Jonathan J. Miner
The cast of "Company," Four Seasons Theatre, 2025.
The cast of "Company," Four Seasons Theatre, 2025.
What does it mean to want love yet fear commitment? To be surrounded by friends and still feel alone? To crave connection while resisting the very thing that offers it? Few musicals capture these contradictions as incisively as Company, Stephen Sondheim and George Furth's exploration of modern relationships.
When Company premiered in 1970, it was funny, unflinchingly honest, and radical in both form and content. More than 50 years later, its questions remain just as relevant, even as the world has shifted. Fewer people are getting married, relationships are more fluid, dating apps have reshaped connection, and LGBTQ+ identities are more openly embraced.
The fears of the key character of Bobby -- fears of settling, of loneliness, of never quite getting it right -- still resonate. In an era of endless choices, they take on a new kind of weight.
Four Seasons Theatre's production of the musical, running through March 2 at The Playhouse at Overture Center, strips Company down to its essence, relying almost entirely on the strength of its cast and Sondheim's intricate score. With minimal set design and staging, the storytelling rests squarely on the performances.
The set is essentially a black box, with black furniture serving as the only defining elements -- a stark, neutral space that allows the actors to shape each moment. Sarah Marty's costume design is strong and evocative, helping to create a sense of time and place amid the minimalism. As the producing artistic director, costume designer, stage director, and even the show's warm-up act, Marty does it all.
When this production works, it really works; it hits deep, sharp, and true. It hums with energy, and the audience responds with an equal energy. Director Sarah Marty brings out lovely nuances in the performances, but at times, the pacing lingers when it should press forward. Company's episodic structure demands a certain snap. Without it, the vignettes risk feeling disjointed.
Early moments feel restrained, as if the production is searching for its identity. Sense of place feels elusive. Emotional clarity flickers through, then fades. As the cast settles in, the show loosens -- humor sharpens, interactions feel more authentic. It's a slow build, but by the second act, the production delivers some of its biggest emotional punches.
Four Seasons Theatre has built a reputation for championing local talent, and this production is no exception. That community-driven approach brings authenticity to the work, and while performances vary, the production finds its most compelling moments in the sharpest character work and emotionally charged performances.
At the heart of it all is Bobby, the perpetual bachelor stuck between craving connection and fearing commitment. Chaz Ingraham delivers a sincere performance, outwardly engaging but ultimately presenting Bobby's internal struggle in a way that feels restrained.
Bobby is a tricky role -- an actor must make stillness as compelling as movement, ensuring that every hesitation feels like it could crack open at any moment. Ingraham excels at portraying Bobby's internal struggle, but at times, his restraint works against him. His final moment in "Being Alive" is beautifully sung, yet his performance falls short of the emotional climax the show demands, missing the deep transformation that should define Bobby's journey.
Sheridan Hearn's Marta is a standout, delivering "Another Hundred People" with restless, electric energy. Marta's love affair with the city -- her excitement, her ambivalence, her need for movement -- feels fully realized in Hearn's hands. It's a thrilling performance that lifts everything around it.
Jessica Jane Witham is another major asset as Joanne, the show's martini-soaked cynic. She leans into Joanne's biting wit and undercurrent of self-loathing, making "The Ladies Who Lunch" feel less like a performance and more like an unraveling. She doesn't just sing it; she dissects it until there's nothing left except raw bitterness and regret. It's the emotional high point of the production.
Kate Jajewski's Amy handles "Getting Married Today" with technical precision, nailing the song's rapid-fire wordplay. She and her real-life husband, Dan Jajewski as Paul, share easy chemistry. Their dynamic, however, lacks the push-and-pull needed to make the scene crackle. The humor lands, but the contrast between Amy's panic and Paul's quiet devotion could be sharper.
Among the men, Drew Brhel's singing is a highlight, bringing warmth and polish to his performance. Natalie Davies offers a fresh take on April, the flight attendant Bobby nearly marries. Davies brings a grounded sweetness to the role, making her more endearing than ditzy. Her performance in "Barcelona" finds unexpected charm in a number that can sometimes feel like a throwaway.
Musically, the production is in strong hands under Thomas Kasdorf's direction, particularly in navigating Sondheim's complex rhythms. Even so, the funk and groove sections feel overly restrained, missing the looseness that gives them their drive.
Despite a few uneven moments, Company remains a compelling and modern exploration of relationships, commitment, and the fear of being alone.