Matt Murray @ Talkin' Broadway agrees with me. "Who, come to think of it, rounds out the cast? Whereas Lansbury and Zeta-Jones land every lyric, line, and emotion, their castmates are lucky to eke out 65 percent most of the time. Hanson, who originated Fredrik in this production in London, is so stodgy and unappealing, it's unclear why either Desirée or Anne would think twice of him. Herdlicka is consistently whiny hissy-fitty, looking (with his mop-like hair) and sounding like he should be instead touring in Spring Awakening; Mallory is shrill on her lines, uncomfortably belty in her high-reaching songs, and unconvincingly innocent. Lazar and Davie should be in the show's most unbreakable roles, but derive only a fraction of the characters' laughs and musical pleasures. Note, however, that this is probably not an oversight. Lazar and Davie are two of Broadway's most robust, legitimate singers, but are here undersinging throughout. And they're not alone: The quintet chorus of interested onlookers is made up of similarly gifted vocalists in Stephen R. Buntrock, Jayne Paterson, Marissa McGowan, Kevin David Thomas, and Betsy Morgan, who likewise are subdued almost to the point of Sprechstimme. One suspects that Nunn is downplaying the show's musical values in order to amplify its intimacy, which he practically confirms by so cranking down the tempos that most of the numbers barely step livelier than hangover slurring and using an instrumental complement of eight that is utterly insufficient for conveying any of the lushness on which the show has traditionally thrived. (Jason Carr's new orchestrations are insulting to Jonathan Tunick's magnificently symphonic originals.) True, this does place additional emphasis on Sondheim's lyrics, and you'll hear every syllable in the kind of ultra-crisp diction one seldom experiences outside of productions of My Fair Lady."
