I was there this afternoon, in a packed TDF house, no empty seats downstairs (and I snared row L center orchestra). Whatever the preview period changes to the end, and the consequences of the diary, the show is startlingly unfocused, as if the creatives have no real idea what the piece is about. Yes, we get an 11th hour wink-wink that compares the revealed trappings to a certain bougie Florida resort (and makes a fall 2025 cheap joke about recent events that is utterly shameless in reminding the audience that these creative don't really respect this story's protagonist.)
This woman at its center remains a cipher, not an intriguing enigma. She wants, and oh, how how much she wants, and she sings about her wanting - she's a bottomless pit of amorphous desire for more - and then sings about it some more. The show has incidents, the 2008 crash, a domestic tragedy, a subsidiary character with recognizable human values; but this woman treads uninteresting water, fixated solely on acquisition and conspicuous consumption. And the creatives seem to believe the resulting portrait has culture-revealing depth and nuance and is worth somebody's time. Whose? That's what we were discussing in the men's room afterward: who the hell is the audience?
And why does it exist? Is it a cautionary tale? Why dress it up in the actual Versailles drag - a weighty, coyly executed conceit that reaches its nadir at the top of act two with a number that recalls the excised "Louis Says" from Victor/Victoria. Not a compliment.
Chenoweth, in glorious, range-traversing voice to my ears, raises the roof and emotionally beats her much exposed chest, but there's no there there in the songs, no root-for in the action, no serious reflection morphing into a fresh epiphanies. In a strained and interminable Jackie's Turn, she learns - and touts - that she's the same shallow creature she was when she launched into "Caviar Dreams" two hours earlier. The audience rose, albeit in clumps and without much energy - de rigueur in NYC - and one man shouted "Bravo!" from the mezz. But the folks on their feet were unmoved and headed for the exits. I have no idea why this got this far.
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling
Updated On: 11/5/25 at 07:53 PM