Why Broadway Turned Away from “The Queen of Versailles”
Kristin Chenoweth and the Company of “The Queen of Versailles.” (Julieta Cervantes)
by Chris Peterson
There’s been a lot of talk about why The Queen of Versailles is closing on Broadway so quickly, especially because on paper it didn’t look like a disaster. The grosses were fine. The audiences looked solid. Kristin Chenoweth was giving the kind of committed, big-hearted performance that only she can give.
From the outside, it felt like the show had settled itself into that comfortable middle lane where a production can usually hang on for a while. And yet here we are, watching it pack up long before anyone expected.
The real story is that “selling decently” just isn’t a safe place to land anymore. A million-dollar week used to mean something. These days it might mean the show is barely treading water.
When your production costs more than $20 million to mount, “decent” stops being a compliment and starts being a warning sign. Shows like this need heat. They need that electric word of mouth that gets people booking tickets before they’ve even unpacked their suitcases. They need reviews that feel like invitations.
This show didn’t get that. And in a landscape where every week is make-or-break, waiting around for momentum simply isn’t an option.
The reviews didn’t help either. They weren’t scathing, but they weren’t clear. Critics didn’t seem to know what movie they were watching, let alone which musical they were seeing. Some walked in expecting satire. Some expected a deep dive. What they got was something in between, a show that flickered between tones without fully committing to either.
Broadway audiences are generous, but they’re also intuitive. If they can’t tell what the show wants them to feel, they keep a little distance. And once that distance exists, it’s incredibly hard to bridge.
And then there’s the uncomfortable truth that everyone sort of circles but rarely says out loud. Broadway audiences want to feel good about the people they’re spending their night with.
The Siegels may be fascinating, but they are also incredibly wealthy, incredibly polarizing, and deeply tied to this MAGA era bravado that a lot of people are simply tired of revisiting. It’s not about politics. It’s about energy. It’s about mood. It’s about the simple reality that some theatergoers don’t want to drop two hundred dollars to emotionally invest in people they wouldn’t choose to have dinner with. That’s human, not partisan.
And behind all of this is the part that really stings. When a show closes, it’s not just a headline. It’s people. It’s the actors who finally found their rhythm in the role. The dressers and stagehands who make the magic happen silently every night. The musicians who built the heartbeat of the score. The stage managers who keep the whole world moving on cue. These are jobs disappearing right after the holidays, when everyone is already stretched thin and trying to get through winter.
So when you put all of that together — the cost, the reviews, the tricky subject matter, the post-pandemic economy — the early closing makes a little more sense, even if it doesn’t feel great. The show sold decently, yes.
But Broadway rarely rewards decent. It rewards undeniable. It rewards momentum and clarity and the kind of storytelling that grabs you by the collar. The Queen of Versailles, for all its ambition and shine, never quite got there.