Toni Collette Leads A WILD Party on Broadway

The story behind these duelling musicals is almost as riveting as the show itself. Both adaptations draw from the same source material: a 1928 poem by Joseph Moncure March, an American writer whose gritty verses about a booze-fuelled night in the 1920s proved to be surprisingly stage-friendly. Those lines throb with the jazz-age mania and sexual tension of vaudeville performers Queenie and Burrs, a couple whose house party spirals into a chaotic, and ultimately tragic, blowout. For fans of boundary-pushing theatre, seeing these characters come alive on stage is like reliving the era of flappers and bathtub gin, all wrapped in a lurid veil of suspense.

In the 1999-2000 season, two creative teams decided to bring this moody narrative to musical life—each in its own singular style. Off-Broadway, composer-lyricist Andrew Lippa mounted his version via Manhattan Theatre Club, featuring an ensemble that boasted the likes of Taye Diggs, Idina Menzel, and Julia Murney. Across town on the Great White Way, composer-lyricist Michael John LaChiusa and director George C. Wolfe unveiled their adaptation of the poem, with an altogether different cast and a distinctively jazzier, art song-inflected score. Both musicals shared the same title—THE WILD PARTY—prompting theatre fans to do the unthinkable: pick a side. But in truth, each production has charted its own path, forging separate legacies.

The Scandalous Soirée

If you’re wondering why, decades later, people still talk about these musicals in the same breath, the answer is twofold: star power and craft. For LaChiusa and Wolfe’s Broadway iteration, star quality practically spilled off the marquee. The production opened at Broadway’s Virginia Theatre—these days, you’ll find CABARET calling that venue home, now known as the August Wilson Theatre—and it arrived with a top-tier cast. Toni Collette, an Australian screen icon fresh off acclaimed film work, made her Broadway debut as Queenie, filling a role originally intended for Vanessa Williams (who had to bow out because of a pregnancy). Opposite Collette, Mandy Patinkin portrayed Burrs, bringing his signature intensity to a man whose violent temper triggers the fateful events of the evening.

If those two names alone aren’t enough to reel you in, consider the legendary Eartha Kitt, who lent her smoky vocals and feline grace to the production as well. Add in performers like Yancey Arias, Marc Kudisch, Tonya Pinkins, Norm Lewis, and Nathan Lee Graham, and you have a line-up that theatre buffs still wax nostalgic about. The mix of star wattage and a daring storyline resulted in a show that ignited conversation, even if its run turned out to be relatively short—68 performances, to be exact.

Critically, the musical didn’t become a runaway smash, but it garnered seven 2000 Tony Award nominations, including one for Best Musical, and it earned Toni Collette her own Tony nod for Best Actress in a Musical. Data from ticket sales around that time suggest that star-driven Broadway musicals, especially those featuring celebrities from film, often enjoy an initial box-office spike. Indeed, while the show didn’t last long, its boldness, combined with Collette’s luminous presence, left an enduring impression on fans who craved something gritty and provocative amid the glitz of Times Square.

The Allure of a Decadent Jazz Age

Part of THE WILD PARTY’s magic stems from its 1920s setting, a time so frequently romanticised that many productions never quite capture its more menacing undertones. But in the poem, and consequently in LaChiusa’s adaptation, that sense of creeping darkness runs through the boozy revels. The main couple, Queenie and Burrs, are vaudevillians—entertainers well-versed in showmanship, but also somewhat trapped by the roles they’re forced to play, both on and off the stage. The party they host is an attempt at distraction, after a violent altercation nearly shatters their relationship. It’s an adrenaline-fuelled scenario that inevitably draws a carnival of misfits into their cramped apartment: a lesbian stripper, a prize fighter, and a host of other flamboyant oddballs, all of whom carry their own hidden desires.

In discussing the show, Michael John LaChiusa has noted how it explores the masks people wear and how those masks gradually peel away. Anyone who’s attended a late-night gathering can attest to the heady mixture of euphoria and vulnerability that surfaces after too many rounds of liquor. By the time the final tragedy unfolds—sufficiently foreshadowed in the opening moments—each character has laid bare a little more of their soul than they ever intended. There’s an almost surreal undercurrent, too, hinting that this fiasco is as much an emblem of the Jazz Age’s unhinged excess as it is a cautionary tale of personal and moral decline.

The Rival Shows’ Parallel Lives

The 1999-2000 theatre season in New York is one of the best examples of unexpected synchronicity in the performing arts. Both versions of THE WILD PARTY are adapted from the same poem, yet they differ radically in musical style, character focus, and even tone. Andrew Lippa’s Off-Broadway production leans closer to contemporary musical theatre, with a punchy, pop-inspired flair. In contrast, LaChiusa’s score flirts with period-specific jazz motifs, as well as intricate rhythms that evoke the tumultuous energy of the poem’s setting. Attending one show, you’d witness modern riffs and brash harmonies that feel distinctly 21st-century; at the other, you’d be enveloped in a swirl of brass that conjures up speakeasies and big-band mania.

This simultaneous adaptation phenomenon left many theatre fans torn. People wondered: “Which version is the ‘definitive’ one?” or “Is it sacrilegious to love both?” The ongoing conversation reveals something intriguing about theatre culture: multiple adaptations of the same source can co-exist, each offering a distinct lens on an iconic text. To this day, no single interpretation has eclipsed the other. In fact, New York City Center Encores! is planning a revival of LaChiusa’s show in 2026, while Lippa’s had its own Off-Center revival back in 2015. Clearly, there’s space on the stage for both bashes.

Toni Collette’s Bold Move

The casting of Toni Collette in the role of Queenie is a detail often overshadowed by the broader “two Wild Parties” conversation, but it’s worth focusing on. At the time, Collette was primarily recognised for her film work, notably Muriel’s Wedding and The Sixth Sense. Stepping into a Broadway musical—especially one as intense and provocative as THE WILD PARTY—was a daring pivot. She not only held her own on that stage but earned a Tony Award nomination for her trouble, proving that her dramatic chops and capacity for transformation translated seamlessly from screen to live performance.

This aspect of the show also points to a broader trend: celebrities stepping onto Broadway can be a gamble for producers and audiences alike. Will they manage the stamina required for eight shows a week? Will they be overshadowed by the stage veterans around them? In Collette’s case, the gamble paid off. Her performance as the impulsive, conflicted Queenie added a certain Australian edge to the 1920s New York debauchery—an outsider’s perspective that, in its own quiet way, highlighted the strangeness of the party’s decadent rituals.

What it Means For Broadway Then—And Now

Musicals that push boundaries often face an uphill climb, and THE WILD PARTY was no exception. Opening in April 2000, the production closed in June after 68 performances, possibly struggling to captivate the mainstream audience that typically flocks to more family-friendly shows. Yet its brief run hasn’t prevented it from achieving a kind of cult status. Theatre aficionados speak of its intense staging, the moody orchestrations, and the sheer electricity of a cast that included icons like Eartha Kitt.

Moreover, the critical reception—though mixed—zeroed in on the show’s ambition. Sometimes a musical that dares to explore the darker corners of human experience finds itself overshadowed by more easily palatable fare. But in the years since, many have come to appreciate LaChiusa’s unflinching approach. If box-office tallies were the only measure of success, half the musicals revered by critics and fans today would never have been declared hits. Instead, THE WILD PARTY stands as a testament to Broadway’s willingness to experiment, even if commercial success isn’t guaranteed.

A Lasting Legacy and a Future Encounter

It’s not every day that a poem from 1928 spawns two musicals in the same city at the same time. That extraordinary twist of fate speaks to the universality of Joseph Moncure March’s gritty verse. He captured something timeless in those lines about reckless hedonism, jealousy, and betrayal—a primal energy that resonates no matter how many decades pass. In both versions of the show, that energy is harnessed to different ends, but remains undeniably potent.

And the story doesn’t seem to be over. Encores! has announced a 2026 revival of the LaChiusa version. Who knows—maybe a new generation of theatre-goers will find themselves enamoured of Queenie’s dark yearnings and Burrs’ menacing charm, discovering the show’s ferocity for the first time. And perhaps they’ll see a cast just as starry, just as fearless, in a production that dares to hold a mirror to our own indulgences and the monstrous side of merriment.

For now, theatre lovers can reflect on this moment in history when a fledgling star from Australia took on the role of a lifetime, singing music that oozed with jazz-age tension, flanked by giants of the stage. That’s the beauty of live performance: its ephemeral nature means a show may fade from the daily hype, but it can re-emerge with renewed relevance, continuing the conversation about art, risk, and the tantalising dark corners of human desire.

So the next time you’re strolling down the theatre district, recall that steamy summer evening of mine—the hush in the street, the faint music, the promise of a show that dared to push boundaries. Because if THE WILD PARTY reminds us of anything, it’s this: sometimes, the most unforgettable nights are the ones that threaten to go up in flames—and we can’t help but crowd closer, entranced by the glow.

And that, dear reader, is what we crave from live theatre: the possibility that at any moment, everything could boil over—and we’ll be left in breathless awe, grateful we dared to witness the fireworks before the curtain falls.