The flop that finally flew: Why did it take 40 years for Sondheim’s Merrily We Roll Along to take off? | Musicals

I They have made enough mistakes as a critic to feel mildly angry when the judgment is justified. In 1981 I wrote enthusiastically about a new Stephen Sondheim musical called Merry We Roll Along, which I had seen in preview in New York; It was reviled by reviewers and shunned by the public, and was closed two weeks after opening. In 2023-2024, the same musical ran for a year on Broadway, winning four Tony Awards and critical acclaim. Fortunately, a live performance produced by Maria Friedman has been filmed and I urge you to watch it when it is released in cinemas next month.

I say “same music” but that’s not entirely accurate. Based on the 1934 play by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart, It’s Still the Same Story, told in reverse chronological order, about the dissolution of relationships: the success-worshipping composer and film producer, Franklin Shepard, looks back on his life and sees how time has eroded his creative partnership with the playwright, Charlie, and their mutual friendship with the novelist, Mary.

But after the show failed in 1981, Sondheim and book writer George Furth made various structural changes. It no longer begins with a student song written by Franklin but with a flashy party celebrating his recent cinematic success. The casting style has also changed. The 1981 cast was made up of fresh-faced performers who began emulating middle age and naturally transitioned into youth as the evening progressed. It is now standard practice to cast mature actors as in Friedman’s production where Jonathan Groff, Daniel Radcliffe and Lindsay Mendes pass the years with minimal edits.

I have to admit that I was wet-eyed for much of Friedman’s film: my tears were driven partly by the emotional weight of the story and partly by my enjoyment of the music. The virtue of narrative is that it will have different resonances for each individual. As in Pinter’s Betrayal, which also uses reverse chronology, it shows how life inevitably involves compromises, adjustments, and a sense of loss. Not many of us, like Franklin, transition from being aspiring songwriters to singing artists, but we can all understand how the idealistic optimism of youth gets distorted over time. Some may find a more sexual meaning to the story. In an essay on Queer Sondheim, Scott F. Stoddart sees a homosexual element in Franklin and Charlie’s friendship symbolized by what he calls the latter’s mad collapse in an issue, Franklin Shepherd Company, in which he laments his abandonment by his creative partner.

If we each find what we want in the story, we can all agree on the skill with which it is told. In his book Finishing the Hat, Sondheim explains the techniques he uses. He points out that in most musicals you get a song followed later by a repeat. Because of Merrily’s unusual structure, repetition comes first. He cites the example of “Not a Day Goes By” where Franklin’s estranged wife Beth initially sings “But you’re still part of my life/And you won’t go away” with controlled anger. When we hear the song for the second time, it is actually a celebration of Beth and Franklin’s marriage as well as Mary’s unspoken love for him. The words are very similar but take on a new meaning due to the dramatic context.

This is the show in which Sondheim also subtly takes revenge on his critics. There’s a lovely moment when a Broadway producer lectures young Franklin and Charlie about the need for mediocre arias in musicals, and adds: “I’ll let you know when Stravinsky has a big hit.” The ultimate irony is that Merrily We Roll Along itself is full of valuable tunes, like Old Friends, Good Thing Going and the title number that have been earworms for me for over 40 years. I’m always surprised by the accusation that Sondheim is a great lyricist but an imperfect musician, whose songs, though always drawn from a particular dramatic situation, lodge permanently in the memory.

If there is a fair charge against Merelli, it is that her hero, Franklin, is unsympathetic. But in this version, Groff smartly plays him not as an egomaniacal monster, but as a tragic innocent navigating life and always taking the easy choice. Mendes perfectly captures Mary’s unfulfilled romantic longings, but the most riveting performance comes from Radcliffe, who imbues Charlie with an angry neurosis and a passionate belief in the power of art to improve lives.

Whether or not Merrily herself does so is up to you to decide. But Friedman’s production, which is closely based on what she did at the Meniere Chocolate Factory in 2012, is a constant delight and shows exactly why the now-famous stir-fry is an obvious hit.