“Funny Girl” Goes to the Movies

Not long ago, I watched newcomer Katerina McCrimmon make her Ahmanson Theatre debut in the road company of the Broadway revival of Funny Girl. The reviews of her performance in the leading role were ecstatic. Of course this was the 1964 stage musical that had once made an star of Barbra Streisand, who then followed it to Hollywood and never left. It’s the story of Vaudeville legend Fanny Brice, who headlined the famous Ziegfeld Follies revues in the 1920s, then eventually brought her comedy chops and her powerful singing voice into films and radio.   

 This century’s Funny Girl revival first starred Beanie Feldstein, a lively film performer (see Booksmart) who was judged to lack the singing skills needed to impersonate Brice. She was quickly replaced by TV favorite Lea Michele (Glee). Michele instantly won raves in a role for which she may have been auditioning when performing Brice’s torchy theme song, “My Man,” at a Grammy charity event. As a Southern Californian, I didn’t get to see Michele onstage, so McCrimmon would have to do. No question she’s a powerhouse singer, as well as an appealing stage presence, though actually impersonating Brice seems beyond her.  For one thing, she can’t match Brice’s distinctive physical presence: whereas Brice was relatively tall, angular, and gawky, McCrimmon is short and curvy. Some of the show’s naughtiest lyrics (“When a girl’s incidentals are no bigger than two lentils . . .”) don’t match her bosomy physique at all.

 The chance to finally see Funny Girl on stage made me curious about the show’s history. The original stage and screen versions were produced by Hollywood insider Ray Stark, who just happened to be married to Brice’s daughter, and thus had a vested interest in making the character of Fanny as lively as possible. She’s also capable, smart, self-conscious of her looks, and has lousy taste in men. That’s what I took away from the stage production: the notion that a savvy and talented woman is dumb enough to sacrifice everything for a guy who doesn’t deserve her. Nicky Arnstein was, in reality, a swindler and a cad. The stage version softens the details of his life, but giving him a big ballad about feeling threatened by his wife’s fame doesn’t make him any more appealing.

 Pondering this, I turned to the writings of Ethan Mordden, whose 2019 On Streisand: An Opinionated Guide is a deep dive into the whole of Barbra Streisand’s career on stage, disc and film. Mordden lays out the backstage challenges of the stage version (for one thing, the very green Streisand felt she was right about pretty much everything). But the film? As directed by Hollywood veteran William Wyler, it captures Streisand’s remarkable similarity to Brice, adds some terrifically goofy Ziegfeld Follies showstoppers, enhances “Don’t Rain on My Parade” with a spectacular ride on a train and a New York Harbor tugboat, and removes some songs no one will miss. The casting of the Egyptian Omar Sharif as the Jewish-American Nicky Arnstein is a misstep: he looks dashing, but his performance is pretty much one note. It’s a plus, though, that he is deprived of any plaintive ballads in the second half. Perhaps the best thing about the film is that it adds in some actual Brice material, like “Second-Hand Rose” and (as a grand finale) Streisand soulfully belting out “My Man,” as only she can.  I’ve never really been a Streisand devotee, and I’ve disliked her over-the-top style in other projects, but this is a performance for the ages.