When Michelle Williams emerged from the depths of the Cadillac Palace Theatre stage via hydraulic lift to belt “If You Want Perfection” to kick-start Sunday’s opening-night performance of Death Becomes Her, now enjoying a killer pre-Broadway premiere courtesy of Broadway in Chicago, the crowd erupted at the sight of the Grammy winner’s wickedly bejeweled gown and the sound of her powerful, crystal-clear voice.
As the mysterious, possibly malevolent Viola Van Horn, Williams holds the secret of eternal life ensuring that while toxic friends Madeline Ashton (Megan Hilty) and Helen Sharp (Jennifer Simard) may not be here for a good time, they will be here for a long time. A very, very long time.
The good time? That’s all ours, as Hilty and Simard go delightfully over the top in tearing each other down in the breathtaking, and breathtakingly funny, way that only terminally jealous, passive-aggressive lifelong frenemies can.
Hilty’s Madeline (or Mad, as Helen calls her) is a Broadway star and gay icon who does it all “For the Gaze,” pun very much intended and underlined by an uber-campy company dance number courtesy of director and choreographer Christopher Gattelli. When Simard’s Helen (or Hel, as Madeline dubs her) shows up backstage at Mad’s latest show, Me! Me! Me!, to induce envy by presenting her plastic surgeon fiancé, the put-downs immediately shift into high gear. Noting that Hel’s writing career hasn’t taken off, Mad recommends a career change to pharmacist because it’ll make her feel like both a doctor and a cashier. The book, by veteran sitcom writer Marco Pennette, offers zingers galore, most of which land.
The three have dinner at Mad’s place, after which she has the plastic surgeon, Dr. Ernest Menville (Christopher Sieber, whose humor and humanity sneaks up on you), for dessert. When Mad marries the doc out of pure spite, Hel has a breakdown that lands her in the loony bin. There, of course, she plots revenge.
Cut to Los Angeles, a decade later, where Mad’s career and marriage is on the rocks (her last film was The Dogstronaut), Dr. Menville is a raging alcoholic and Hel is hosting a launch party for her book detailing how Mad betrayed her. At first, Hel says, she wasn’t sure Mad would show up, until her publicist said she’d come to the opening of an envelope. Which is especially sad, Hel notes, as no one ever reads Mad’s name after the envelope is opened.
Soon, Mad and Hel realize they have both availed themselves of Viola’s shadowy live-forever treatment. Which is a problem when they end up killing each other in gruesome and decidedly unattractive ways involving holes blasted through midsections and bones sticking out of necks. The stairway fall leading to the latter injury is a brilliant, breathtaking set piece of physical comedy that gives a playful nod to the 1992 cult classic Robert Zemeckis film the musical’s based on.
Dr. Menville spackles the late ladies back together, but now they face an eternity of watching in disgust as the humans around them seek and find true love.
Hilty and Simard chew the scenery in bold performances that are as complementary as the sisters in Wicked (which must come naturally to Hilty, who played Glinda on Broadway). Mad and Hel are incapable of love or empathy, but they selfishly, misanthropically grope their way toward being undead and loving it.
The creators of Seinfeld famously said they wanted to create a sitcom world in which nobody learns and nobody hugs. Death Becomes Her embraces that ethic in a propulsive show full of gorgeous costumes, big production numbers–highlights of Julia Mattison and Noel Carey’s droll score include Mad and Hel’s duet “Hit Me” and Viola’s Act Two opener “I Warned You”–and even bigger laughs.
These women are awful and beyond redemption, but they’re also an awful lot of fun. Even in death, Mad and Hel are the life of a party musical lovers will want to attend.
Death Becomes Her runs through June 2 at the Cadillac Palace Theatre.
For a full roundup of reviews of this show, visit Theatre in Chicago.
Photo by Matthew Murphy & Evan Zimmerman
