Brent Lang — Theater Critic

*CRITIC'S PICK* Written by David Lindsay-Abaire with a keen understanding of human nature and directed by Kenny Leon with a master’s skill for building onstage drama to a fever pitch, “The Balusters,” which debuts tonight at Manhattan Theatre Club, may be the most vital and timely show on Broadway this season. It’s definitely the funniest.

If only the 90 minutes that preceded that killer capper had more fizz to them. O’Hara and Byrne may be bleeding for every laugh, but you can’t ignore the fact that “Fallen Angels” is one of Coward’s lesser works. The play proves that even in his twenties, he was already perfecting his transgressive wit.

Gionfriddo, a Pulitzer Prize finalist for “Becky Shaw” and “Rapture, Blister, Burn,” is a master of dialogue. Her characters, particularly Max and the Slaters, live to fight; tearing each other apart is, in its own warped way, a form of affection. And it helps that both Emond (one of the best enunciators in the theater) and Ehrenreich are so verbally dexterous. Credit to director Trip Cullman for staging the show to highlight their jousting — at times “Becky Shaw” feels like “The Birdcage” by way of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”