For all its Broadway dazzle and gags, this musical’s story of midlife bereavement and a second chance at love carries intense feeling
How often do you see an old-style musical romance with a middle-aged widow as its lead? And not only a widow but one looking to live and love again?
Hello, Dolly! might seem like a quintessential Broadway throwback with its ballroom glamour, booming chorus numbers and squeaky New York accents, but its central subject is emotional and unorthodox: midlife bereavement and the journey towards renewal, all shown and felt from the point of view of one indomitable woman in Dolly Levi.
Rooted in Thornton Wilder’s 1938 farce The Merchant of Yonkers (later turned into The Matchmaker), its plot plays out like a kooky romcom. Dolly, portrayed with immense unshowy power by Imelda Staunton, is the meddling New York widow who resembles one of Shakespeare’s plotting mischief-makers. She sets her sights on marrying tight-fisted millionaire Horace Vandergelder under the guise of being a matchmaker and finding him the perfect wife.
There is a screwball comedy feel to Michael Stewart’s book and Fred Astaire effects in Bill Deamer’s swooning choreography (which we sway along with). None of it is desperately original or complicated but the gags still zing, and together with Jerry Herman’s music and lyrics this production casts a magic spell. Dominic Cooke’s production is immaculately performed and slowly, beautifully life-affirming, with humour that reins in the schmaltz.
Dolly is a woman who has never fallen out of love with her husband but realises she can now open up her heart again without letting go of her past love. Songs such as Before the Parade Passes By and the title number are suffused in loss and longing for love, romance and joy. The latter, sung by Staunton and the company, is an absolute show-stopper which earned a standing ovation on the night I went (the dancing waiters in this act are a delight, too).
Staunton masters singing with feeling, never overacting or sentimentalising Dolly. Andy Nyman as Horace is wryly Scroogey, while Jenna Russell, as the story’s other humanely portrayed widow, hat-shop owner Irene Molloy, sings one of the most moving numbers of the night, Ribbons Down My Back. It is filled with the yearning of a woman who has not quite given up on romance, poetic without being schmaltzy.
Casting a magic spell … Hello, Dolly! Photograph: Manuel Harlan
The misadventures of Horace’s absconding employees, Cornelius Hackl (Harry Hepple) and Barnaby Tucker (Tyrone Huntley), who run off to the city, mirror the women’s quest for love and fulfilment. It is not quite a battle of the sexes setup – but conventional ideas around marriage and femininity are sent up in songs such as It Takes a Woman that speak of Horace’s ideal of “fragile” femininity which extends, when needed, to cleaner, plumbing expert and housekeeper. Meanwhile, Dolly tells us the best part of married life is the quarrels, and enacts that dynamic in her strange seduction game with Horace.
A bygone New York is evoked on Rae Smith’s swiftly changing set design with the romance of trolley cars set against Horace’s sandy hay and feed store. There is a lovely moment, when the ensemble are dancing downstage, with a background of blue sky that conveys the sense of characters floating on clouds.
Misadventures … Andy Nyman, Tyrone Huntley and Harry Hepple. Photograph: Manuel Harlan
Sometimes, the backdrop is too flat, with its illustrations of buildings, but it gets more lavish as it goes along. By the time we come to the set-piece in Harmonia Gardens restaurant, where comedy and romances culminate, it looks like a swirling silver screen production.
It is joyous enough to be this year’s Crazy for You (Charlie Stemp, the star of that recent revival, played Barnaby on Broadway in 2018). Hello, Dolly! may not be as athletic or as innovative in its choreography as that show, but it is similarly slightly ludicrous and full of fun. At its core, however, is a deeply serious message: that it is never too late to reach for happiness, and that we must all do so. “My heart is about to burst,” the chorus sings. Same here.
At the Palladium, London, until 14 September