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‘The Ladies Who Lunch’, Again and Again

2024; Wiley; Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/criq.12812

1467-8705

Ben Anderson,

Theatre and Performance Studies

In 'The Ladies Who Lunch', one of the best-loved songs in Company (1970), Joanne asks 'does anyone still wear a hat?'.1 I come to write this wearing three hats of my own. The first is as an academic who wants to explore an experience I had in the theatre. The second is as a director, who saw something he loved. The third is as someone who has loved the work of Stephen Sondheim for many years as a member of the audience. My first job, when I was doing my A-levels in Plymouth, was in a pub. Every Sunday, as we ran the lunch service, we would sing along (with various degrees of enthusiasm and ability) to songs from musicals played by Elaine Paige on her Radio 2 show. It was here, not on the stage, that I first encountered many of the greats of musical theatre—including Stephen Sondheim. The first time I saw Sondheim's work staged professionally was many years later, in 2018, when Marianne Elliott directed a revival of Company at the Gielgud Theatre in London. The production was distinctive for its decision to gender-swap the role of Bobby, who became Bobbie and was played by Rosalie Craig in a stand-out performance. The show also featured Patti LuPone returning to the role of Joanne (she had previously performed the role in 2011). It was my experience of watching her sing 'The Ladies Who Lunch' that I want to explore here. Company (based on a series of playlets by George Furth) eschews a linear plot to present a series of vignettes in which Bobbie, turning 35 and unmarried, interacts with her married friends who offer opinions on dating, marriage and divorce. By the time we get to 'The Ladies Who Lunch', we have already seen Bobbie (Craig), literally chased from scene to scene by the designer Bunny Christie's neon-framed set pieces that move around the stage. No matter how much Bobbie tries to avoid them, they catch up to her and pull her into the next encounter. Finally, towards the end of the show, she arrives in a nightclub where she spends time with Joanne (LuPone) and her third husband Larry (Ben Lewis). When watching a revival of a musical, even if you have not seen it before, you can sometimes feel a lot like you have seen it. Fans of musical theatre, more so than devotees of 'straight' theatre, seem to be particularly aware of—and in conversation with—the history of a show and of the genre. Perhaps, this is because many of the most iconic performances have also been preserved in recordings. Their existence means that it is possible to not only read about earlier performances but to have experienced a version of them as well. In 2018, even though I had not seen Company before, I had heard it. I had been listening to different versions of the show for the best part of a decade before the house lights went down in the Gielgud Theatre and the overture started playing. The great songs of musical theatre move beyond the context of their show, becoming part of wider popular culture. For example, as Sondheim said, 'the character of Joanne was not only written for Elaine Stritch, it was based on her, or at least on her acerbic delivery of self-assessment', and 'The Ladies Who Lunch' became her signature song in concerts for many years.2 And although I had never seen Patti LuPone perform, I knew a lot about her work—including her other previous performances of 'The Ladies Who Lunch'. Many fans bring their knowledge of these recorded performances to the show that they are about to watch. Filmed performances (a category distinct from those musicals that have also been turned into films) are also widely available. Thanks to digital technology and the commitment of fans, there exist on YouTube and other channels not only official recordings but all manner of bootleg versions and clips as well. I knew LuPone from this context too. Whether stopping a performance of Gypsy in 2009 to take on two audience members for taking photographs or taking a phone from another without breaking character during Shows for Days in 2015, LuPone has created legendary moments, which have given her a level of celebrity that the producers of Company could not help but lean into.3 Pre-show, we were warned by the voice of LuPone to 'turn your phone all. The way. Off… Trust me'. You do not need to know the full story to get the threat: There is probably not a single performer who would like to be interrupted. However, the capitalising on LuPone's reputation added something for those who knew what had happened before. When, in the second act, LuPone declared 'I'd like to propose a toast', I was ready. I had heard version after version of the song, and I knew all about the person singing it. However, clearly, the warnings we had all heard had not been enough. Or perhaps, someone did not quite understand what they were being warned about because just as the opening chords of 'The Ladies Who Lunch' started, a phone went off. Loudly. This seems to happen with an ever-increasing frequency in the theatre. However, if you could not be sure who knew about LuPone's previous phone encounters before this moment, it was now abundantly clear. You could hear the intake of breath. The wait to see if anything would happen. As it turned out, nothing did happen. The opening chords played a few more times than is normal. LuPone seemed to stare out directly towards the offending phone for a long time (or perhaps I only imagined this because I wanted her to have done so). However, the show carried on. Why tell this story? After all, it is not like there are not plenty of other people with similar encounters. For me, the fact that I am talking about Patti LuPone on stage, as well as the character of Joanne that she was playing, illustrates the relationship between Sondheim, his work and those who perform it. For many years, Sondheim has been a name that has been synonymous with musical theatre. On 9 July 2024, Carl Woodward observed that this was the first day since 5 February 1979 that there was not a show by either Stephen Sondheim or Andrew Lloyd Webber running on Broadway.4 If Sondheim has become an institution, so too have the stars associated with his work. In 'The Ladies Who Lunch', you can see a piece that made the most of his particular performers—and in turn made many of them bigger stars. Writer and performer work together in a collaborative relationship. Here's to the ladies who lunch … Everybody laugh. Lounging in their caftans and planning a brunch On their own behalf.6 And here's to the girls who stay smart – Aren't they a gas? Rushing to their classes in optical art, Wishing it would pass. Another long exhausting day, Another thousand dollars, A matinee, a Pinter play Perhaps a piece of Mahler's – I'll drink to that. Drinks And one for Mahler. And here's to the girls who just watch – Aren't they the best? When they get depressed, it's a bottle of Scotch Plus a little jest. Another chance to disapprove, Another brilliant zinger, Another reason not to move, Another vodka stinger – (Screams.) Aaaahh – (Back to normal.) I'll drink to that. So here's to the girls on the go – Everybody tries. Look into their eyes and you'll see what they know: Everybody dies. A toast to that invincible bunch, The dinosaurs surviving the crunch – Let's hear it for the ladies who lunch! Everybody rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! The title 'Company' suggests that the show is about the push and pull to attachment that Bobby, or Bobbie, feels. However, what was irresistible to me is the idea that this sort of show, with its episodic nature and big songs for character actors is also a celebration of the theatre company that are making the show. This kind of number encourages the elision of actor and character. While we watch Joanne sing, and rise to salute her, we know that we have come here to see LuPone. It does not ruin our immersion in the piece: Musical theatre audiences can operate on two levels at once. Sondheim was personally involved in the changes that were made for the 2018 production. But future revivals will allow his work to be reinvented in the spaces that he left deliberately for such explorations. It is his respect for actors and for theatre makers, and the space he allows for them to create, that makes his work so compelling. There's an aphorism to which I often refer to when directing; that theatre can tell us who we are, where we have come from and where we are going.7 Company is a perfect example of this, allowing Marianne Elliott to create a show that felt alive to the questions of a moment nearly 50 years after the original production. More than this though, the written and oral history, along with the recordings of the show, mean that a dialogue has been going on for those 50 years. This is fitting since Sondheim is never just interested in telling a story. Whatever else he does, he is always asking us to celebrate musical theatre. Just remember to turn off your phone. Data sharing is not applicable to this article as no datasets were generated or analysed during the current study.