Let me ask you this: Have you ever stood in front of a mirror and felt like two versions of yourself were staring back? One with the spark of youth, the other with the weight of years. That’s the existential tightrope ‘Follies’ walks, and it’s why I find this production so compelling. Sonoma Arts Live’s upcoming staging isn’t just another musical—it’s a psychological dissection of how we cling to the past while being haunted by it. And in an age where we’re all curating endless digital memories, this feels more urgent than ever.
The play’s setting—a decaying Broadway theater slated for demolition—is a metaphor we’ve all lived through. Think of it as the physical manifestation of regret: something once vibrant, now crumbling under the weight of its own history. Director Pat Nims, who’s previously helmed works like ‘Rainmaker,’ has a knack for making the abstract feel visceral. What makes this particularly fascinating is his approach to the characters’ ghosts. Instead of treating them as mere stage props, he’s framing them as co-stars in a dialogue between who we were and who we’ve become. It’s a narrative device that feels tragically relevant in a culture obsessed with nostalgia filters and curated timelines.
The casting choices here are more than just technical—they’re philosophical. When Buddy and Phyllis Stone (Tim Setzer and Beth Ellen Ethridge) confront their younger selves (Nile Ezekiel Garcia and Seana Nicol), it’s not just about looking back. It’s about the dissonance between the choices we made and the lives we ended up with. I can’t help but think of how many of us have replayed decisions in our heads, wondering if a different path might have led to a happier ending. The play doesn’t offer answers—it forces us to sit with the discomfort of our own unresolved regrets.
And then there’s the music. Sondheim’s work has always been a masterclass in emotional precision, but what strikes me is how the songs in ‘Follies’ act as emotional X-rays. Tracks like ‘Losing My Mind’ aren’t just showstoppers; they’re raw confessions. The production’s music director, Anthony Mayer, must be walking a tightrope between preserving Sondheim’s legacy and making it feel fresh. In an era where pop music often prioritizes hooks over heart, this is a rare reminder that vulnerability can still move audiences.
What many people don’t realize is how much this play mirrors our current cultural moment. We live in a time where social media allows us to rewrite our pasts, but ‘Follies’ reminds us that the ghosts we carry aren’t easily exorcised. The younger versions of the characters—played by a stellar ensemble including Faustino Cadiz III and Alexis Bueno—aren’t just visual gags. They’re symbolic of the parts of ourselves we’ve tried to bury. It’s a haunting concept, and one that resonates deeply in a world where we’re constantly editing our histories.
I find it fascinating that the play’s climax hinges on a choice that’s both personal and universal. When the characters finally confront their pasts, it’s not a tidy resolution but a reckoning. This raises a deeper question: Do we need to face our regrets to move forward, or are some memories best left buried? The answer, of course, isn’t clear-cut. But that’s the beauty of ‘Follies’—it doesn’t offer closure. It offers a mirror, and that mirror reflects back at us, unflinching.
As for the production itself, the details matter. The opening night reception with sparkling wine and dessert sounds almost frivolous compared to the weight of the story, but that contrast is deliberate. It’s a reminder that life’s sweetness and its sorrows are often intertwined. And in a world where we’re constantly chasing the next big thing, this play is a necessary pause—a chance to look back, not with longing, but with clarity.
So when you see ‘Follies,’ don’t just watch the spectacle. Listen closely. Because in every note, every step, and every lingering glance between characters, there’s a question being asked of you: What ghosts are you still carrying? And more importantly, what will you do with them?
