Here We Are, National Theatre, review: Stephen Sondheim musical is more Severance than sing-a-long
Here We Are review and star rating: ★★★★
Stephen Sondheim’s final musical is nothing like his most famous works – in fact, it’s barely a musical at all, but perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised. As Here We Are writer David Ives remarked, the legend relished in challenging his loyal followers with reinvention. “Sondheim makes people crazy in all kinds of interesting and different ways.”
An absurd comedy about a bunch of rich Americans who try to go for brunch but can’t seem to get served, Here We Are is a barmy satire with the existential trappings of a Beckett play. Proferring a message about overconsumption, it is certainly no gentle nostalgia vehicle like Old Friends, the blast through Sondheim’s most famous tunes that scored a five-star review from City PM in 2023.
Inspired by Luis Buñuel’s absurdist films The Exterminating Angel and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, after Sondheim died aged in 2021 aged 91, there was controversy over whether the piece should be staged at all. Would this super experimental show dent Sondheim’s legacy as perhaps the 20th century’s greatest composer and lyricist, the man behind Company, Follies, A Little Night Music, Sweeney Todd and Into The Woods? Unlikely: the reality is that even if Here We Are ruffles the feathers of Sondheim purists, it wouldn’t be the first time. Many of his shows didn’t do big box office numbers or become classics for years after release.
Here We Are at the National Theatre: final Stephen Sondheim show has more than music
We meet a highly-strung group of yuppies, including a plastic surgeon, an ambassador and an industrialist. Wealthy central couple Leo and Marianne Brink, played by Rory Kinnear and Jane Krakowski, struggle to land a brunch booking for their group, and things go awry when the six friends become entangled with the radical left-wing group Prada – “not the shoes” – and are taken down an absurdist rabbit hole not dissimilar to the Apple TV show Severance, where dream sequences become indistinguishable from reality.
As a satire on wealth, Here We Are has some hilarious and pertinent bits, including the lady cloning her dogs so her fluffy friends are with her no matter which country she’s in, and the insufferable chef who goes from serving French Deconstructionist cuisine to Post-Deconstructive, where “everything is actually what it is.” Ives finds his biting point in how desperately out of touch these people are with reality. “I want things to be what they seem and not what they are,” groans one character in one of the show’s many interesting meta parts.
It also works as a fascinating physical piece. Choreographer Sam Pinkleton, alongside director Joe Mantello and set and costume designer David Zinn spent seven years in development to orchestrate this frankly incredibly weird show, in which characters speak and move in time with Sondheim’s accompaniment, like characters in an old black and white movie. Much of the comedy is mined from Fawlty Towers-style farcical faffing – but on a grand, complex scale. It’s the type of tomfoolery that might look silly but is pulled off vanishingly rarely.
As for Sondheim, he must have loved Ives’ script. As for his ditties, they serve as a function to enable the story rather than existing to entertain us in and of themselves. Songs including Here We Are (Overture), The Road and Waiter’s Song are more a final reminder of the legend’s skill at employing music to bolster the plot rather than songs that stand alone. One audience member who sat near me joked that the songs and accompaniments were stitched together from bits of music he’d left on his cutting room floor from other productions, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a criticism. They add to the production’s bags of natural charm.
In the main, it’s just refreshing to see something this surrealist and bonkers getting a mainstream staging.
Here We Are plays at the National Theatre until 28 June