"It’s the relationship between Madeline and Helen that really matters here—and Hilty and Simard, two of Broadway’s most gifted musical comedians, are the musical’s greatest selling point. Death Becomes Her sneakily has it both ways: It critiques a culture that pits women against each other while also deriving most of its fun from the spectacle of women at each other’s throats. But its two stars, both terrific, embody the best kind of competition. Each can steal a show (as Simard did in Once Upon a One More Time last year), but working in tandem only seems to spur them to raise their games. They have complementary approaches to pitching jokes: Hilty tends to throw them hard straight over the plate, while Simard favors curveballs. Together they make musical-comedy magic—and musical comedy, when performed this well, never gets old."
"Especially after the inventive first scenes, the show is a bit like that too: It keeps going despite being disconnected. At some point, even though I knew it well, I lost the thread of the story and found myself waiting for the musical numbers. Even then, the more-is-more physical production eventually started to cloy (purple sets by Derek McLane, saturated lighting by Justin Townsend, congested sound by Peter Hylenski), and a feeling of overfamiliarity set in as each new sororal torture was hymned.
Still, Hilty and Simard are tireless, forever pulling vocal drama and line-reading surprises out of their Swarovski-encrusted imaginations. You do not think too often, and probably not as much as you should, about the unfortunate tradition of catfights in Broadway musicals. (Listen to “Bosom Buddies” from “Mame” and “There’s Always a Woman” from “Anyone Can Whistle.”) In any case, by the finale — a smart wrap-up equivocally called “The End” — the spicy enmity between Madeline and Helen has long since cooked down to companionate carping. Tending their empty graves, they finally have a common enemy: their own immortality."
"Humor — both black and camp — is the key here, unlike the often-leaden film which relied on special effects rather than a sharp script and knowing comic direction for its wow factor.
Everything in the musical is fantastically bigger and bolder, from Derek McLane’s goth-meets-Hollywood-excess design to Paul Tazewell’s fabulous costumes to Doug Besterman’s lush orchestrations. Charles LaPointe’s wigs are terrific, too. The tuneful score and witty lyrics are by Julia Mattison and Noel Carey, making an impressive Broadway bow."
"In a world of perpetual film adaptations coming to the stage, I am pleased to report that Death Becomes Her is an utterly ridiculous and extremely entertaining new musical — one that is a welcome addition to the Broadway landscape. Based on the 1992 cult classic film of the same name, Death Becomes Her, which opens tonight at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, just might be the best new musical of the season so far. "
"There is a miracle elixir in the campy musical “Death Becomes Her,” which opened Thursday night at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre.
I don’t mean the nuclear-pink liquid that offers eternal youth in exchange for becoming the walking dead, but the comedy chops of stars Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard.
Review: ‘Death Becomes Her’ Is the Most Fun Night Out on Broadway
BODY BEAUTIFUL
The excellent Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard garnish the comedy of “Death Becomes Her” with sharp, outrageous brilliance in this rollicking Broadway musical adaptation of the 1992 movie.
"The Zemeckis movie has one great moment. It never gets better than Streep traipsing on a hotel lobby’s circular divan in a disastrous musical version of “Sweet Bird of Youth.” On Broadway, that episode becomes a show within the show that is unimaginatively titled “Me! Me! Me!” That disappointment aside, the song “For the Gaze” delivers big time. And the timing could not be better. After this month’s major dud, “Tammy Faye,” where “the gays” are repeatedly pandered to, it’s fun to see a show that talks one on one to its core audience."
"The whizzing refusal to look deeper grows more nagging as Death Becomes Her continues. The first act ends with an impressive re-creation of one of the film’s signature CGI moments, an illusion here designed by Tim Clothier. The second ups the ante with a severed neck and a shotgun blast through the torso, tricks accomplished with careful misdirection and (to my mind, charmingly) obvious body doubles. The effects are fun, and as with Paul Tazewell’s costumes and Derek McClane’s set, a patina of cheapness keeps the thing in the mode of camp. But where you might hope for a musical to expand on, or at least more deeply interrogate, its source material, this production maintains the level of interiority suggested by Zemeckis’s film, which is to say, not much. It’s a loss: Think of Groundhog Day, using its second act to curlicue into the existential musings of secondary characters, or Legally Blonde’s deploying its title song as a melancholy beat before its own reprise. (Or even—not to set too high a bar—A Little Night Music’s score, cutting bedroom farce with deep feeling.) Death Becomes Her avoids forcing Madeline and Helen to look in the mirror and contemplate. Yes, these women would hate both mirrors and any form of introspection, but why not tell us more about Madeline’s issues with her mother? Or expand on Helen’s brief soliloquy about how, if she never ages, she’ll just wander the earth until the sun devours the planet and she gets sucked into a black hole, unable to die? The line is played for a laugh—“well, don’t be a stranger!” Madeline counters—but it’s wild and dark and if set to music, might make for a dirge both grim and hilarious."
Review: Death Becomes Her Is Broadway Musical Comedy Heaven
As it goes with all great satire, Death Becomes Her is hilarious because its fantastical story echoes developments in the real world — the underhanded competition among an overpopulated class of elites and the emergence of transhumanism as a serious idea pursued by some of the richest, most powerful people on earth. It all hits much closer to home in 2024 than it did in 1992, which makes this the perfect time for Death Becomes Her to arrive on Broadway.
"Especially after the inventive first scenes, the show is a bit like that too: It keeps going despite being disconnected. At some point, even though I knew it well, I lost the thread of the story and found myself waiting for the musical numbers. Even then, the more-is-more physical production eventually started to cloy (purple sets by Derek McLane, saturated lighting by Justin Townsend, congested sound by Peter Hylenski), and a feeling of overfamiliarity set in as each new sororal torture was hymned.
Still, Hilty and Simard are tireless, forever pulling vocal drama and line-reading surprises out of their Swarovski-encrusted imaginations. You do not think too often, and probably not as much as you should, about the unfortunate tradition of catfights in Broadway musicals. (Listen to“Bosom Buddies” from “Mame”and“There’s Always a Woman” from “Anyone Can Whistle.”) In any case, by the finale — a smart wrap-up equivocally called “The End” — the spicy enmity between Madeline and Helen has long since cooked down to companionate carping. Tending their empty graves, they finally have a common enemy: their own immortality.""
Mixed? Guess we read different reviews. Only thing not positive had to do with the unavoidable elements of the source material.
‘Death Becomes Her’ Review: A Broadway Farce of Youth and Beauty
Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard give boisterously funny performances as preening rivals in this musical version of the Robert Zemeckis film about a magical anti-aging elixir.
"“Death Becomes Her” arrives on Broadway as a silly, campy, go-for-broke show that’s filled with hearty laughs (especially in the stronger Act 1) and a pair of gutsy, zesty and highly skilled lead performances from Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard that land right where a good chunk of the Broadway-going public believe divas like these two should be landing. While looking fabulous. The aim here appears to have been to create a kind of pseudo-feminist, gayer version of “The Producers,” and while those heights are not scaled, the Mel Brooksian template is enthusiastically employed, especially within Mattison and Carey’s patter-heavy ditties and droll lyrics."
For Those With Two and a Half Hours To Spare and Who Don’t Want To Stream the Film, the Musical ‘Death Becomes Her’ May Be for You
As is so often the case with projects like this, the score seems like so much filler. The songs suggest whipped cream layered on or between plot developments. They can be fun but add little to the cake, and ultimately make the show feel bloated.