The new version of Sondheim’s Company suggests that 35 is make or break for women – enough already
I am one of those people who generally dreads going to the theatre, mainly because I like to eat supper after 6pm but before 11pm. But I made an exception last week and went to director Marianne Elliott’s delightful new take on Company, Stephen Sondheim’s musical about single versus marital life. (I am also one of those people who loves Sondheim, and being someone who avoids the theatre but loves Sondheim is like loving to swim but hating the water. Welcome to my pain.)
In the original version, Bobby, a 35-year-old man in New York, frets about his perennially single status, while all his married friends urge him to commit. The first time I saw Company, I was a 33-year-old woman living in New York and as single as it was possible to be without being an actual nun, and, as much as I loved the musical, I left feeling furious. (Loving a musical and also feeling furious about it: truly, my pain never ends.) Was I really supposed to worry about a single 35-year-old man? I should probably mention here that I’d recently gone on a date with a single 35-year-old man who told me he normally only dated twentysomethings, but that for decrepit old me he’d made an exception. So forgive me, Sondheim, if my sympathy was in short supply.
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