Audiences going to the musical “Beaches” are likely to know what to expect: the story of a decades-long, female friendship with plenty of schmaltz, some sass, and a mega-hit song, “Wind Beneath My Wings.”
The musical, which began its development a dozen years ago — and most recently in a 2024 Calgary production, is based on the 1985 novel by Iris Rainer Dart which “inspired” the 1988 Touchstone Pictures film starring Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey, which had a screenplay by Dart and Mary Agnes Donoghue.
The sisterhood saga was remade, less notably, as a 2017 Lifetime television movie starring Idina Menzel and Nia Long — with Dart as co-screenwriter. But it’s the earlier hit film— and the character tailor-made to Midler’s persona — that most likely will be on theater-goers’ minds.
Sadly there’s little wind beneath this uninspired musical’s thin and tattered wings. Even the film’s critic-defying, pinky-swearing fanbase may be disappointed in the barebones production, jarring plotting, tired dialogue and ham-handed staging. A tour is slated after the limited Broadway run.
As in the novel, the musical — which Dart again co-scripted, this time with Thom Thomas — begins in the ‘80s with fictional singing sensation Cee Cee Bloom (Jessica Vosk) rehearsing a number for her long-running TV variety show. Receiving an urgent phone call, she impulsively exits without explanation. Of course, a flashback follows.
It’s 1951 on an Atlantic City beach where the 10-year-old, red-headed Cee Cee (Samantha Schwartz) is performing in a kiddie show. While under the boardwalk, literally, she meets pretty little Bertie (Zeya Grace), lost and alone. Bertie, a polite, grammar-precise, deb-destined daughter of WASP fortune is instantly dazzled by the pint-sized Jewish dynamo who peppers her speech with showbiz slang and Yiddish expressions.
After that encounter, they stay in touch via letters until years later when Bertie (Kelli Barrett), fleeing from a controlling mother — and her own wedding — seeks out Cee Cee, who is a struggling actress in a summer stock company. It’s there they begin their in-person relationship as young adults.
The musical remains a cliche-filled melodrama reminiscent of film vehicles for Joan Crawford or Barbara Stanwyck. There’s misperceived betrayals, a surprise pregnancy, sudden abandonment, a sentimental reconciliation, a fatal illness and a tearful farewell. But for this uninspired outing you can leave the hankies at home.
The film made smart and economical use of a few atmospheric tunes such as “Up on then Roof,” and “The Glory of Love,” interpreted by a single lead character who is a charismatic performer. Here the musical spotlight is shared with others, and to lesser effect.
The songs are by composing legend Mike Stoller, now 93, and a master tunesmith during the era in which much of the story spans. The musical numbers have a pleasant old-school Broadway feel mixed with pop and swing flavors. But none stand out and a few evoke templates of past show tunes. A duet by the women’s husbands suggests the condescending males of Sondheim’s “Agony.” There’s also the scent of a Kander and Ebb in a novelty number about each woman wishing they could be like the other.
But that’s just it. Here opposites — classy and brassy — are distractions, with odd-couple joking substituting for something more substantial. Their effect on each other is also unbalanced with Cee Cee seeing Bertie as BFF — Best Fan Forever. Though Cee Cee prompts some independence in her friend, Bertie’s sheen hasn’t rubbed off on her needy pal. Only at the end does Cee Cee get a predictable semi-transformation.
Many of the new changes in this version are clumsily presented. The pivotal scene that causes a break in their relationship is head-spinning. In a matter of minutes the best of friends go from being giggling buddies to making bitchy remarks, then hurtful revelations, all with little motivation or sense.
The husbands in the women’s lives, played by Ben Jacoby and Brent Thiessen, are written as cardboard characters, good for a few plot turns and then out of the picture. The other women in the friends’ lives — primarily their mothers — don’t fare much better and are reduced to near-caricatures. Push the show’s direction just a bit further and this soap opera could easily slip into parody, at least in several scenes. (Some of the mugging is already there.)
Vosk and Barrett do admirable work but are limited by the material and get little help in the writing or staging. A strong-voiced Vosk is charged with echoing Midler’ performance. Barrett makes the most of the few-but-effective moments that reveal a person more than a type.
Production values are minimal with low-tide set designs, under-populated numbers and sketchy choreography. Cee Cee’s show biz outfits remain cheap looking, even as her celebrity and fortunes soar. (A “Hocus Pocus”-looking wig and a cheesy costume in what is supposed to be a polished production number? Really?)
The creative and producing teams — including Lonny Price and Matt Cowart who co-direct — even miss on the musical money shot. “Wind Beneath My Wings,” the film’s bittersweet and potent Grammy-winning ode (written by Jeff Silbar and Larry Henley) was an emotional gesture of gratitude and grace. But here Cee Cee is alone on stage performing just another star turn.
