“People will always be around to tell you you're no good or you're wrong or unwise to keep doing what you want to do. They're wrong. They're always wrong. Keep going.”
— Elaine Stritch
I am putting together what I have been facetiously calling the “Man-ifesto,” otherwise known as my bid to inoculate the lads from the toxic sludge of male victimhood and whining from a position of privilege. It is in the works. But I must write and it’s been a few weeks. My army of regular readers know that I love finding what I call “New Favorite Things.” These are movies, or music, or works of art, or personalities, that I’ve never noticed before but have existed for years. Somehow, I missed them, and then I come across them, and when I do, I wonder: where have these wonderful things been all my life? These beautiful things exist in this universe, and I had no idea until now. And now they are some of my favorite things! The world is full of beauty and creativity and love and craft, and we can find them if we just open our eyes and are open to experiencing them.
I have found some gems that I pass along to you to appreciate.
I. Company
A few weeks ago, I was looking for something interesting to watch, and this documentary kept popping up in the listings: “Original Cast Album: Company.”
“Okay,” I thought, “let’s see what this is.”
I had never heard of “Company.” I thought it was about a theater company doing a soundtrack for some musical or play or something. The blurb is “Documentary recounts the grueling 15-hour recording session for the Stephen Sondheim musical.” The photo was of Dean Jones, of “The Love Bug” and “That Darned Cat!” movie fame, singing into a mic. He looked like the movie star he was.
I didn’t know much about musicals, and I didn’t know about Stephen Sondheim, except that people seem to like him.
The movie opened with a scrolling explainer:
My Phone Rang
It was Danny Melnick from David Suskind’s office with another idea.
“How about we film a series of original case recording sessions? Can you make an inexpensive pilot?
“Sounds great” I said, “will they let us in the studio?”
“I’ll take care of that. You worry about your camera.”
I was worried about my camera. If it was too noisy they’d kick us out.
When it was all over, at five thirty in the morning, I was amazed that what I had watched through my camera and what the recording engineers heard through their microphones could be so different. A performance that seemed dramatic and wonderful on film was often for them simply a bad take.
Later:
“Looks great! Chrysler’s bought it for national syndication.”
“Great! What’s the next one?”
“We’re working on it. I’ll call you.”
A week later he was in Hollywood running MGM.
There never was a next one. This was it.
I was hooked. The next scene was a balding older gent wearing a tie screwing around with a cable and setting up a mic. Then some musicians warming up, singers getting ready, and then the cast launches into the opening number, complete with one of the singers holding his cigarette as he sang. Initial thought: this seems a little corny. Then: they are really into it. Then: wait. These singers are freaking good! And then when the women sang You Could Drive a Person Crazy, I just sat back and said “holy crap! I am watching professionals at the top of their game.”
The documentary was about the original cast recording of the musical “Company.” I had never heard of this musical. The movie’s producer was D. A. Pennebaker, a documentarian whose subjects included JFK, Bob Dylan, David Bowie, Bill Clinton, and the Monterey Pop Festival. Of course, I’d never heard of him either. I seemed to have hit a seam of personal ignorance. Lord!
The movie is photographed beautifully. The feel is intimate. “This Pennebaker guy is good!” I thought. What is this?
I had to find out about this musical. “Company” revolves around a 35 year-old bachelor character named Bobby, his married or otherwise paired-up friends, and the women that come into and out of his life. Set in New York, Bobby’s friends invite him over for dinners and drinks, as company, where Bobby is a third wheel (one of the songs is “Side by Side by Side”) and his single state becomes the topic around the tables of his friends.
Sondheim captured the gamut of relationships in this musical. The songs “The Little Things You Do Together” and “Sorry-Grateful” nails marriage. Every song is a gem. The song “Being Alive” is where Bobby transitions from being afraid of commitment to embracing it completely, with the encouragement of his friends. Dean Jones sings it beautifully. It is gorgeous.
“Company” is funny as hell, too. The song “Barcelona” is a sentimental conversational love song where flight-attendant April needs to leave for Barcelona and Bobby is imploring her to stay:
“Look you’re a very special girl, not just overnight,
No, you’re a very special girl, not because you’re bright,
Not just because you’re bright,
You’re just a very special girl, June!”“April.”
“April.”
And then he gets what he asks for:
April:
“If I had my way…
Oh well, I guess… Okay.”“What?”
“I’ll stay.”
“What? Oh God!”
Oh, I love that.
I see myself and my wife and the arc of my marriage, and all my friends, in every song and situation in this musical. A few weeks ago, I never heard of it. It was on Broadway when I was nine years old. And now it is a part of my life. Stephen Sondheim is an absolute genius, which apparently everyone knew except me. Now I do.
“Company” is touring next spring and summer, and I will be there to see it. My God it is so good.
II. Elaine Stritch
And then, there is Elaine Stritch. She was in the original cast and was in this documentary. I fell for her at first sight. She is monumentally brilliant, and it was no surprise when I found out later that she is a legend of musical theater. Of course she is. One look and it’s obvious. Watching her work through “Ladies Who Lunch” at 4am when everyone’s tired and seeing her frustration that she could not quite get to it showed why she was who she was. In every scene you can see her charm, and see her joy, even when she was frustrated. They break at 5am, and have her come back a couple of days later. She comes back, and she’s perfect. As I watch her I am watching a diamond - even her flaws are beautiful, and then she pulls it together. Her timing and presence and her wry sense of humor are phenomenal.
After watching the documentary, I dove into the rabbit hole. “Ladies who Lunch” is a brilliant song, an anthem. How did Sondheim do it? I’ve watched versions sung by Patti LuPone, Carol Burnett, and a special lockdown version by Meryl Streep, Christine Baranski, and Audra McDonald. You cannot sing “Ladies who Lunch” without being a strong person, because Sondheim’s music is so good it makes those who sing it stronger. Of all the women, the strong women, who did such beautiful renditions of this song, Elaine Stritch owns it. It’s her song. When she belts out “another vodka stinger!” and yells into “I’ll drink to that,” well… chills.
There are a number of people I would love to have met in person. Jimmy Stewart. Orson Welles. Add Elaine Stritch to the list. Appreciate this woman. We are lucky to have shared the earth with her.
This is Elaine’s version of “Ladies who Lunch” edited from the documentary. Brilliant. She doesn’t just sing it, she is it.
This is her singing “I’m Still Here,” from Sondheim’s musical “Follies,” forty years later, for a command performance for President and Mrs. Obama. Her timing, poise, presence, humor, and charm - I mean, she’s great even when she forgets her lines.
I am glad I finally discovered Stephen Sondheim, “Company,” and Elaine Stritch. A trifecta of new favorite things. Hopefully they are or will become some of your favorite things too.
My process, I am finding out, is to let things bubble and boil in my brain until they start to form into some sort of coherence. And so it is with the current undulations of male “victimhood” interspersed with triumphs of women’s empowerment (Taylor Swift and Barbie, anyone?), which spark hotspots of misogyny in response - wow. There’s a lot brewing. But it’s brewing. And distilling. Stay tuned.
So good, Mark! I love your enthusiasm and humility. I had to share this to FB. Bravo.