Review of the Wednesday, December 3, 2025 matinee performance at the St. James Theatre in New York City. Starring Sherie Rene Scott, F. Murray Abraham, Melody Butiu, Stephen DeRosa, Greg Hildreth, Tatum Grace Hopkins, Isabel Keating and Nina White. Music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz. Book by Lindsey Ferrentino. Based on Lauren Greenfield's documentary film, The Queen of Versailles, and the life stories of Jackie and David Siegel. Orchestrations by John Clancy. Music supervision by Mary-Mitchell Campbell. Scenic and video design by Dane Laffery. Costume design by Christian Cowan. Lighting design by Natasha Katz. Sound design by Peter Hylenski. Choreography by Lauren Yalango-Grant and Christopher Cree Grant. Direction by Michael Arden. 2 hours 30 minutes, including one intermission.
I've heard it said that no show is as great as its best review, nor is it as bad as its worst review. That is certainly the case with the hot mess that is The Queen of Versailles. It is a pretty lavish production, that is, shall we say, efficiently staged. There are some actually funny lines, and there are a couple of decent songs. It also suffers from an identity crisis. Is this a send up? Is this a sincere effort at a bio-musical? Is it a French history lesson? A scathing commentary on billionaire Americans? Who knows? Who cares?
Based on the documentary film of the same title, the show tells the story of the rise and fall of Jackie Siegel, who did a lot - put herself through college (Red Lobster waitress, corpse cleaner, etc.) and earns an engineering degree. Desperation, an abusive first husband, and a baby led her to, among other things, a Mrs. Florida pageant, for which she won $1,500. Some other stuff happens, then along comes David, an older man with money to burn who wants to take her in and fulfill her every champagne wish and caviar dream. She becomes addicted to the more and more and still more lifestyle, and inexplicably loses her backbone and her intelligence.
Lindsey Ferrentino's book covers quite a bit of territory and manages to wring out every drop of blood out of the heavy-handed French Revolution metaphor, including a grizzly depiction of the moments leading to the beheading of the aristocracy. Not only is it unnecessary (it adds zero to the story), but it is also inappropriately laughable. I half expected the poor ensemble to begin vogue-ing a la the MTV awards performance by Madonna. It was that campy. Plot holes? Sure! Where are all of the rest of her kids? Why does she become such an airhead? Why are her parents relentlessly cheery and unwilling to stop their daughter from making such stupid choices?
Stephen Schwartz maybe should have stuck to his vow to stop writing for Broadway. Is he embarrassed by what he's done here? He should be. There are a couple of decent songs -don't ask me which ones, I don't remember - but I do remember that they are sung by secondary characters. Mostly though, the songs don't stick with you, but rather leave impressions. Several times, I literally cringed at the verbal acrobatics necessary to get lines to rhyme. Why, Stephen, why? There is one number I don't think I'll ever erase from my memory, try as I will, and that is the insane "The Ballad of the Timeshare King" number with F. Murray Abraham center stage "yee haw-ing" his way through the lavish scenery and video changes while surrounded by cowboy-clad dancers. Tacky and jaw-droppingly bad. How the mighty have fallen. To his credit, Abraham gives a fully committed, very game performance. You can't accuse him of phoning it in!
The rest of the cast seems equally committed to giving their all, though at times I felt like they were slightly embarrassed. Both Stephen DeRosa and Isabel Keating do what they can with the one-note roles they are given. And I actually felt sorry for Greg Hildreth who is saddled with an almost non-existent character who tells us everything we need to know about him like he's reciting a Wikipedia page. He even gets to say (inevitably) "Let them eat cake!" before he makes his exit. All three deserve better. It is a crime that that much talent was wasted. The same could be said for Melody Bitiu who manages to actually make us care about her long-suffering nanny character, and it was fun that she got to talk about Imelda Marcos' shoes after having co-starred in Here Lies Love a couple of seasons ago.
The two most interesting characters (I might have enjoyed a whole musical about them) are Jackie's daughter Victoria and her niece Jonquil. Played by Nina White and Tatum Grace Hopkins respectively, both have interesting arcs, providing the only two voices of reason in a sea of chaos. They even manage to survive the most cringey ballad in recent Broadway history when they bury a neglected pet lizard. Will their careers survive?
What dancing there is - that cowboy thing and a rummage sale production number are all that stick out to me - is serviceable at best. That it took two people to create it (Lauren Yalango-Grant and Christopher Cree Grant) is as shocking as the amateur quality of it. That Michael Arden was able to keep it all moving so efficiently should be studied. The number of moving pieces here are astonishing. But efficiency does not an interesting - let alone moving or even meaningful - musical make. It is hard to believe this is work by the same person responsible for the wonder that was the beauty of Spring Awakening or the utter charm of Maybe Happy Ending.
Technically, the show is aces - you certainly get your money's worth. Christian Cowan's reported 1,100 costumes are a sight to behold, and Natasha Katz' lighting is elegant and vibrant. Dane Laffery pulled double duty as video designer and scenic designer. They are lavish and plentiful and have a few nice surprises.
The entire reason we even got tickets, though, was to see Sherie Rene Scott. She did not disappoint. Equal parts sincerity and playful parody, she truly made a meal out of a morsel. She had us in the palm of her hand from her first entrance right through to the curtain call. You could feel the empathy in the audience when she asks, "are they laughing at us or with us?" And you almost feel sorry for her at the end when she's all alone in the huge ballroom, the only part of the house that was completed. (Talk about unintentional irony!)
I can't even imagine Kristin in the role. I don't want to. I am glad we saw Sherie.
Sadly, the whole thing left me as empty and cold as that ballroom.
📸: J. Cervantes, M. Murphy
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