More than ever, it's clear that "Merrily We Roll Along" is about bad parenting.
A married man, Frank, has an affair. This spells the end of his marriage; his ex, Beth, takes the baby to Texas. (The marriage existed *because* of the baby. In one chilling scene, Beth has said, "I miscarried. Do you still want to tie the knot?" Unconvincingly, Frank says, "YES!" And Beth reveals the pregnancy is intact; the miscarriage story was a fiction, a way of testing Frank's love.)
As a divorced man, Frank doesn't want to spend time in Texas. So he drifts and drifts, away from his son, until he actually misses the child's high-school graduation. This is a detail I overlooked in non-Broadway productions. A big part of Frank's final crisis seems to be about this particular failure. "How did you get to be here? What was the moment?" We sense the depth of the failure because we have actually met the little boy--Frank, Jr. The actor is five or six years old, and he has some significant solos in the current production. (I don't remember this in earlier versions; it's a smart move.)
A millionaire who turns his back on his child: This person exists in the world. I can think of actual versions of this person. (And one wonders if Sondheim was reflecting on Richard Rodgers, who did a "messy" job with his daughter, Mary.) .....It's strange to make Richard Rodgers the center of a Broadway musical; he is sour and loathsome. But that doesn't mean he is unrelatable. If you squirm in the climactic numbers from "Merrily We Roll Along," it's likely because you recognize parts of yourself in the main character.
There is a story about Sondheim attending a party at an opulent theater. Guests were well-dressed; everyone was well-behaved. The evening dragged on, and people drank too much, and wardrobe malfunctions occurred. Toward the end of the party, Sondheim saw one guest angrily tossing an entree into the orchestra pit. He thought that this could be a story: the passage of time. How we move from good behavior to that certain moment when we drunkenly throw our food into an orchestra pit. That's the "plot" of "Follies," and it's also the plot of "Merrily We Roll Along."
Frank needs to be witty, self-absorbed, charming, charismatic, and ruthless. Jonathan Groff has an easy time suggesting all of these qualities; there is never any doubt that he understands the character he is playing, and he seems wonderfully relaxed (and occasionally goofy) in his role. He has unfeigned chemistry with his two main co-stars; these actors make one another laugh on-stage, and the laughter is spontaneous. Also, it's plausible, in this production, that Frank could climb out of the pit he has dug for himself. Frank never, never seems to enter full "Darth Vader" mode. In a clever and mysterious move, the director, Maria Friedman, flashes forward at the end of the evening. Frank is in his forties, staring at the audience; he has just mentally relived the last twenty years of his life. The proscenium becomes a canopy of stars; additionally, the stars extend *past* the stage, and they are scattered across the ceiling of the "house." Frank is recalling his sighting of Sputnik, near Columbia University--but, at the same time, he is here in the present, alone in the cosmos. He seems to grasp the enormity of his own disaster. So, maybe, he can change?
I still think this show takes several wrong turns. I'm never interested in Gussie Carnegie; I'm always pleased when she leaves the stage. Sondheim's score is exalted, but it's important to note that even Sondheim misfires here. (I'm thinking of "The Blob," "It's a Hit," "That Frank.") Finally, Act Two really does seem slower than Act One; as beautiful as the Juilliard/Columbia music is, it can't paper over the fact that youthful happiness isn't a compelling subject for a drama.
But that doesn't matter. I'd see this one for Jonathan Groff.
Now what needs to happen before "Night Music" can make its way back to New York?
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