neck-twisting battle damages.)
That sense of fun, and ego for its own sake, is the show's go-to, with Pennette and company eschewing deeper meaning or morality in its cynical storytelling. There's no talk of "inner beauty," and even a whiff of sentiment gets the hook. Depending on your comic tastes, you're either on board for this ultimate vanity project or not.
Veteran choreographer Gattelli finally earns his major Broadway directing credit in an assured and spectacular fashion, as well as providing the choreo which ranges from spoofy showbiz schlock to slinky sensuality.
Hilty and Simard are perfectly paired, with the former going hysterically broad as Simard offers a contrasting approach, effectively leaning into the simmering madness of Helen. Both make the most of their solo songs: "Falling Apart" for Hilty, "Madeline" for Simard. Together, they bring the 11 o'clock number, "Alive Together," to withering heights.
As the milquetoast Earnest, Sieber skillfully plays straight man with plenty of comic reaction shots, and gets a star turn in his meltdown number, "The Plan." Williams brings a sexy iciness as Viola and delivers the power notes from the dark side.
Also scoring big laughs is Josh Lamon as Madeline's beleaguered personal assistant. (Lamon -- and Taurean Everett as Viola's condescending major domo -- are so much more than the "ensemble" listing they receive in the program credits.)
The show's potential shelf-life looks long for New York as well as for the road, ever hungry for a hit. After all, desperate dreams of youth, beauty and immortality are forever favorites.
