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Review: Death Becomes Her Gave Me Life
November 21, 2024, 10:08.20 pm ET

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By Brian Scott Lipton

In a Broadway season where every current musical – even the best of then -- seems slightly unsure at times about what it wants to accomplish, “Death Becomes Her,” now at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, has no such qualms. Instead, this super-stylish and super-hilarious adaptation of the 1992 film about two “frenemies” who decide to seek eternal youth seeks nothing more than to keep you wildly entertained for 2 ½ hours. And it succeeds, spectacularly. To use a phrase often used by my fellow gay men, this show (ironically) “gave me life.”

Thanks for this holiday miracle belong to director and choreographer Christopher Gattelli, who pulls off this magic act with remarkable flair, a first-rate principal cast, and a physically gorgeous ensemble (costumed magnificently and sometimes daringly by Paul Tazwell on Derek McLane’s often impressive sets).

Is it pure fluff? Well, there’s a minor (and hardly original) message here about how we over-value physical beauty over inner goodness, but Marco Pennette’s clever script (which uses some of the lines from the movie, co-written and directed by the legendary Robert Zemeckis) is most interested in snide one-liners and delicious sight gags that will keep you laughing heartily.

Still, there is heart to be found here, and it’s provided by two ladies who should be Broadway’s forever musical comedy team: Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard. The pair, longtime audience favorites, hand in career-defining performances that should be remembered at Tony Awards time. (You really, truly want to revive “Mame”? Here are your stars!)

Hilty perfectly delivers the narcissism and insecurity of Madeline Ashton, a mega-star of stage and screen (and two-time Oscar nominee as she reminds everyone at the drop of a hat), whom we first meet at the height of her fame. It’s no surprise her newest hit show is called “Me! Me! Me!,” because those words are her personal motto, no apologies given.

As Hilty makes clear in her deliciously over-the-top performance, Madeline believes everyone else is beneath her, including her loyal dresser (a hilarious Josh Lamon) and most especially, her lifelong friend Helen Sharp (Simard), a meek author who seems to have finally found romantic happiness with kindly doctor/plastic surgeon Ernest Menville (a dorkishly adorable Christopher Sieber).

But to paraphrase Ira Gershwin, champagne and destiny play funny tricks. So a mere 10 years later, Madeline is blowsy, matronly, and – above all – almost unemployable, as well as trapped in a loveless marriage to Ernest (having stolen him immediately from Helen just for spite).

In not-so-quiet desperation, Madeline turns to sassy sorceress Viola Van Horn (former Destiny Child’s star Michelle Williams, serving up killer vocals and, pardon the pun, drop-dead glamour), who can offer her clientele eternal youth and beauty, but with a steep price.

Meanwhile, Helen is now a best-selling author who may or may not be worth a million bucks, but definitely looks like it. (You can guess how that happened!) Played by Simard with peerless acidity and a piercing voice that can be heard out on 46th Street. Helen has not forgiven Madeline for stealing Ernest and wants nothing more than to see her rival dead and buried. That turns out to be much easier said than done, and the pair must ultimately re-bond (in every sense of the word) to fulfill a larger goal.

The show’s score, by Broadway newcomers Julia Mattison and Noel Carey, is consistently pleasing if only periodically outstanding. The highlights are the sardonic “This Was Then, This Is Now” for Simard, the hilarious, pun-filled “For The Gaze” for Hilty; the almost-anthemic ladies’ duet “Alive Forever” (an homage of sorts to “For Good” from “Wicked,” which Hilty starred in about 20 years ago), and a bombastically funny solo for Ernest called “The Plan,” expertly performed by Sieber.

Sadly, “Death Becomes Her” probably won’t play forever on Broadway, but it will instantly leave you more intoxicated than all the champagne (and other alcoholic beverages) seemingly consumed onstage. Heads up! Necks up! Bottoms up!

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