The First Musical Opening Of The Season

A review of 'Days of Wine and Roses' and an afterparty debrief.

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The haze rising from the busted ground pipe couldn’t make for better atmosphere, encircling the entrance of Studio 54 as sequin-clad show-biz elite enter the theater. I’m stationed outside in a faux fur collared black coat, waiting on my date. For the four hundredth time, I check that my paper tickets and party passes – the kind obtained by “invite only” and picked up from the box office – are still in my purse.


Around me stragglers are smoking hurried cigarettes or taking a final photo in front of the marquis. I sense a buzz around me, separate from the standard opening night fanfare or gay gasp Bernadette Peters elicited from me as she walked through the theater lobby. This is anticipation for another new beginning on Broadway. We’ve come out in our regalia for the first big opening of the 2024 season.


My dear friend arrives, and we reach our seats five minutes before Kelli O’Hara and Brian d’Arcy James take the stage. Days of Wine and Roses (on Broadway through March 31st) follows an alcoholic husband and wife who bond over addiction and fall deeper into a downward spiral throughout the years of their marriage. It’s alcoholism and desperation… set to music! With so much of Broadway picking at Hollywood’s scraps, I’ve been curious how such depressing subject matter, drawn from the 1962 film of the same name, would translate to a musical. Still, attending a show – any show – is a privilege. The luxury of fleeting art available only to the lucky few in this room.

“Still, attending a show – any show – is a privilege. The luxury of fleeting art available only to the lucky few in this room.”

“What did you think?” I ask two hours later as we step back onto the street. It’s an unspoken rule never to dissect a show within the four walls of the theater. You never know who might be exiting next to you. Not to mention, it’s a small token of respect. Now that we’re back in fresh air, everything is fair game. There’s only a three block walk to the afterparty to debrief.


The performances are the first thing we rave about. The show’s greatest sell, its two bona fide Broadway star leads, is also its greatest strength. Few musicals leave me stunned by subtle dramatic acting, but O’Hara manages to reach the rafters with her vocal talent while finding quiet beats of humanity. James is equally good, adding charm and pathos to what could be a deeply unlikable character. The subject matter is treated with reverence and avoids becoming preachy. The songs motivate the story and add to the emotion, but by the end of our three-minute walk, I couldn’t recall the lyrics to a single one.

“It’s an unspoken rule never to dissect a show within the four walls of the theater. You never know who might be exiting next to you.”

The show’s 1950s setting is notable. The characters’ family dynamic is traditional and gender roles almost quaint. The time period adds interest to the costumes and set design, which skillfully lean into 1950s iconography without relying on cliché. Still, I find myself wondering about the word “relevance” when it comes to Wine and Roses. It’s not a modern musical, and yet, it succeeds because its subject is as heartbreaking now as it was sixty years earlier.


Many shows I’ve seen devoted to capturing “the times we live in”– often emphasizing the craziness of the pandemic or marveling at the upcoming election cycle – offer neither escapism nor a reason to care. Wine and Roses succeeds at both. I surprised myself by breaking down in the second act, when O’Hara’s heroine attempted to repair a broken relationship with their daughter.


“So, are you ready for a drink?” My friend laughs. Who’s going to be able to party after two hours with the ravages of alcoholism? Apparently, almost everyone. Saying, “I feel so guilty,” before taking a sip of wine becomes a universal icebreaker. The after party is at the Red Eye Grill. I have no one to network with so I adore these things. Free food, wine, and plenty of “people watching.” I find myself geeking out at the coat check as George Takei discusses New York neighborhoods five feet behind.

“Many shows I’ve seen devoted to capturing 'the times we live in'– often emphasizing the craziness of the pandemic or marveling at the upcoming election cycle – offer neither escapism nor a reason to care. Wine and Roses succeeds at both.”

First, I hit the buffet, the great equalizer, where celebrities, producers, and plus ones alike knock elbows over guacamole and Caprese salad. Everyone looks equally ridiculous and never seems to have enough hands. My friend and I play musical chairs with some people she knows, taking turns sitting and eating vs standing and drinking. All of us enjoyed the show as much as we were depressed by it, but we’ve bounced back nicely. The sea of wine glasses on the bar signals celebration, not sadness.


Next to a bouquet of roses at the bar, I find myself talking to a part time poet. His friend’s a filmmaker of some sort and they’re both the kind of multi-hyphenate only New York produces. I tell him I’m also a writer without worrying about backing up the statement with an impressive resume. It’s all just fun. We both love what we’re here for, and there’s instant solidarity in loving live theater.


Eventually, I check my phone. Nearing midnight on a Sunday. I make my excuses to the poet, hug my date goodbye, and jog to the 57th street subway station. Later, I turn the key into my one bedroom and toss the Playbill on the kitchen counter. The cat rubs against my legs, happy to have me home. It’s back to the office tomorrow, back to the banal, back to a turtleneck sweater instead of a vintage black velvet dress.


Lucky for me – for us – this was just the first musical of the season. There’s so much more to see. Below are just a few favorites.




“Oh, Mary!” is playing at Lucille Lortel Theater. I’ve heard nothing but raves.


Anxious party hosts may find solace in “Grief House,” now extended through April 20th at The Public.


“Sweeney Todd,” my favorite Broadway offering of last year, will feature Sutton Foster and Aaron Tveit for the next 10 weeks.


“Brooklyn Laundry,” a new John Patrick Shanley play, is running through the end of March at Manhattan Theater Club and rumored to be as prized as an in-unit washer and dryer.


Great news for latecomers, “Appropriate” starring Sarah Paulson, has been extended through June 23rd.


“The Notebook” opens March 14th for fans of romance and rainstorms.


A revival of The Who’s “Tommy” opens March 28th and puts its audience inside the pinball machine.


Ibsen’s “Enemy of the People” opens March 18th, reworked by Amy Herzog and starring notoriously method man Jeremy Strong.

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