Death Becomes Her – Frenemies Forever!

The concept of a Fountain of Youth, present since Herodotus’ writings in the 5^th century BC, gave birth to endless search legends and aspirational fiction. As people live longer, maintaining the bloom of younger days seems to grow more important. We don’t culturally accept aging. Ask any actress.

When the 1992 film Death Becomes Her was released, there were over 800 thousand surgical procedures in the United States. In 2022, there were over 1.87 million. Exceptional longevity is pursued with vitamins and supplements, extremely reduced calorie intake and targeted exercise. Ozempic and Wegovy, created for weight management, are commonplace despite cost. Worldwide, the cosmetic industry is expected to reach $108.41 billion in 2024. U.S. fitness, gym, and health club industry is valued at $40.6 billion

Megan Hilty, Jennifer Simard, Josh Lamon and Christopher Sieber

The idea of an affordable youth elixir (affordable to the rich) is eminently attractive. Of course, as any Twilight Zone devotee knows, no Mephistophelean pact comes without small print. Here, the devil by any other name is Viola Van Horn (Michelle Williams embodying neither charisma or sizzle) who cattily sings about sagging breasts and turkey necks in the opening number as only one who has neither can.

This is an aria da capo story about college besties – smart, quiet Helen Sharp (Jennifer Simard), and ambitious, egotistical Madeline Ashton (Megan Hilty) – who became enemies when Ashton badmouthed her chum and serially stole her boyfriends.

Years later, both women are of a certain age. Helen, now an aspiring writer, and her fiancée, reconstructive plastic surgeon, Dr. Ernest Menville (Christopher Sieber), go see musical theater star Madeline in a production satirically called Me! Me! Me! We watch her perform I do it “For the Gaze,” which of course sounds and looks like “the gays” during which she’s sequentially, riotously costumed as major icons.

Megan Hilty and the Company

Helen is plain, but loved and in love, which she flaunts. Madeline is glamorous and successful but alone, something she intends to rectify immediately upon discovering Ernest’s profession. When he admires her “upper register,” she responds, “Thank you, they’re real.” Some jokes sail by so quickly, you’ll get whiplash.

Backstage, the women take fluent potshots at one another. Feeling secure – big mistake – Helen accepts an invitation for the couple to dine at Madeline’s lavish apartment. The hostess literally pushes her boobs into Ernest’s face (both actresses are well endowed) and acts coy like it was an Olympic sport. (This would be more effective were the hapless husband gradually seduced.) Next thing we know, Madeline and Ernest are getting married – “sponsored by Wicked because I have been changed for good” – in an over the top ceremony so blatantly about the self-absorbed bride, Ernest should go running for the hills. He doesn’t.

Jennifer Simard, Christopher Sieber

Let’s take a moment to praise Josh Lamon as Stefan, Madeline’s put-upon dresser, butler, gopher, musician, confidante…whose consistent dry-witted delivery and attitude are a treat, and Taurean Everett
as Viola’s good right arm Chagall, whose presence and bearing adds mystique.

While Madeline’s career shelf life diminishes, a situation she takes out on Ernest, Helen gets a book published. Invited to a launch, the actress wants her husband to “scrape and peel the years off”- not (yet) his kind of surgery. At the event, derogatory remarks find their way to her ears. Helen, meanwhile, has transformed into the glamazon Madeline once was. Ernest is gobsmacked, the last straw on top of a hay stack of regrets.

Desperate, Madeline finds her way to Viola’s establishment and is seduced into drinking the brew. “Close up: Madeline conflicted.” Et voila, youth restored! She returns home to find Helen trying to convince Ernest to murder her. The women discover their source of newfound youth is the same. In truth, neither of them care about him anymore. Christopher Sieber is deft and game, grand with a look or reaction, but given too much time without enough to do, he becomes a device.

Jennifer Simard and Christopher Sieber

Fury erupts. Madeline and Helen fight. Doubles are obviously used for part of this which is annoying when faces are seen. Recreated special effects from the film include a nifty sight gag by illusionist Tim Clothier and a gloriously executed fall by stunt artist Warren Yang. Both women do damage. Viola appears (a few times too often) to remind the ladies they were told to take care of their bodies. Madeline and Helen can’t die but they can – suffer malformation. Here’s the small print. Only Ernest can repair them. He tries to leave.

The plot thins from here, though Ernest’s choice provides an unexpected zinger. I prefer the less dragged out, less formulaic film ending. Both versions offer a moral. The women can’t help but grudgingly support one another. Time is not on their side.

One regrettably missed opportunity is a glimpse of Viola’s Ball for those who survive through decades. Instead of costumed dancers, we should see Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Marilyn Monroe and other recognizable celebrities, who ostensibly faked their deaths but secretly live on in accordance with rules
of access to the elixir.

Megan Hilty, Jennifer Simard

Megan Hilty is warm and comic-quick; believably excessive; super with dead pan comebacks. Madeline’s ego is a gift wrapped package. Jennifer Simard is brilliant, a Tony nomination, if not the win. Remarks are knife-like, venom bubbles, physical comedy is inventive, her mad scene is one for the ages. The actresses key off one another to perfection. Both deliver fine, often clarion vocals.

It’s been a long time since Book Writing was foremost in a review, but Marco Pennette’s virulent, comic satire rings all the bells. Music and lyrics by Julia Mettison and Noel Carey, though not memorable, imbue parentheses with narcissistic glee and vitriol. Two stand out as dense and talky; otherwise songs articulate the moment.

Director Christopher Gattelli implements skilled timing both verbally and physically. The show is peppered with wonderful moments – Helen is literally riding Ernest when Madeline returns from Viola’s; the noted fall is remarkable…

Scenic design by Derek McLane, which extends into the theater itself, is aptly grandiose. Ernest’s basement workshop emerges animated fun.

Paul Tazwell’s costumes range from tacky to opulently tacky. Counter intuitively, Viola’s dancers’ wear all-in-ones with diagonal cut-outs that make even the best bodies appear ugly. Gowns for the rivals use enough fabric to bunt the proscenium. The talented designer could be a more flattering while still going over the top. A leopard ensemble matching her couch and Madeline’s rose wedding coat are exceptions.

 (Read Fay Weldon’s The Life and Loves of a She-Devil for a woman’s wickedly funny revenge novel.)

Photos- Matthew Murphy + Evan Zimmerman

Death Becomes Her
Book by Marco Pennette
Music and Lyrics by Julia Mattison and Noel Carey
Based on the Universal Pictures film written by Martin Donovan and David Koepp; Directed by Robert Zemeckis
Directed/Choreographed by Christopher Gattelli
Lunt-Fontaine Theatre  
205 West 46^th Street