When I first heard that Sonoma Arts Live was staging Stephen Sondheim’s Follies, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and introspection. Sondheim’s work has always been a mirror to the human condition, but Follies is particularly unflinching in its exploration of memory, regret, and the passage of time. What makes this production even more intriguing is its timing—launching the 2026-27 season with a show that forces us to confront our own mortality and the choices that haunt us. Personally, I think this is a bold move for any theater company, but it’s one that Sonoma Arts Live seems uniquely poised to pull off.
One thing that immediately stands out is the setting: a crumbling Broadway theater slated for demolition in 1971. This isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a metaphor for the fragility of dreams and the inevitability of change. If you take a step back and think about it, the theater itself becomes a character in the story, a silent witness to the lives that once glittered on its stage. What many people don’t realize is that Sondheim often used physical spaces to reflect emotional states, and here, the decaying theater is a perfect foil for the characters’ own unraveling.
Director Pat Nims, known for his work on Rainmaker, has taken on the challenge of bringing this emotional weight to life. In my opinion, Nims’ focus on the duality of memory—where the past and present coexist in a tense, visible dialogue—is what will make this production unforgettable. The idea of characters being followed by their younger selves is both haunting and brilliant. It’s not just a gimmick; it’s a visceral way to show how our past choices shape our present realities. What this really suggests is that we’re never truly free from our histories, no matter how much we try to outrun them.
The cast, led by Tim Setzer, Beth Ellen Ethridge, Brandi Noveh, and Sean O’Brien, has the unenviable task of embodying characters who are both broken and resilient. A detail that I find especially interesting is the inclusion of the younger incarnations, played by Nile Ezekiel Garcia, Seana Nicol, Faustino Cadiz III, and Alexis Bueno. This isn’t just a visual trick; it’s a way to force the audience to confront their own reflections. From my perspective, this is where Follies transcends being a mere musical—it becomes a psychological study, a mirror held up to the audience’s own lives.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the role of music in the production. Anthony Mayer, the music director, and choreographer Tara Roberts have the challenge of balancing Sondheim’s brassy, complex score with the raw emotion of the narrative. Songs like “I’m Still Here” and “Losing My Mind” aren’t just showstoppers; they’re survival anthems, testaments to the human spirit’s ability to endure. Personally, I think these numbers will be the moments that linger with audiences long after the curtain falls.
But here’s where it gets even more intriguing: Follies isn’t just about individual regret; it’s a commentary on the broader cultural landscape of the 1970s. The crumbling theater, the faded showgirls, the sense of a bygone era—all of it reflects a society grappling with its own decline. What this really suggests is that Sondheim was ahead of his time, diagnosing a cultural malaise that still resonates today. If you take a step back and think about it, the themes of Follies—aging, disillusionment, the gap between dreams and reality—feel eerily relevant in our own era of uncertainty.
This raises a deeper question: Why do we keep returning to stories like Follies? In my opinion, it’s because they force us to confront the uncomfortable truths about ourselves. There’s a universality to the characters’ struggles that transcends time and place. Whether you’re a former showgirl or a 9-to-5 office worker, the specter of regret is something we all have to reckon with. What many people don’t realize is that this is where art does its most important work—not in escapism, but in holding up a mirror to our souls.
As the curtains rise on Sonoma Arts Live’s production, I can’t help but wonder what it will stir in its audience. Will it be catharsis? Melancholy? Or perhaps a renewed appreciation for the fleeting nature of life? From my perspective, the beauty of Follies lies in its ambiguity. It doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does invite us to ask the hard questions. And in a world that often feels overwhelmed by noise and distraction, that’s a rare and precious gift.
So, if you’re in Sonoma this September, I urge you to see this production. Not just because it’s Sondheim, not just because the cast and crew are pouring their hearts into it, but because it’s a chance to confront something we all carry—the ghosts of who we once were and the people we’ve become. Personally, I think that’s an opportunity not to be missed.
