A Cinematic Treasure Lost in Translation
There is a specific kind of magic that occurs when a film perfectly captures the messy, enduring bond of female friendship. In 1988, Garry Marshall’s Beaches did exactly that, cementing Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey as the definitive faces of a love story that didn’t require a leading man. It was a story built on decades of letters, arguments, and an eventual, heartbreaking goodbye. However, the new Broadway musical adaptation, which recently washed ashore at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, proves that some cinematic treasures are better left on the screen.
While the stage version attempts to replicate the emotional highs of the original narrative, it struggles to find its own voice. Instead of a fresh interpretation, audiences are treated to a sterile, almost mechanical retelling that misses the very soul of the source material. In the competitive landscape of modern entertainment, a production needs more than just brand recognition to thrive; it needs a pulse. Unfortunately, this version of Beaches feels like it’s flatlining from the opening number.
The Music: A Score Without a Signature
The primary hurdle for any musical adaptation is, naturally, the music. When your source material features one of the most iconic power ballads in history—“Wind Beneath My Wings”—the bar is set exceptionally high. The new score, however, fails to clear even the most modest hurdles. The songs are largely derivative, blending into a generic wash of contemporary musical theater tropes that fail to distinguish the brassy personality of C.C. Bloom from the refined elegance of Hillary Whitney.
As noted in a scathing critique by Variety, the production often feels “soulless,” relying on crescendos that feel unearned and lyrics that lack the sharp wit of the original screenplay. Instead of deepening our understanding of the characters, the musical numbers often act as placeholders, merely marking the passage of time without adding the necessary emotional texture. It is a frustrating experience to watch talented performers belt their hearts out to melodies that are forgotten the moment the house lights come up.
Performances Stifled by Scripting
It is difficult to blame the cast for the production's shortcomings. The actors playing C.C. and Hillary clearly possess the vocal chops and stage presence required for Broadway, yet they are trapped in a script that prioritizes plot points over psychological depth. The friendship between these two women is supposed to be the anchor of the show, but on stage, their connection feels forced. We are told they are best friends, but we rarely feel the weight of their shared history.
The pacing of the show is equally problematic. In an attempt to cover decades of friendship in two and a half hours, the musical rushes through pivotal life events. Marriages, births, and career shifts fly by with the speed of a slideshow, leaving the audience with little time to invest in the stakes. By the time the final, tragic act arrives, the emotional payoff feels more like a checklist item than a genuine catharsis. The audience is invited to cry because the plot demands it, not because the storytelling has moved them to tears.
A Production Lacking Visual Identity
Visually, the show does little to compensate for its narrative thinness. The set design is surprisingly sparse for a production of this scale, often leaning on digital projections that look more like screensavers than evocative environments. For a story that spans from the boardwalks of Atlantic City to the glamorous heights of Manhattan and the quiet shores of the Pacific, the aesthetic is remarkably bland. There is no sense of place, no atmosphere to ground the drama.
The direction also feels strangely detached. There is a lack of intimacy in the staging, with characters often standing at opposite ends of the stage to deliver dialogue that should be whispered. This distance further alienates the audience, making it hard to bridge the gap between the actors and the seats. It’s a polished production, certainly—the lighting is crisp and the transitions are smooth—but it’s a polish that feels corporate, lacking the “lived-in” feel that makes a great musical resonate with its viewers.
Final Thoughts: A Shoreline Not Worth Visiting
Ultimately, the Beaches musical serves as a cautionary tale about the perils of the Broadway remake machine. Not every beloved movie needs a second life on stage, especially if the creators aren't prepared to bring something new to the table. Fans of the 1988 film will likely find this adaptation a hollow echo of the story they love, while newcomers will be left wondering why the property was so celebrated in the first place.
In a season filled with bold, original works and inventive revivals, this production feels like a missed opportunity. It is a show that plays it safe at every turn, avoiding the risks that make theater truly exciting. Broadway is at its best when it challenges us, surprises us, and breaks our hearts in ways we didn't see coming. This Beaches merely goes through the motions, leaving us waiting for a tide that never quite comes in.
