"You would never know this was a musical, I don’t think I’ve read a thing about the score."
I posed this question and someone snapped at me "there are clips available from Boston." Whatever, right? I saw it Wednesday and this is my response to the score: it's as tonally confusing as the book and direction. Of course Schwartz can find melody in any circumstance. But here, he's hovering between the attempted verisimilitude of Carol Hall and the era-splice of On a Clear Day. To my ear, neither succeeds, and in the case of the top of act 2, a number in which Jackie is thrust into the Court of Versailles, the piece is embarrassing. I said it reminded me of "Louis Says" from Victor/Victoria - a cut song, by the way - and it's not glib. The show wants to hit the centuries-apart parallels very hard, and keep underscoring them monotonously, yet cannot find a way to make the case. A shallow woman wanting to build a house like Versailles isn't a strong enough premise on which to build a story, and as a result, there's no story.
I wondered why they didn't go bolder in the conceit - make Chenoweth both Jackie and Marie Antoinette - but that would require a more investigative analysis of the title character, and maybe segue onto On a Clear Day turf. There's no there there. She sings about her bougie fantasies, the one known song, "Caviar Dream," (a little reminiscent of "Disneyland" from Smile) but the song's dream doesn't come back to haunt her, or we'd get a memorable "Jackie's Turn," which the show seems to believe it's providing in the end. I found the finale - and I won't ruin it - not remotely up to the challenge, musically or emotionally, though Chenoweth gives it the big push her voice is capable of delivering. Schwartz gives Jackie a signature motif - "Amer-i-can royal-tee!" that is used like the "unlimited" motif in Wicked. But to state the obvious: Jackie is, um, so limited, that her intoning about "royalty" is neither parody nor earnestly revealing.
The show's most awkward number is the one given to poor F. Murray in which he dons cowboy drag and sings about being a timeshare king. It's kinda sort Will Rogers Follies-esque but it just sits there, Abraham and the ensemble men stretched across the St. James warbling an arch commentary that would be toothless on SNL. The score, ultimately, is a crashing disappointment from one of musical theater's gifted pros. My subjective take that I invite anyone to rebut.
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling