Kelli O’Hara is Kirsten Arnesen, and Brian d’Arcy James is Joe Clay, who are victims of their addictions in the musical adaptation of Days of Wine and Roses.
In Days of Wine and Roses, the new musical based on JP Miller’s 1958 teleplay and Blake Edwards’s 1962 Warner Bros. film, the central characters introduce themselves in song as “two people stranded at sea.” Even when offered lifelines, as the boozy, destructive duo often are, they respond like drowning victims, clawing and scratching, threatening to bring their rescuers down with them. With a book by Craig Lucas and a score by Adam Guettel, Days of Wine and Roses presents a searing and sobering portrait of the devastating costs of addiction.
Joe’s behaviors raise some concerns among his immediate supervisor Rad (Ted Koch).
Set in 1950, the musical centers around Joe Clay (Brian d’Arcy James), a Korean War veteran and gregarious public relations executive, and Kirsten Arnesen (Kelli O’Hara), a secretary who longs for adventure and a chance to break free from her predictable life. She reveals to Joe: “Danger/ Hazard/ Make me happy/ They make me happy/ Don’t know why.”
Joe, a self-proclaimed committed drinker, is not content with imbibing alone, and he encourages Kirsten to join him. Preferring chocolate to alcohol, she initially and staunchly refuses, but when Joe presents her with a cocoa-infused Brandy Alexander, she is immediately smitten. (Unlike the film and musical versions, in the original teleplay, both Joe and Kirsten are in the throes of addiction when they first meet.)
Soon, the couple are married, and their codependency increases. Even Kirsten’s taciturn father (Byron Jennings, who is terrific) recognizes that this relationship does not bode well for his daughter, but it isn’t long before Joe and Kirsten have a daughter, Lila (in a self-assured and confident performance by Ella Dane Morgan). While it appears that motherhood may provide the impetus to stop drinking, Kirsten yields to Joe’s seductive entreaty to return to the joy they found together in drunken revelries, singing, “So everything is circular and nothing is alone.”
Kirsten’s utter dependency on alcohol has a devastating effect on her family, including her daughter Lila (Ella Dane Morgan). Photographs by Ahron R. Foster.
Their alcohol-fueled descent is fast and brutal: He is fired from his job, she causes a fire in their apartment, and their marriage dissipates. There are attempts at recovery, and Joe receives support from an Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor (a sympathetic David Jennings), but such moments of hope are fleeting.
Under the astute direction of Michael Greif, the performances of the nine-person ensemble are outstanding, but James and O’Hara in particular elevate the grim material nearly to the sublime. They are both in glorious voice, and Guettel gives them many opportunities to show why they are among the finest musical theater performers working today. (Wearing Dede Ayite’s period-precise costumes, they also look like they walked out of a 1950s Edward Hopper painting.)
There are some soaring melodies, such as “Forgiveness,” which give them each a chance to show the full range of their vocal abilities. (They are well served by Guettel’s rich orchestrations, Kimberly Grigsby’s exquisite music direction, and Kai Harada’s unobtrusive sound design.) Moreover, they imbue the quieter songs, like “Turleycue” and “Lila Hangs the Moon,” with heartbreaking vulnerability. There are also several jazz-suffused songs, and “Evanesce,” a song they sing while inebriated includes a charming soft-shoe dance break. (Sergio Trujillo and Karla Puno Garcia provided the choreography.)
Unfortunately, though, Lucas’s book is not potent enough to fully engage the audience emotionally. Rather than digging deeply into the characters’ lives, the musical instead offers a series of snapshots and shortened scenes, dropping in on their lives over a period of several years. As a result, the episodic circumstances have a distancing effect (which is augmented by Guettel’s recurrent atonal compositions).
Byron Jennings (left) plays the father of Kelli O’Hara’s Kirsten, and he is no friend of Joe (Brian d’Arcy James).
In his New York Times review of the film, Bosley Crowther wrote about watching Jack Lemmon and Lee Remick on screen, “We shudderingly watch them suffer, we do not really suffer with them.” A similar problem occurs with the musical, which elicits admiration rather than empathy. For instance, one may marvel at the dexterity in which the creators present numerous references to water throughout. In addition to the “stranded at sea” image, one of the memorable songs is “As the Water Loves the Stone,” in which Joe sings, “There is a man who loves you/ As the water loves the stone.” In turn, Kirsten sings about “Underdeath,” which is “a place where you can watch your breath/ Come out/In one big bubble.”
The water allusions are reflected in the impressively fluid scenic design by Lizzie Clachan as well as the evocative lighting by Ben Stanton. There is a pool of water at the front of the stage, and reflections of the shimmering and undulating waves are illuminated above. The cumulative effects are impressive, but in the end, Days of Wine and Roses is more intellectually stimulating than intoxicatingly soul-stirring.
The Atlantic Theater production of Days of Wine and Roses plays through July 16 at the Linda Gross Theater (336 West 20th St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. on Tuesday and Thursday and at 8 p.m. Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.; matinees are at 2 p.m. Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday. For tickets and more information, visit atlantictheater.org.
Book: Craig Lucas
Music and Lyrics: Adam Guettel
Direction: Michael Greif
Choreography: Sergio Trujillo and Karla Puno Garcia
Scenic Design: Lizzie Clachan
Costume Design: Dede Ayite
Lighting Design: Ben Stanton
Sound Design: Kai Harada
