On TV’s “Will & Grace,” Sean Hayes played mercurial third wheel Jack McFarland, who flitted happily from one quip to the next. Now, Hayes finds himself atop a major Broadway revival of the 1968 romantic comedy “Promises, Promises.” Jack McFarland and Chuck Baxter may seem like similar roles — they’re both scheming-yet-appealing urbanites — but while Chuck, an ambitious office fellow, may spout Neil Simon’s signature one-liners, he’s driven by an all-consuming love for the waitress in the office dining room, here played by Kristin Chenoweth, who doesn’t look for a moment like she’s ever going to bus anyone’s table.
And therein lies the problem with Hayes’ key performance in Rob Ashland’s intermittently amusing but emotionally unsatisfying revival. This invulnerable Chuck feels pre-packaged and self-contained. He doesn’t seem to want or need anything, including that troubled waitress. And although Hayes’ Chuck talks to us all night, you never really feel that anything has been revealed.
“Promises, Promises” badly needs a transfusion of that missing romantic heart. This revival appears timed to cash in on the current “Mad Men”-fueled fascination with the naughty 1960s workplace. But one of the paradoxes of “Mad Men”-mania is that while it has revived interest in corporate cocktails and office affairs, the TV show is so profoundly well-written that it casts a harsh shadow over the failings of some of the era’s contemporaneous literature.
Certainly, Simon’s book contains no profound social realities. Based on Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond’s “The Apartment,” “Promises, Promises” has romantic complications that evolve from philandering executives’ need for a convenient Manhattan apartment to bed their conquests (the head dog, J.D. Sheldrake, prosaically played by Tony Goldwyn, is the chief villain.) Our young narrator, Chuck, has such a place, and this helps drive him up the corporate chain. It’s an amusing setup. There is one really great comedic scene involving a depressed Chuck’s pick-up of a bar-room floozy named Margie, played to show-stealing effect by Katie Finneran, a sparkling comic actress who also pulls out Hayes’ most spontaneous, and thus funniest, moments in the show.
That and the shtick involving the long-suffering doctor (sardonically played by Dick Latessa) who lives next to the busy apartment, come replete with laughs. But Simon never figured out how to integrate the songs. Whenever someone feels a solo number coming on, the other characters invariably come up with some absurd reason to clear the stage.
Those songs are Bert Bacharach and Hal David’s timeless masterpieces: “A House is Not a Home,” “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again” and the lesser-known but gorgeously melodic “Knowing When to Leave.” Bacharah and David’s “I Say a Little Prayer” has been added to the show, giving Chenoweth more to sing.
Hayes has only a passable voice, but Chenoweth sings these swinging ditties with her signature blend of smoothness and bite, capturing the complexities of their rousing female spirit but bittersweet sexual politics. And when she’s in full vocal flight, the show manages to reveal some transformative truths — so, occasionally, does Ashland’s choreography, when it really hones in on the perils of illicit relationships.
But once the music stops playing, you’re left with a character, Chenoweth’s Fran, suffering from her own lousy choices and the selfishness of married men, but still believing in the promises of love.
“Promises, Promises” plays at the Broadway Theatre, 1681 Broadway. Call 212-239-6200.