In the upcoming Broadway musical Queen of Versailles, Kristin Chenoweth and F. Murray Abraham share a slow dance. The two play husband and wife. And during the tryout in Boston, many nights during that moment, Abraham would whisper in his co-star’s ear (low enough so the audience couldn’t pick it up), “I adore you.” Exclaims Abraham: “I can’t help it! I have made movies with some pretty astounding women. I played Sophia Loren's husband. I played Meryl Streep's husband in a reading of the play Genius...And I have one word that encapsulates the feeling I had for all those women. It’s the same for this woman.” He puts his arm around Chenoweth. “I adore her. Absolutely adore her.”

Adds Chenoweth, looking at him with a wide smile, “One night he didn’t do it, and I was like, he doesn’t love me anymore!” In fact, when she first imagined which actor should play her husband in Queen of Versailles, Abraham was the first name in her mind. Thinking he would never say yes, she didn’t even say his name out loud.

“We’ve had some wonderful actors play [my husband] in the workshops,” recalls Chenoweth. Then late one night, while she was in Nashville, Chenoweth got a call from the musical’s director, Michael Arden. What did she think of F. Murray Abraham? “I woke straight up out of my stupor, and I said, ‘Do not pass go. Do not go to the store. Do not call your agent. Get him now!’”

Together, the two legendary actors—one a Tony winner, the other an Oscar winner—make a formidable pair. They have to be because they’re playing some larger-than-life (yet completely real) characters in Queen of Versailles, beginning performances at the St. James Theatre October 8 (it opens November 9). The new musical by Stephen Schwartz and Lindsey Ferrentino is based on the real life of socialite Jacqueline Siegel and her billionaire husband David Siegel (of Westgate Resorts). Back in the late aughts, the Siegels had amassed so much money through real estate that they decided to build an opulent 90,000-square-foot mansion in Florida. Then the 2008 financial crisis hit. David’s business saw a sharp downturn, and he was left holding on to real estate that was depreciating in value. Their financial challenges were documented in the 2012 documentary Queen of Versailles.

Though she is not a billionaire, when the musical’s team reached out to her in 2021 about playing Jackie, Chenoweth found herself drawn to the project. The story reminded Chenoweth of her own family's story, of how her father Jerry Morris Chenoweth, an engineer, worked hard to build up his business, only to see it tumble down. "The summer before my senior year, he lost it all," she recalls, pensive. "The story is, in some ways, very personal to me. I've seen my dad build his life back up, not to even close to where it was—I had it all, and then I had nothing. And I tell you what, being poor stinks, and being wealthy has its own challenges."

The character of Jackie, with her (as the show states) “champagne wishes and caviar dreams” may suggest another bubbly blonde that Chenoweth played: Glinda in Wicked. But there’s an emotional depth to Jackie that allows Chenoweth to showcase a new side of herself, a darker side. Because while there are highs to the Siegels’ life, there are also lows—such as when the show dramatizes Jackie’s daughter, Victoria, dying of a drug overdose in their home.

As Chenoweth puts it: “My acting teacher in college used to always say to me, ‘You have a lot of stuff in you that you haven’t tapped into.’ And he broke me down. Because I was always doing comedy, and I was like, ‘I’m never going to be given that opportunity [to do drama].’ He goes, ‘Well, comedy is tragedy sped up.’ And he’s right. So now, I'm not playing a girl from Oz, I'm not playing a girl from a cartoon, I'm not playing a girl in a pie shop. I'm playing a real life [person]—this isn't a fantasy."

Says Abraham, kindly, “No one ever talks about your acting. I don’t know why. You are a wonderful actor.” Responds Chenoweth, touched. “Thank you.” The two have become fast friends during this process; after Abraham's wife, Kate Hannan, died two years ago, Chenoweth introduced him to his current paramour (he declined to give her name).

For Abraham, who is used to playing big personalities (he did win an Oscar for playing Salieri in Amadeus after all), what drew him to Queen of Versailles was that the characters resembled those in a Greek tragedy. “I played the Greeks, and I love it because of the size,” he says of his theatre career. “It’s not a kitchen sink [drama]. It’s huge. It’s enormous. It’s earth-shaking every moment. That’s the seduction, to play someone that big.” He then adds, with Chenoweth nodding next to him, “And we met them. They’re alive. They’re human beings. They’re flesh and blood. She’s not ashamed at all or embarrassed about anything, 'This is who I am baby.' And he’s the same way.”

Despite the opulent marketing of pink and gold, both Chenoweth and Abraham say Queen of Versailles isn't a glorification of wealth—especially not in this economy. Instead, it's an exploration of what extreme wealth does to a person, and how not even the wealthy feel like they have enough. Says Abraham: "My character says that very simply: He came from nothing, and he refuses to forget where he came from. He's very grounded, and he also is fearful of losing it."

Adds Chenoweth: "What are you going to do with all that wealth? I would love to think that if I was a billionaire, I would love to imagine that I would give a lot of it away. There's a recurring thing: When is it enough? When is it enough? How do we know when it's enough?"

David Siegel died in April, but Jackie has been a supporter of the musical—she even gifted Chenoweth one of her dresses. Though it’s intimidating to play Jackie in front of the real Jackie, Chenoweth is determined to not sand down any edges.

“I have to be authentic to who she was. And I even told her, ‘Jackie, I don’t want you hurt. I really like you, Jackie, but I’m telling your story. And I don't want you to be hurt, because you might be hurt.' I was very honest, and she said, ‘I want you to just do the part,’” says Chenoweth, leaning forward, the picture of determination. “It’s been an interesting journey so far. We haven’t even opened. I can’t wait to see the reaction [from audiences]. It’s such a cautionary tale of the American dream.”

Chenoweth spoke to Playbill for this article September 8, before the death of right-wing commentator Charlie Kirk, and before her response to his death became a flashpoint: How can someone like Chenoweth with such a diverse, liberal fan base empathize with someone like Kirk, who made a career out of denigrating the gay and trans community, as well as women and people of color? The Versailles team didn't provide a comment. But during our interview, Chenoweth was clear that as someone who is "left-leaning" and Christian, she is hungry for a way to bring both political parties together—not to attack, but to talk. And she hopes that as an artist, the Queen of Versailles (a work she is so proud of that she is also a producer on it) can help do that.

"If not us, then who," she says passionately. "We are constantly tearing each other down. We cannot do that anymore. We have to find a way to meet. Or it will be the end. We will just be divided and divided and divided." 

Chenoweth then recalls the tryout for Versailles in Boston, which the team considered a success. And for her, a sign that she was going in the right direction was the after-show conversations: "One of the things I found so fascinating about our show in Boston is: You had my brother who was extremely successful, and on the red side of things. And then he comes to see the show and said, 'This is the best thing I've ever seen.' He doesn't even like musical theatre. And then I have my extreme left friends come and they say, 'This is the best thing I've ever seen.'" She then turns to Abraham, who is nodding and chuckling wryly beside her. "I just think it's interesting that, it's two totally different perspectives. One is saying, 'This is correct, this is right.' And one is saying, 'This is what's wrong with America.' It builds a conversation."

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