The Broadway musical *Girl, Interrupted* opened June 3 at the Lyric Theatre, where it has already drawn mixed reviews for its subdued staging and uneven adaptation of Susanna Kaysen’s 1993 memoir.
A Musical That Feels Like a Missed Opportunity
Susanna Kaysen’s *Girl, Interrupted* has long been a touchstone for discussions about mental health, trauma, and female solidarity. The 1999 film adaptation—starring Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie—cemented its place in pop culture, while the book itself remains a staple in psychology and literature courses. So when a Broadway musical version premiered this week, expectations were understandably high. But *Girl, Interrupted* the musical, now running at the Lyric Theatre, arrives as a surprisingly muted affair—one that prioritizes tranquility over turbulence, and in doing so, risks losing the raw, unsettling power of its source material.
The production, directed by Sam Mendes and choreographed by Jamal Sims, is a far cry from the chaotic, cathartic energy of the book or film. Instead, it leans into a quiet, almost clinical tone, with a score by Duncan Sheik (best known for *Spring Awakening*) that feels more like a lullaby than a rebellion. Early reviews suggest the musical’s biggest misstep may not be its storytelling, but its refusal to fully embrace the psychological intensity that made the original story so compelling.
According to The New York Times, critics have noted how the musical’s staging—while visually striking—lacks the emotional punch of its predecessors. Ben Brantley, the paper’s chief theater critic, wrote that the production “feels like it’s been given a sedative,” adding that the musical’s attempt to soften the edges of Kaysen’s harrowing experiences risks diluting their impact. The *Hollywood Reporter* echoed this sentiment, describing the show as “a missed chance to confront the darker themes head-on.”
The Book vs. The Musical: What Got Lost in Translation
Kaysen’s memoir is a first-person account of her 18-month stay at a psychiatric hospital in the 1960s, where she navigates institutional neglect, manipulative patients, and her own dissociative episodes. The book’s power lies in its unflinching honesty—its depiction of mental illness as neither glamorous nor neatly resolved, but rather a messy, often painful process. The 1999 film, while commercially successful, took creative liberties—most notably, recasting Kaysen as Daisy (Ryder), a patient with borderline personality disorder, and introducing a fictional love story. Yet even that adaptation retained a sense of urgency, with Jolie’s portrayal of the volatile Daisy serving as a counterpoint to Ryder’s more subdued performance.
The musical, however, seems to have taken a different approach. Interviews with the creative team suggest a deliberate shift toward a more universal, less clinical perspective. Daisy Hernandez, who plays Susanna in the production, told Playbill that the musical aims to “humanize the experience” rather than “recreate the trauma.” While that intent is commendable, early reactions indicate it may have come at the expense of the story’s emotional rawness.
One of the musical’s most controversial changes is its handling of Daisy, the character who in the book and film is a volatile, self-destructive force. In the musical, her portrayal—by Ariana DeBose—has been described as more sympathetic, even heroic. Some critics argue this revision weakens the character’s role as a catalyst for conflict, while others praise it as a necessary update for modern audiences. Yet the shift raises questions: Is the musical trying to be a period piece, or is it reimagining the story for today’s sensibilities? The answer, so far, feels ambiguous.
The Score: Where the Musical Finds Its Voice
If the staging and character dynamics have drawn criticism, the music—composed by Duncan Sheik with lyrics by Brian Crawley—has received more praise. The score blends folk, rock, and theatrical elements, with a particular emphasis on female vocal harmonies that evoke the camaraderie of the hospital’s patients. Early performances suggest the musical shines in its ensemble numbers, particularly in scenes depicting group therapy sessions.
One standout moment is the song “The Rules”
, which critiques the oppressive norms of the psychiatric institution. According to Variety, the number has been praised for its sharp lyrics and soaring harmonies, offering a rare moment where the musical’s political edge cuts through its otherwise restrained tone. Yet even here, some critics note that the music’s gentleness can feel at odds with the subject matter. As Linda Winer of Newsday put it, “The score is beautiful, but it’s also a little too polite for what the story demands.”
The musical’s biggest challenge may be balancing its artistic vision with the expectations of its source material. Kaysen’s memoir is not just a story about mental health—it’s a story about survival, defiance, and the messy, unglamorous reality of healing. The musical, by contrast, often feels like it’s tiptoeing around those themes rather than diving into them.
The Audience Reaction: Relief or Disappointment?
Early audience reactions have been divided. Some patrons have praised the musical’s emotional restraint, describing it as a “soothing, cathartic experience” that avoids the shock value of the book and film. Others, however, have expressed frustration, particularly those familiar with the original material. Reddit threads and Twitter discussions (where the hashtag #GirlInterruptedMusical
has trended) reveal a clear divide: fans of the book and film often feel the musical has sanitized its subject, while newcomers appreciate its accessibility.
One recurring criticism is the musical’s pacing. With a runtime of just under two hours (including intermission), some reviewers argue that the story feels rushed, as if key moments have been trimmed to maintain a lighter tone. The *New Yorker*’s Hilton Als noted that the musical’s most powerful scenes—those dealing with Susanna’s dissociation and the hospital’s failures—are handled with a “gentle hand,” leaving little room for the audience to grapple with the material.
Yet there are signs the production may evolve. Mendes, known for his ability to extract emotional depth from even the most challenging material (*The Ferryman*, *Cabaret*), has a history of refining his work in response to early feedback. If the musical’s current tone feels too restrained, it’s possible that future performances—or even a revised workshop—could address some of these concerns.
What Comes Next for *Girl, Interrupted*?
As of June 5, the musical is in its early weeks, with no official word on whether it will extend its limited engagement or pursue a national tour. Given the mixed reviews, the production’s future hinges on whether it can find a middle ground between its artistic vision and the expectations of its audience.
One thing is clear: *Girl, Interrupted* the musical is not the same story as the book or film. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing—adaptations should evolve, especially when dealing with such sensitive material. But the risk, as early reactions suggest, is that in softening the edges, the musical may have lost the very qualities that made the original story so enduring.
For now, audiences are left with a production that is visually striking, musically accomplished, and—above all—safe. Whether that’s enough to sustain it remains to be seen.
