8/10

On August 17th, Criterion debuts on disc ORIGINAL CAST ALBUM: COMPANY (53 mins., 1970; Criterion), the legendary Broadway documentary from D.A. Pennebaker, who captures the late night Columbia recording of Stephen Sondheim’s 1970 hit “Company.” Intended to be utilized as a (failed) pilot for a prospective series circling around how Broadway albums were made, this is a sensational, fly-on-the-wall work that takes you behind the scenes of Sondheim’s groundbreaking musical: Pennebaker’s camera showcases the indelible work of the cast (including Elaine Stritch and Dean Jones, who would leave the show shortly after it opened) while Columbia producer Thomas Z. Shepard interjects quite a few suggestions related to how the songs are miked and, occasionally, performed.

Even more input can be seen coming from Sondheim himself, whose demanding lyrics and melodic shifts take a toll on the performers during the lengthy session – no more so than Stritch’s performance of “The Ladies Who Lunch,” where a tired voice and Sondheim’s frustration leads to Stritch having to come back days later and belt out her classic Broadway number to a pre-recorded orchestra track.

There aren’t a lot of candid interviews or great insights into the human condition here – this is a straight-ahead, you-are-there look at artistic talents working under time constraints late into the New York City morning, at a time when Broadway was filled with emerging new voices. Let’s hope this marvelous reminder of what was leads to a revitalization of the performing arts during what’s been unquestionably one of the darkest, most devastating periods in its history.

Unseen for many years and highly coveted by Broadway buffs, “Original Cast Album: Company” debuted on Criterion’s streaming service at its inception and now makes its Blu-Ray debut from the label. The disc includes a 4K-restored 1080p transfer (1.33) that’s appropriately grainy and gritty, with a brand-new Sondheim commentary, as well as a 2001 commentary featuring Pennebaker, Stritch and the show’s director Harold Prince. Criterion has also produced a wonderful new 18-minute interview with the great, veteran orchestrator Jonathan Tunick, discussing not just “Company” but his craft itself; an interview featuring Sondheim, Tunick and former NY Times critic Frank Rich; never-before-heard audio excerpts from Stritch and Prince’s interviews with Pennebaker, recorded in 2001; the “Documentary Now” parody episode of the series mimicking the documentary, with a 2020 cast reunion segment; and an essay from author Mark Harris.

Highly recommended!

I've never seen a production of this or heard it, but I am familiar with how "Company" was among the first musicals to break away from the traditional structure/format that defined the classic period. That's probably been what's kept me away from it and all of Sondheim's musicals that came after "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum" (the one exception for me being "Into The Woods").

Dean Jones later said that he had to leave the show because he was going through a painful divorce at the time and consequently he found himself turned off by the musical's subject matter. He received assurances that he would be released after a month and that allowed him to concentrate on delivering outstanding work for opening night and the cast album. There was an interesting item in 2002 where the Newark Star-Ledger's theater critic Peter Filichia caught up with Jones at a tribute for his career and the moment when he knew he wanted to get out of the show came up.

"I was at the world premiere/first preview of Company at the Shubert Theatre in Boston in March, 1970, and I truly believe that I saw the precise moment when Jones--playing Bobby, the not-so-confirmed bachelor--said to himself, "I've got to get out of this show!" (which, of course, he did, right after the landmark musical debuted at the Alvin). It happened when he delivered his 11 o'clock number--not "Being Alive" but its predecessor, "Happily Ever After." During the song, Jones/Bobby told that older, Boston Brahmin-filled audience that marriage meant living "happily ever after in hell," and I saw his eyes widen to what seemed to be twice their usual size. So when I brought up Company at the press conference--not even yet asking him why he quit the show after opening night--Jones told those assembled, "I went out there in Boston and sang this song 'Happily Ever After' and I could feel the audience asking me, 'Why are you doing this to us?' I saw their eyes widen as they asked, 'Why do you hate us?'" Well, I was flabbergasted that he used the exact same expression--"eyes widen"--that I'd been using about him for more than three decades, and I told him so."

Jones is mentioned a good amount of times in the commentary, and he's also quite outstanding delivering the one main song he's shown performing here.

I've never been a huge Sondheim fan but I respect his work and have come to appreciate his musical ability. The story lines in a lot of his musicals can be weird, off-putting at times but when well-delivered they are compelling and at times quite brilliant.

Even if you don't care for his work, this is a really fascinating glimpse into the recording process of Broadway albums, especially back when they were popular, in a different, and obviously much more prolific, time (though I think the early '70s with SOME exceptions was a pretty poor time for expensively staged musicals. I was looking at the list of other musicals in the 1970 season and there were a load of flops).

Yes, I'm likely going to get it because I am fascinated by the history of Broadway musicals in general. People are so wired in to thinking that musically the 50s was all about the birth of Rock and Roll and Elvis that what gets forgotten is that the #1 selling album of the decade was the original cast album of "My Fair Lady".

Yep, it wasn't a great year for musicals. Four flop musicals that year came from hit movies ("Gantry" with Robert Shaw and Rita Moreno; "Look To The Lillies"; "La Strada" and "Georgy"). "Coco" was a middling success only because of the freak-show novelty of Katharine Hepburn in a musical. "Applause" was the only one to sort of have an after-life but it was hardly a classic.