Funny Girl Critic Beanie Feldstein Struggles in Broadway Revival | Broadway

IIt must be hard to cast Funny Girl. Whoever anchors the musical stands in the shadow of two titans of the stage: Fanny Brice, the vaudeville star whose life provides the (loose) basis for a show that is essentially the early 20th century version of A Star is Born, and Barbra Streisand, who originated the role as a relatively unknown 21-year-old in 1964 and blended a story of singular talent and inevitable fame seamlessly with her own. (Streisand also won the Best Actress Oscar for the 1968 film adaptation.) For the first Broadway revival, producers handed over the reins to sophomore Broadway student Beanie Feldstein (she did her debut in 2017 as Minnie Fay in Hello, Dolly!) primarily known for her sharp screen work in Booksmart, Lady Bird and as Monica Lewinsky in Impeachment: American Crime Story.

The casting makes sense on paper; Feldstein brings Fanny an endearing daughter. Its precise comedic timing lends itself well to the shows’ slapstick gags and Fanny’s avant-klutz schtick; his dark brown, saucer-wide eyes effectively project a real human on and off the meta-stage. Whether in diva mode or in an anxious, awkward frenzy, Feldstein mostly clings to a character torpedo. But it’s a musical, one with full belts, and its singing just doesn’t measure up. Paper-thin, angular in the high registers and excessively nasal throughout, Feldstein’s voice is noticeably textureless compared to the rest of the cast. The role that gave Streisand some of his must-have People and Dont Rain on My Parade, Funny Girls showstopper that Feldstein visibly musters every ounce of strength to scream requires a mighty vocalist. Feldstein is simply not one.

Which is a serious problem when a show hinges on the story of a woman’s undeniable talent for the stage, let alone in a role cast by one of the most renowned singers of the past half-century; the rest of the production, directed by Michael Mayer and choreographed by Ellenore Scott, seems to jostle to compensate for this lack. It’s accomplished mostly by tap-dancing virtuoso Jared Grimes as Fanny’s dance director Eddie Ryan, a superb Ramin Karimloo as Fanny’s suave but dim-witted husband Nick Arnstein, and an ever-entertaining Jane Lynch as as his mother owned a salon. (Unfortunately for Feldstein, the cast of Glee stars recalls that Lea Michele, who was publicly strafed for the role for over a decade, can nail Dont Rain on My Parade.)

The show, with original music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Bob Merrill from Isobel Lennart’s book, started at Manhattans New Amsterdam Theater in the early 1920s; Brooklyn-born Fanny, a star of vaudeville for years with a company called the Ziegfield Follies, returned to acting the night her husband was released from prison for embezzlement. The anticipation triggers a flood of memories, which play like an extended flashback to the end of the second act: Fannys begins as an awkward backing vocalist desperate for stardom, honing her persona as a consciously unpretty comedienne, encountering the debonair gambler Nick Arnstein, supporting his dubious endeavors with his own money.

Harvey Fierstein’s revised book changes some numbers around Mrs. Brice and Eddies Who Taught Her All She Knows?, a highlight of the evening, is effectively moved to the second act and cuts the second half down to focus mostly on Nick’s reckless swans and swirls. the drain. (The show lasts almost three hours, including a 15-minute intermission.) The arrangement works, especially since it features Karimloos Nick, both a thug, a charmer, a sympathetic poker player in bad luck , devoted husband , and a pitiful figure. Feldstein, generally good as a precocious young woman, seems bewildered by the move towards romance and marriage, leaving Karimloo to direct later scenes on her own. In the seductive slapstick dining room number You Are Woman, I Am Man, for example, Karimloo jumps from the floor to the chair while keeping his body horizontal, as if snapped by a rubber band; Feldstein, meanwhile, keeps the game going with an overly shrill cackle.

Ironically, a show about spectacle, fame and one woman’s ineffable charm was strongest in its most popular moments, the chorus of Follies, with Susan Hilferty’s elaborate and stunning costumes (from diaphanous butterflies to soldiers to gold spots). The rowdy tavern number Henry Street, with an excellent Toni DiBuono as the nosy neighbor Mrs. Strakosh. The set’s rotation by David Zinn, which manages to convey the action from Brooklyn to Manhattan to a Cleveland train station in a rotating center stage that sometimes resembled a brick turret. Grimes deserves another mention for her tap dancing, choreographed by Ayodele Casel, which was simply mesmerizing. The full pomp provided to His Love Makes Me Beautiful, in which Fanny improvises her debut for the Follies, was a highlight both for the production and for Feldsteins finesse of full-body physical comedy on stage.

I felt for Feldstein, sometimes alone on stage, singing numbers that she simply cannot fully carry. There are high points in this new Funny Girl, moments of comedy and real laughs. But it’s Broadway; the bar is higher than that. The humor alone did not make Fanny Brice, the musical character, a star.