Billed as a documentary and musical hybrid, Sondheim On Sondheim at the Seymour Centre sits awkwardly somewhere in the middle. It’s the perfect primer to the man and his career, but it doesn’t make for a fully satisfying piece of theatre.
A large screen hangs over the stage, on which Stephen Sondheim relates the familiar story: the divorce of his parents, the hateful mother, the childhood salvaged by meeting Oscar Hammerstein and his wife, who would become de facto parents. A cast of eight watches in awe, and intermittently they turn and provide illustration – Sondheim describes the genesis of a song, then we hear it belted out. The video footage itself is, of course, catnip, and Sondheim emerges as perceptive and avuncular as ever.
But shorn of context, the performances, even the songs themselves, can feel cursory; slickly done but uninvolving. Jay James-Moody and Squabbalogic were last sighted at the Hayes Theatre, where their The Drowsy Chaperone triumphed. That was another show infused with a love of Broadway lore, with another omniscient narrator commenting on the action. But The Drowsy Chaperone built up a head of steam, whereas Sondheim On Sondheim feels like a showcase, rather than a show.
The momentum-stymieing unwieldiness of the show’s format is occasionally transcended through terrific individual performances, as in Rob Johnson’s rendition of ‘Franklin Shepard Inc’ and Louise Kelly’s ‘Loving You’, but taken as a whole it’s all a bit colourless. It’s telling that the performers are dressed identically, in suits and suit pants. They look like ushers, and there’s a curatorial quality to the entire production. Sondheim On Sondheim is a show of admirable parts, but the stitching frays.
3/5 stars
Sondheim On Sondheim played at the Seymour Centre until Saturday October 18.
