Brian Scott Lipton — Theater Critic

If truly dark musicals are not your taste, I’d suggesting staying away from “Swept Away.” Others are urged to come sail away on this often-remarkable journey.

Others may see trees of green and red roses too as the show ends. What I see is that “A Wonderful World” is a story that might have been best served by one single vision.

Gold has shrunk most of the Circle’s playing space into a literal black circle in the center of the floor, designed by the ever-clever collective dots, and which contains one extraordinary surprise – almost as big as the care he brings into creating a truly effective “Romeo & Juliet.”

What bothers me more is not understanding why Ephron would dilute what could be a truly inspiring tale of senior citizens stepping out of their respective comfort zones to take a chance at happiness? As it stands, “Left on Tenth” feels like watching a rom-com with two extremely good-looking middle-aged people.

And these two stars do, to quote the script, have faces. And voices. And presence. A singer of phenomenal power and range, Scherzinger hits and holds the notes written by Andrew Lloyd Webber in a way that can induce gasps (not to mention two mid-show standing ovations at my performance). Better yet, she also brings an incredible intentionality to the song’s lyrics (by Christopher Hampton and Don Black) as if she’s thought for years about the meaning of every single word that comes out of her mouth, especially in her showstoppers “With One Look” and “As If We Never Said Goodbye.”

Most importantly even if we might actually hate her on some level for admitting that she only stays in “posh hotels” now, sleeps with two mattress toppers, and is severely uncomfortable with her current level of fame and wealth (of course, your level of pettiness may vary), one really has to cheer Gadsby for achieving the ability – wanted or not – to live the proverbial dog’s life.

While this dysfunctional family drama slides by surprisingly smoothly over its 2 ¾ hours running time, thanks to his colorful writing, the superb work of an ensemble cast, and the seamless direction of the great Sam Mendes, it’s only on your train or taxi ride home that it will hit you just how overlong, overpopulated and undernourished the work really is. It’s ultimately little more than a worthy imitation of something Tennessee Williams or Edward Albee might have written in their prime, and not a play as sui generis as Butterworth’s “The Ferryman” or “Jerusalem.”

Directed with his usual finesse by Jack O’ Brien and beautifully designed by Bob Crowley (who has created a spacious, airy Midwest farmhouse) and lit gorgeously by Natasha Katz, the play serves mostly as a showcase for the spectacular Mia Farrow (in a long-awaited return to the stage) and her real-life bestie, Patti LuPone, each of whom do their considerable best to both illuminate and overcome Silverman’s often facile writing.

Anyone else ready to settle in at the Atlantic Theater Company Stage 2 for an evening of dystopian gloom and doom? Well, if that’s your thing, you’re about to be disappointed by Shayan Lofti’s touching 75-minute two-hander, seemingly set in a peaceful here and now, detailing the differing lives yet ultimately unbreakable bond between two siblings. Simply yet smartly directed by Jennifer Chang, this poetic work speaks to all of us who have had to navigate complicated familial relationships.

The idea of home – as a safe place that one desperately wants to return to – is a powerful concept all-too-present currently on the New York stage, from “The Wiz” to “Breaking the Story.” But nowhere does it feel like a more potent destination than in the late Samm-Art Williams’ powerful, picaresque, poetic -- and aptly named --“Home,” now being given a splendid Broadway revival by the brilliant director Kenny Leon at the Roundabout Theatre Company’s recently rechristened Todd Haimes Theatre.

The biggest issue with the play, however, is how hard Winters tries to make the lovers’ class distinction a major issue, but their different economic statuses is not really the thing that comes between them. Nor are their mothers. Alfonso, a successful data scientist, ultimately has trouble seeing a future with the unambitious Lucy, who can’t even commit to touring a community college for one afternoon. One wishes this subject was explored more – and resolved far less easily -- than it is. Still, original works that can make audiences laugh – and even cry – are a rarer commodity in theater than they should be these days. So, I’ll take “All of Me.” You should too!

These errors in judgment are also indicative of who “Gatsby” will work for – and who they won’t. Simply put, if you treasure the novel, don’t come to the theatre. If you’ve never read it (or don’t remember it), you’ll probably be fine. Ultimately, the essence of the story– especially its messages on class differences and moral failings -- are mostly absent from Kait Kerrigan’s book, which mistakes Fitzgerald’s story for a standard romance novel. And when she keeps in a few lines of Fitzgerald’s actual prose (spoken by Nick), you become even more aware of Kerrigan’s modern sensibility.

Under Anne Kaufmann’s straightforward direction, and aided by Brenda Abbandandolo’s simple but effective costuming, four excellent actresses -- April Matthis, Susan Pourfar, Lily Santiago, and Brenda Wehle -- handle all the supporting parts with true aplomb, creating distinct characterizations in mere minutes. (Pourfar and Wehle also appeared in the play’s 2016 Off-Broadway debut at New York Theatre Workshop.)

I’d be a bit more forgiving of this production if it was part of some free summer festival rather than the big Spring offering from one of our finest institutional theaters. But I wasn’t sorry I saw it, and I imagine you won’t be either.

As with his recent Broadway success, “Gutenberg!,” director Gordon Greenberg takes his job seriously, keeping the show moving as a fleet pace. Better still, he also never makes the show too serious, ensuring that its tongue remains firmly planted in one cheek or another almost the whole time.

Being able to brilliantly straddle the line between (semi)autobiography and a universal coming-of-age tale is just one of the many achievements of the vibrantly exciting new musical, “Hell’s Kitchen,” now at the Shubert Theatre. Expect a lot of Tony Award nominations – and perhaps even a statuette or two – for this extremely accomplished, feel-good musical!

As a book writer, though, Taub can get a little too preachy and sanctimonious (much like Paul). Moreover, since the story is a bit A-to-B – and we already know how it ends – the piece could use some extra drama, especially in letting us know a bit more about the characters’ personal lives. And the piece still could use just a bit of judicious editing.

Sadly, don’t expect to hear the same kind of exuberance for director Schele Williams’ current production of “The Wiz” at the Marquis Theatre – at least from me. Yes, the show remains a crowd-pleaser, with its catchy Charlie Smalls songs (I’m still humming “Ease on Down the Road”) and clever-enough, fairly faithful book by William F. Brown (here punched up with some contemporary jokes by Amber Ruffin) to keep us entertained for 2 ½ hours. Still Broadway audiences deserve something far better than this middling national-tour production that has been dropped into the Marquis for a limited run the same way Dorothy’s house was dropped into Oz after a tornado. True, no fatality occurs, just a sadly missed opportunity to introduce the show to new audiences (as well as delight older ones) with a first-rate reimagining of this beloved material.

Yet, under Rachel Chavkin’s surprisingly frazzled direction, the show, now at the Longacre Theatre, often feels like you’re watching someone put together a misguided collage – one that often incorporates elements of other stronger musicals, most notably “Cabaret” -- as it struggles to decide what story it wants to tell us and what message we’re supposed to take ith us as we leave the theatre. Women can do anything? Women never get the same credit as men? Women are brilliant? Art isn’t easy? You tell me?

While an immediate ticket to this sure-to-be-hit may be hard to come by, don’t let yourself stay an outsider. This show is worth coming into a theater!

Taking his second stab at this seminal if tricky material, director Des McAnuff (who won the Tony Award for his first attempt in 1993) has wisely hired some of theater’s smartest wizards (including scenic designer David Korins, projection director Peter Negrini, lighting designer Amanda Zieve and sound designer Gareth Owens) to give the show its unusual look, full of both realistic sets and technological visuals that delight the eye throughout the two-hour, two-act show.

It’s all quite entertaining, but also a bit vexing, since these activities keep getting in the way of the show’s main plot. But eventually you realize that there’s not of lot a plot here, nor is it all that original (even if Sara Gruen’s 2006 novel which forms the basis for the musical, was a number one best seller, and the show’s book is by three-time Tony Award nominee Rick Elice). In fact, all the diversions simply add up to a major cause of coitus interruptus.

Outrageously funny. Outrageously smart. Outrageously tuneful. Simply outrageous. All these descriptions fit “Teeth,” which should hopefully keep making its mark on New York’s theatrical scene long past whenever it closes at its current home, Playwrights Horizons. While “Teeth” is sometimes raunchy, frequently foul-mouthed, and a tad bit gory (in movie terms, it’s a definite R), it’s still the best new musical I’ve seen all year.

As jokes land and jokes sink, there’s still the joy of hearing many of Dion’s greatest hits, a cavalcade of top-tier pop. As with “Mamma Mia!” and other jukebox musicals, if you take time to think beforehand where these songs will fit, you can probably guess the placements of such earworms as “Taking Chances,” “Tell Him,” “Because You Loved Me,” “I Drove All Night,” “The Prayer,” and “To Love You More.” And if you love these songs, it doesn’t really matter where they end up – just that they’re enthusiastically and often superbly sung!

Indeed, the result of “All the Devils Are Here” can be summarized by the reaction of my companion for the evening, a self-admitted non-Shakespeare lover who now wants to see Page flex his acting muscles (and, probably, his actual muscles) in a full production of one of the Bard’s works. I’m not sure I can think of any better compliment – or audience reaction -- than this one.