Stephen Sondheim didn't like talking about himself. He was notoriously prickly about "meaning" and preferred to talk about the mechanics of a rhyme or the specific architecture of a chord progression. Yet, somehow, James Lapine managed to peel back the curtain. The result was the six by sondheim documentary, an HBO masterpiece that feels less like a dusty biography and more like a masterclass in how to actually make something that matters.
It’s messy. It’s brilliant.
Most documentaries about legendary figures follow a predictable "cradle to grave" trajectory. They interview a bunch of talking heads who say the subject was a genius, play some grainy footage, and roll the credits. Lapine, who collaborated with Sondheim on Into the Woods and Sunday in the Park with George, knew better. He knew that to understand the man, you had to understand the work—not just the finished product, but the agonizing, iterative process of pulling a song out of thin air.
The Six Songs That Define a Legend
The film centers on six specific songs: "Something's Coming," "Opening Doors," "Send in the Clowns," "I'm Still Here," "Being Alive," and "Sunday."
Why these six? Honestly, it’s because they represent different pivot points in his career and his psyche. Take "Opening Doors" from Merrily We Roll Along. It’s probably the most autobiographical thing he ever wrote, depicting three young friends trying to make it in New York. In the six by sondheim documentary, we see new footage directed by Lapine himself, featuring Jeremy Jordan and Darren Criss, which breathes fresh life into a song about the frantic, caffeinated energy of youth.
Then you have "Send in the Clowns." Most people know it as a cheesy cabaret standard. Sondheim explains it was written in a night for a specific actress—Glynis Johns—who couldn't hold long notes. He wrote it with short breaths because that’s what the performer needed. That’s the "expert" insight most people miss. Art isn't just about inspiration; it's about constraints.
It Isn't a Eulogy—It's a Conversation
Sondheim’s voice carries the narrative. The film uses decades of archival interviews, spanning from his early days as a wunderkind to his later years as the "God of Musical Theater." You see him aging in real-time, his hair graying, his voice deepening, but his sharp, analytical mind staying exactly the same. He’s often holding a drink or a cigarette in the older clips, looking slightly annoyed that he has to explain himself.
It's fascinating.
The documentary doesn't shy away from his failures, either. Merrily We Roll Along was a legendary flop that nearly drove him out of the theater entirely. Hearing him talk about that period is gut-wrenching. He speaks with a bluntness that you don't see in modern PR-trained celebrities. If a show didn't work, he knew it. He felt it.
The Secret Ingredient: Lapine’s Direction
James Lapine’s touch is everywhere. Because they were friends, there’s a level of intimacy here that a standard documentarian couldn't achieve. Lapine uses "interstices"—little staged moments and creative reimagining of the songs—to bridge the archival gaps.
For "I'm Still Here," he has Jarvis Cocker (of Pulp fame) perform the song. It’s a weird choice on paper. A British Britpop star singing a song written for a middle-aged female powerhouse? But it works. It proves the universality of Sondheim’s lyrics. The song is about survival, grit, and the sheer exhaustion of staying relevant in a world that wants to move on.
What Most People Get Wrong About Sondheim
There’s a common misconception that Sondheim is "cold" or "too intellectual." The six by sondheim documentary effectively guts that argument.
When you watch the segment on "Being Alive" from Company, you see the raw emotional labor that went into finding the right ending for that show. The song didn't just appear; it was the fifth or sixth attempt at a finale. It’s a song about the terror and necessity of human connection. If that’s "cold," then I don't know what "warm" is supposed to look like.
He reveals in the film that he learned more about life from Oscar Hammerstein II—the man who wrote Oklahoma! and basically raised him—than he did from his own parents. That relationship is the emotional backbone of the documentary. It’s a story about mentorship and the terrifying responsibility of passing the torch.
Technical Brilliance and "Sunday"
The climax of the film deals with "Sunday" from Sunday in the Park with George. If you aren't moved by the description of how he built that harmony, you might be a robot. He talks about the painting (A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte) and how he wanted to create a "shimmer" in the music to match Seurat’s pointillism.
It’s meta.
A documentary about an artist making art about an artist making art.
The film uses a beautiful montage of different productions of "Sunday," showing how the song has lived on long after its 1984 debut. It’s the ultimate proof of his genius: he took a static painting and made it move.
Why You Should Watch It Now
Even years after its release, and following Sondheim's passing in 2021, this film remains the definitive text. It’s not just for theater nerds. It’s for anyone who has ever tried to write a poem, code a program, or build a business.
It teaches you that:
- Art is work.
- Rhyme is a map.
- Failure is just data.
Sondheim’s legacy isn't just his awards or his hit shows. It’s his insistence that we look closer at the world. The six by sondheim documentary captures that ethos perfectly. It doesn't sugarcoat the man, and it doesn't simplify the music.
Actionable Steps for the Aspiring Creative
If you’ve watched the documentary and feel inspired (or intimidated), here is how to apply "Sondheim Logic" to your own life:
- Embrace the Constraint. Like "Send in the Clowns," stop complaining about what you lack. Use your limitations as the blueprint for your design. If you have no budget, make that the "aesthetic."
- Kill Your Darlings. Sondheim threw out entire scores when they didn't fit the characters. If a piece of your work is beautiful but doesn't serve the "story" or the "goal," it has to go.
- Find Your Hammerstein. You cannot create in a vacuum. Find someone who knows more than you do and listen to them, even when it hurts your ego.
- Focus on the "Opening Doors." Success is rarely a straight line. It’s a series of "opening doors" and seeing what’s on the other side. Don’t wait for the perfect moment; just get in the room.
To truly appreciate the documentary, don't just watch it once. Watch it, then go listen to the original cast recordings of the six songs mentioned. Notice the internal rhymes. Notice how the music changes when the character’s mind changes. That is the essence of Sondheim. He didn't write songs; he wrote thoughts.
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The film is currently available on various streaming platforms, primarily HBO Max (now Max). It’s 86 minutes long. That’s less time than a standard movie, but you’ll come away feeling like you’ve just finished a four-year degree in creative writing. Don’t skip the credits; the music keeps telling the story until the screen goes black.
Explore the discography. Read Finishing the Hat. Understand that the work is never really done; it’s just surrendered. That’s the real takeaway from the life of Stephen Sondheim. Every "Sunday" leads to a "Monday," and the process starts all over again. Be glad he shared his process with us. It’s the greatest gift a prickly genius could ever give.