Like many at this university, I am, unashamedly, a (reformed) Theatre Kid. Perhaps unlike most, I bounded into my interviews at Oxford and sang Stephen Sondheim’s praises for a good third of my ‘deeply serious’ conversation with world leading academics. It is therefore unsurprising that when Marianne Elliott’s revival of Company hit the West End in 2018, I quickly became obsessed.
Company follows Bobbie, a 35 year-old singleton who, throughout the musical, interacts with their seemingly merry band of coupled-up friends, and discovers what it means to love and commit to marriage. What makes Elliott’s revival so special, and indeed what I find personally powerful, is her choice to gender-swap a number of characters within this ensemble. This includes the choice to recast Bobbie as a woman, making the discussion surrounding marriage and age in the musical more topical and relevant to today’s audiences.
The score as a whole is unsurprisingly cohesive and beautifully satisfying. Sondheim’s recent cameo appearance in Glass Onion, reminded me that this composer was one who loved puzzles of both the mental and verbal variety, and such virtuosity is undoubtedly on display in Company.
For instance, the uncanny ‘Bobbie’ motif littered throughout the musical creates a sense of unity in a narrative which, let’s be honest here, is pretty disjointed. Let us not forget about the simply delicious, Sondheim-trademarked polyphony which makes my inner-music student sing. The composer’s ability to layer beautifully angular melodies on top of one another in numbers such as ‘Company’ results in complex, knotty soundscapes which are just a delight for the ears.
They say you are only as good as your team, and Sondheim certainly struck gold when the cast for this revival was revealed. Theatre titans such as Patti LuPone, Rosalie Craig, and Jonathan Bailey came together to create a stunning sound as a musical ensemble, and left audiences in stitches with their comedic prowess during the show’s run at the Gielgud Theatre four years ago.
One of the most successful results of Elliott’s decision to turn Bobbie into a female character is Sondheim’s re-stylisation of ‘You Could Drive a Person Crazy’, a light, comical song sung by Bobbie’s trio of boyfriends with whom she finds herself entangled throughout the course of the story. In earlier iterations of the production, this high-energy number was performed in an Andrews Sisters-stye trio, largely to suit the high tessitura of the female girlfriends for whom the song was originally composed. In this production, a quasi-barbershop idiom is applied to the song. This leads to lush, chromatic, close-harmonies, ably sung by George Blagden, Richard Fleeshman, and Matthew Seadon-Young, which not only makes my ears extremely happy, but also produces ideal car karaoke content – try it, I dare you.
Maybe I have a crush on George Blagden, maybe I don’t (I’m not at liberty to say), but nonetheless his breath control and vocal skill are brought to the fore in ‘Another Hundred People’. Particular highlights include his subtle growl on the word “stare” each time the refrain appears, which helps to musically communicate his character ‘PJ’ as a gregarious and brassy individual. This track also showcases the power of reorchestration, as a sense of modernity is established through the use of ‘bossa-nova’ style bass guitar accompaniment contrasted against the original, frantically arpeggiated piano accompaniment which has characterised this song since its original conception over fifty years ago. This coupling of the pre-existing with the new is what makes this revival, and indeed this recording, so seamless and natural.
You could say that Jonathan Bailey chose to take the iconically unhinged anthem ‘Getting Married Today’ at a slower pace than his foremothers: Jayma Mays in Glee, Carol Burnett, and Julie Andrews. To the haters I say leave the sweet, sweet man alone. His ability to maintain an American accent at such a ferocious speed is both a testament to his ability as an actor and his commitment to portraying the neurotic and anxious Jamie. Such commitment compliments Sondheim’s witty and charming rewrites of ‘lunch’ to ‘brunch’ within the dense lyrics of the song, demonstrating that Sondheim’s awareness of millennial culture knows no bounds.
Interpolated in the score are three interjections, from Rosalie Craig’s Bobbie. If her vocal quality shimmers in the ensemble numbers, then it simply shines in solos such as ‘Marry Me a Little’, in which Bobbie’s eagerness to fulfil the societal norm of marriage is ably communicated through Craig’s powerful mezzo sound. Her interpretation in songs such as ‘Being Alive’ and ‘Someone is Waiting’ in particular showcases a certain self-aware loathing that actors such as Raúl Esparanza and Neil Patrick Harris failed to capture in their characterisations of Bobby. Perhaps this awareness is thanks to the gender-swap casting choice by Elliott, as single (approaching) middle-aged men such as the original Bobby, are generally much less taboo than the female counterpart. In fact, her vocal tone communicates almost a sense of embarrassment to be agonising over such seemingly ‘natural’ life processes.
It would be remiss of me to finish this article without talking about our Lord and Saviour, Patti LuPone, and her snarky interpretation of ‘The Ladies Who Lunch’. When the show ran on the West End, LuPone’s mere appearance at the top of this scene warranted a standing ovation – and for good reason. LuPone characterises the jaded and has-been socialite Joanne, who seems to have an almost messianic control over Bobbie’s destiny across the show’s narrative, through her powerful nasal belt. Her vocal timbre is ideal for Joanne, and neatly contrasts against the re-orchestration of this anthem into a quasi-jazz club standard, with humming bass guitars and soft taps against the snare drum. This recording, like LuPone herself, simply exudes bitter coolness.
This particular revival carries a lot of personal memories of mid-teenagehood for me. So it is little surprise that when the production’s recording was released in 2019, I found myself wading in and out of this album, each time gaining a different reading, a new nuance found within the album. When I think back to my last full listen of this album prior to this one, I was a dazed 16 year-old in lockdown, desperate to feel once more the themes of togetherness and connection which permeate this score. Thinking about this while listening to it obsessively over the past few days has reminded me that this album is simultaneously timeless and yet also allows for emotional growth, both within the characters themselves and the listener.
Rediscover it again, or go listen to it for the first time – Company numbers such as ‘Side by Side’ will undoubtedly remind you of the importance of friendship and humour. I guarantee you will find yourself quietly smiling at Sondheim’s musical shrewdness.