Aidan deSalaiz & the cast of Company | Photo by Dahlia Katz
While not one of my top Stephen Sondheim shows, I like Company well enough. I’m not particularly hung up on solid plot, so I can dig “concept” musicals just fine, if they have compelling characters and good songs, which this absolutely does. It’s not jarringly dated either, providing sufficient truthful humanity that echo through the decades, but there are enough period zeitgeisty elements in George Furth’s book and a few of Sondheim’s lyrics that nestle it most comfortably in its original 1970s context.
Director Dylan Trowbridge’s production, presented by Talk Is Free Theatre, aims to be elusive in its placement. Varvara Evchuk’s costumes sport sly little nods to period fashion in colour, texture and style, but are vague enough to be just quirks of individual taste. Her set provides a highly stylized, elegantly festive vibe with a long sofa that swivels about before a backdrop of gauzy drapes and decorative baubles of light.
An effective aspect of this presentation is music director Stephan Ermal’s decision to scale back the orchestra to minimalist accompaniment—himself on piano and Aaron Schwebel on violin (at opening, alternating with Sarah Fraser Raff). Functionally the conductor, Ermal is also rather charmingly incorporated into the action, having adorable little interactions with the cast as a sort of ever-present nightclub act.
Originally intended to be a play, Furth’s story centres a bachelor named Bobby, celebrating his 35th birthday, angst-ridden about getting hitched while an assortment of New Yorker married friends provide snapshots of marriage for him and the audience to contemplate.
Trowbridge’s director’s note indicates that he wanted to lean into Bobby’s anxiety, this notion that he is “in crisis,” not having found love as he nears middle age. Though Aidan deSalaiz is amply charming with a solid voice, I just couldn’t really invest in Bobby’s plight. Even his “Being Alive”—the big, cathartic showstopper he nails vocally—didn’t quite do it for me. Dropping to his knees, clutching himself protectively, arms outstretched in gestures of theatrical vulnerability—these come off as rote musical theatre gestures of emotionality.
Gabi Epstein’s Joanne is one of the highlights of this production, her cougar-esque proposition to Bobby is one of the more desperate, deeply felt moments; however, my absolute favourite number, “Ladies Who Lunch,” is merely adequate here. She never quite reaches the level of drunken, abject hysteria needed to make it glorious. The mechanical way she passes her raised martini glass from hand to hand as punctuation for the final stretch is especially silly.
Throughout, there are some very cute, fun moments in Rohan Dhupar’s choreography, though it gets a little overwrought, old fashioned and busy. Specifically, the New York hustle and bustle shenanigans were an on-the-nose and distracting choice for “Another Hundred People,” which is better complimented by more understated gestures, allowing the rhythm of the music and the evocative lyrics to do most of the heavy lifting. As Marta, Sierra Holder is amusing and has a lovely voice, though she seems to lack either the breath control or confidence to sustain the final note straight through to the number’s sublime button.
Generally, I appreciate that the company has opted out of vocal amplification. Having none of the performers on mic does offer a naturalism that greatly appeals to me, though not all of the vocals are strong enough to make this work and allow us to fully appreciate the clever lyrics.
The impression I’ve been painting of this production has been rather lukewarm, so let me sing some more of its praises before landing on what I consider an appalling misstep (though it’s not this company’s fault).
I adored Maggie Walters’ April, the (supposedly) ditzy flight attendant Bobby’s been dating. As written, she’s one of the most honest and self-aware character’s here, not nearly as dim as she proclaims herself to be. Her interactions with Bobby are truly endearing. “Barcelona,” their post-tryst conversation is melancholic perfection, and clearly demonstrates what a disingenuous cad Bobby can be.
As Paul, the intensely affable and understanding fiancé of Amy (Sydney Cochrane)—whose cold feet are given hilarious voice in the show’s exceptionally challenging patter song “Not Getting Married Today”—Noah Beemer is such a warm, buoyant and sympathetic presence. His disheartened reaction to the called-off wedding is the most achingly truthful moment here.
Alas, we come to my biggest irritation: so, there is a scene from the original text that has been removed and replaced with a bit of action intended to address an important aspect of Bobby’s sexual life. Peter (Jeff Irving) brings up homosexuality in a meandering and hypothetical ploy to start up a romantic relationship with Bobby. I’ve seen this played entirely for laughs, as a gay panic bit—an interpretation I can’t stand; I’ve also seen it played with sincerity, as a genuine moment of uncomfortable, sweet and sad humanity between friends. Apparently, the Sondheim estate has officially suspended the rights to this bit of dialogue, fearing, I suspect, that gay panic reading. Trowbridge and the cast have devised a bit of action to address Bobby and Peter’s intimacy, but unfortunately it comes entirely out of left field and, without context, feels tokenistic.
Overall, this Company is entertaining and full of lovely moments. There’s some great stuff here. It just found it rather disappointing. And it doesn’t manage to raise the material any higher on my Sondheim tier list.
Company
January 15 to February 8, 2026
The Theatre Centre, Franco Boni Theatre
(1115 Queen Street West)
2 hours, 30 minutes
Gabi Esptein, Aidan deSalaiz & Michael Torontow in Company | Photo by Dahlia Katz