NEW YORK — In life, as God and Stephen Sondheim understand, we roll along whether or not we choose to do so merrily.
But if ever there was a musical about how our youthful idealism and personal loyalties are so often sacrificed on the tawdry altar of getting ahead, ever a show about how darn stupid most of us turn out to be, ever a show about how we blow our most important relationships and friendships for ... what? what? Then “Merrily We Roll Along” is that masterpiece.
I watched director Maria Friedman’s stunning, revelatory production at the New York Theatre Workshop (it originated a the Menier Chocolate Factory in London) through a kind of moist-eyed haze, mind racing, heart beating and all that stuff. For starters, the musical, written by Sondheim and George Furth and first seen on Broadway in 1981, is a work of genius. (And, yes, it’s even better than “Into the Woods.”)
