During casual conversations with neighboring audience members, the topic naturally turns to which shows are worth seeing. Many people recommended Death Becomes Her, describing it as a well-executed comedy. When I once asked how they managed the famous head-turn effect, I received only a smile and the answer, “They did it cleverly.” That was enough to make the show a must-see on my next Broadway trip.

I booked one of the highest seats and ended up surrounded by lively groups during a Thanksgiving trip to New York. The atmosphere was very different from my usual theater experience. It felt like a party even before the curtain went up. Watching the show itself was also different: I missed quite a few second punch lines because of the laughter and reactions from nearby audience members. But this turned out to suit the show perfectly. Death Becomes Her works best when watched with friends.

The three female leads are Madeline Ashton (Megan Hilty), Helen Sharp (Jennifer Simard), and Viola Van Horn (Michelle Williams). Madeline and Helen felt so natural and sharp that I found myself thinking they must have played these roles for years. Their comic timing and acting rhythms matched beautifully. Viola, by contrast, was a charismatic, almost demonic goddess, delivering powerful belting numbers such as “Don’t Say I Didn’t.” Whenever she appeared on stage, the ensemble seemed to expand, and the show instantly took on a Las Vegas–style spectacle, with the performance energy directed boldly toward the audience.

The first part of the show centers on Madeline, the fading star, and her assistant Stefan (Josh Lamon). With rapid costume changes, Madeline makes a spectacular entrance in “Me, Me, Me,” a perfect introduction to her character. Her exaggerated gestures and clear, ringing voice were a constant comedic pleasure. Jennifer Simard’s Helen was especially strong, showing real depth as the character moves from a mental hospital to becoming a celebrated writer. Helen doesn’t seem to notice the audience at all. Madeline absolutely does — which makes sense for a three-time Oscar nominee. I laughed so hard during “Let’s Run Away Together” that I nearly cried.

This show would fall flat if the chemistry between the two leading ladies did not land. Fortunately, they are vocally powerful and act together like a well-oiled machine.

Ernest Menville, Helen’s fiancé who betrays her to marry Madeline, is played by Christopher Sieber. His awkwardness fits the role perfectly. The part is not designed for the actor to dominate the stage, but he has his moments, particularly in “The Plan,” and his final outcome—growing old with his wife and grandchildren—lands as a quietly ironic resolution.

I also appreciated that Madeline’s assistant Stefan has his own brief solo, and that it is a joyful one. It gives the character a small but satisfying moment of individuality.

Before attending, I was curious how the production would handle the famous death effects. The head-turn and body separation are essentially stage illusions, but within the context of a live musical they are effective and eye-catching. I especially liked Helen’s costume with a large hole through the front and back, which looked disturbingly real. The staircase fall—perhaps the most anticipated moment—was staged in slow, carefully choreographed motion. The subsequent sequence, in which the two women escalate their attempts to harm each other, was equally entertaining.

The set design is thoughtfully constructed, with an appropriate level of extravagance. The most striking space is Viola’s mansion, where rows of columns create a strong illusion of depth and grandeur.

Watching the show alongside such an enthusiastic audience, I laughed freely and had a genuinely great time. My neighbors treated the evening like a party, reacting and talking throughout, and for this particular show it felt right. It was like watching a movie with friends rather than sitting through a traditional theater performance—an unusual experience for me, but a memorable one. One of them even asked me to recommend another show, and without a blink I said Chess.