Stage Review: Funny Girl

Spring 2024 at LA’s Ahmanson Theater

Prince Charming is a delusion and it’s not possible to be in love and have a romantic mate while pursuing a career with passion. This is the dark theme of Funny Girl, which has been slightly adapted by Harvey Fierstein and recast according to modern (Orwellian “diversity, equity and inclusion”) philosophy. You can’t have it all—don’t bother to try—and everyone ends up settling for less; these are the play’s corollaries.

Such a bleak forecast and statement on romantic love can almost seem legitimate in today’s complicated world, which may account for the 1964 show’s endurance. I attended the Ray Stark musical’s 60th anniversary production with a few friends in downtown Los Angeles at the Ahmanson theater. Funny Girl dramatizes the rise of Jewish comedienne Fanny Brice (1891 to 1951) in comedy and music. The irrepressible Melissa Manchester, with whom I worked years ago to tell the story of one of her momentous albums, introduced the musical and co-stars as Brice’s mother.

This two-hour, 35-minute revival, based on the original by Isobel Lennart with a score by Jule Styne and Bob Merrill, debuted in New England and ended its LA run last month. Funny Girl continues to tour. With tap dance choreography by Ayodele Casel, choreography by Ellenore Scott and direction by Michael Mayer, Funny Girl entertains. Standout songs include “Don’t Rain On My Parade,” “The Music that Makes Me Dance” and “People.” The original production premiered on Broadway in 1964 with Barbra Streisand as Brice. Streisand reprised the role in the popular 1968 film version, tying Katharine Hepburn (The Lion in Winter) for an Academy Award as Best Actress.

Today, Katerina McCrimmon leads the cast as Fanny Brice. McCrimmon’s a powerful singer and a good actress. As Nick Arnstein, Stephen Mark Lukas stands out in a challenging role. As Mrs. Brice, Miss Manchester shines in humor and song and shows her acting chops. The rest of the cast is decent. Dogmatic racial casting takes the audience out of the story, however. Casting black actors as Eddie and Ziegfield in a place and time-specific, historically themed story—when interracial romance was rare at best—means relying on acceptance of Flo Ziegfield as black (in fact, the famous, legendary entertainment titan was not black), which distracts and dilutes the story’s impact and power.

The Ahmanson theater’s sound was off during a key performance. Generally, the show is good for what it is. A slow motion ballet—beautifully reprising Brice’s early life—with added instrumental music toward the end softens an abrupt ending.

It’s hard to see Funny Girl without thinking of the blockbuster movie. Film historian Leonard Maltin cites the memorable tugboat finale, featuring the show-stopping “Don’t Rain on My Parade,” as the major distinction of William Wyler’s 150-minute movie. Oxford University’s film companion notes that star Brice (whose birth name was Fanny Borach):

… became one of Florenz Ziegfield‘s biggest Broadway stars in the 20s, capitalizing on her plain looks and dry Jewish humor. During the 30s, she was immensely popular on the radio. She made film appearances in My Man (1929), named after her famous torch song, The Great Ziegfeld (1936) and Ziegfield Follies, directed by Vincente Minnelli in 1946...”

Earlier, Tyrone Power had portrayed the playboy loosely based on gambler Arnstein, who married Fanny Brice (Alice Faye), in 1939’s Rose of Washington Square. According to Jeanine Basinger in The Star Machine, Fanny Brice sued 20th Century Fox for defamation of character, invasion of privacy and for depicting her life story without permission. The case was settled out of court.

Brice fighting Hollywood in court foreshadowed Streisand suing to get out of a contract with Brice’s son-in-law, producer Ray Stark, husband to Fanny Brice‘s daughter, Frances, who had inked a deal with Streisand which launched her career in The Owl and the Pussycat and Sydney Pollack’s wrenching The Way We Were. Eventually, Streisand read and liked the script for a sequel to Funny Girl, Funny Lady, reprising Omar Sharif as Nick Arnstein and featuring James Caan.

Diana Ross sang “Don’t Rain on my Parade” in a pink and orange gown designed by Bob Mackie for her opening rendition in an April 1971 ABC television special.

Perhaps most tantalizingly from a historical perspective, Bob Fosse was set to direct the original show on Broadway and:

… after expressing interest, approached Stark and Merrick with the idea of replacing Barbra Streisand, who had already been cast, with [Gwen] Verdon…they turned him down. As if in retaliation, Fosse had Jack Perlman draw up a rider to the proposed contract…if Stark and Merrick ordered changes to Fosse’s work without his consent, the rider stated, all rights to his dances would automatically revert to Fosse.”

… Fosse dove into the [original book for Funny Girl]. He scribbled notes, took down song ideas, and sent off suggestions to writer Isobel Lennart (who seemed amenable to his input). Midway through the overture, Fosse thought, they should have the curtain rise on a pair of electricians at work on the bare stage. Checking the lights would prompt certain sparks and flashes timed to the music. A few beats later, Fanny’s dressing room would roll on and Streisand would make her entrance, moving across the stage to her dressing-room door…Fosse’s suggestion [was] to cut the song “People.” … lyrics, he said, [which] made no sense for Fanny Brice. She was a star and stars did not “need people.” They needed the stage, the audience—no more.”

Can you imagine Funny Girl without Streisand?

Last month, I saw such a production on stage and can honestly answer: yes. I can also imagine a better show without its dark, ultimately anti-romantic theme. Funny Girl as it is legitimizes the notion that artistry and happiness are mutually exclusive. With Merrill’s and Styne’s songs, such as Brice’s lush longing for Arnstein—even after the end of their adoring affair, “The Music that Makes Me Dance”—it’s easier to imagine.