Beaches opened on Broadway to a stark contradiction: a powerhouse lead performance surrounded by a production that feels assembled from spare parts and good intentions.
Jessica Vosk, known for her acclaimed turn as Elphaba in Wicked, delivers what both reviews agree is the show’s sole triumph. She brings warmth, humor, and formidable vocal power to the role of Cee Cee Bloom, a character made iconic by Bette Midler in the 1988 film. Vosk’s portrayal marks her first major originated role on Broadway, and critics note she handles the daunting comparison with grace, emerging not as an imitator but as a distinct, compelling presence.
Yet Vosk’s strength highlights what’s missing elsewhere. The musical, adapted from Iris Rainer Dart’s 1985 novel, has endured a troubled development since its 2014 world premiere in Virginia. The book, co-written by Dart and Thom Thomas, bears the mark of loss — Thomas died in 2015 — and the original composer departed, leaving the 93-year-old Mike Stoller, a rock & roll legend known for hits like “Hound Dog” and “Jailhouse Rock,” to assemble the score. The result, reviewers say, feels less like a cohesive vision and more like a patchwork.
Stoller’s contributions fail to rise to the level of his earlier work, and the new songs lack staying power. By the time the film’s Grammy-winning anthem “Wind Beneath My Wings” arrives — written by Jeff Silbar and Larry Henley — any emotional resonance stems almost entirely from audience memory of Midler’s original performance, not from the staging or interpretation on display.
The production’s physical execution reinforces the sense of improvisation. Directed by Lonny Price and Matt Cowart, the show employs Broadway’s “Rule of Three,” with three actors each portraying Cee Cee and Bertie at different ages. But the remaining eight actors are stretched thin, with one man playing 10 roles and another 15 — a casting choice that feels less like artistic ambition and more like economizing.
Visually, the staging offers little to compensate. Unconvincing sand dunes sit awkwardly at the front of the Majestic Theatre stage, while the rest of the set consists of lightweight Jenga-style panels that slide in and out or descend from the ceiling. Costumes swing between garish and dull, never finding a consistent tone. Even the finale’s intended moment of lift — a riser pushing Vosk forward as she sings “Wind Beneath My Wings” — reads as mechanically underwhelming, its symbolic flight undermined by the flimsiness of the gesture.
What emerges is a musical caught between homage and half-measure. It seeks to honor a beloved story of enduring female friendship across decades of life, love, and loss, yet the execution rarely rises above functional. The show does not disgrace its source, but it does not elevate it either, leaving audiences with a pleasant echo of Vosk’s talent and a lingering sense that the material deserved better.
The irony is palpable: a show built around a song about uplifting friendship is itself held up almost entirely by the strength of its lead performer, while the surrounding elements — book, score, design — struggle to get off the ground. Vosk carries the audience through scenes that might otherwise feel flat, her performance a reminder that even in a compromised production, a singular talent can still command attention.
For Dart, whose novel spent years navigating the path to stage, the realization must be bittersweet. She sees her story brought to life by a gifted actress, yet the musical around it bears the visible scars of delayed development, personnel loss, and compromise. The show does not betray the novel’s heart, but it does not fully trust it either, opting for safety over ambition in its staging and storytelling.
Beaches on Broadway is not a failure, but it is not a triumph. It is a testament to what a strong lead can achieve in spite of limitations — and a quiet argument for why some stories might be better served waiting for the right moment, rather than rushing to fill a slot.
Why did the musical struggle to live up to the film?
The stage adaptation lacks the film’s emotional immediacy and relies heavily on audience nostalgia for Bette Midler’s performance of “Wind Beneath My Wings,” while its original score and production design fail to create a distinct theatrical identity.
What makes Jessica Vosk’s performance notable?
Vosk delivers the show’s strongest element, originating a major Broadway role for the first time and earning praise for her warmth, humor, and vocal power in the role of Cee Cee Bloom, despite the production’s shortcomings.
