Caroline Cao — Theater Critic

The semi-autobiographical Yellow Face might have stuffiness in its smart script, but Leigh Silverman’s Broadway staging unearths thoughtful questions about casting politics and Chinese American identity.

Maybe it’s not my cocktail. I say this as someone who enjoys parodies, but Merrily We Stole a Song veers into self-congratulatory smugness. It's not that I don’t disagree with its comments on the crisis of Broadway biz leaning on cushy nostalgia and high prices (criticism that isn’t new), but these complaints, seemingly lifted from theatre Twitter, can only roll out so long as lyrics before they dry out.

The play's willingness to tackle knotty contradictions feels necessary, but then these explorations don't mesh with the closing imagery, which frames Marina — inadvertently — as a symbol for war correspondents. The rapid transition between the story of a fictional, white, female journalist and the post-show memorial honoring fallen war correspondents (bearing a diversity of names) lands as a miscalculation.

I send compliments to the head chef: Morgan Green, the director of Abe Koogler’s Staff Meal at Playwrights Horizons. If you're the kind of open-minded patron who might crack a smile to the chef and say 'surprise me,' Staff Meal delivers. The play ushers audiences into a cozy restaurant space where two lovers meet and then takes us across unknown dimensions. This surreal adventure is like a Rorschach test: Whatever you make of it, its meaning is specific to you.

All in all, this Great Gatsby shies away from making us think hard of the blood spilled due to Gatsby’s dealings, which are relegated to lines of dialogue and the campy song “Shady.” Something about the production feels too spic and span by the time it ends: Missing is a mess left behind by the Roaring Twenties excess. I felt the warmth in The Great Gatsby, but it was begging to bring on the heat.

Undeniably, a real-world sequel to Russian Troll Farm is playing out in real time. Consider the fascism that runs rampant on Twitter after billionaire Elon Musk’s takeover, while Russia wages its disinformation war alongside its military assault on Ukraine. It’s an uncomfortable thought that Gancher might find material there.

From a musical standpoint, actor Max Crumm (as a Scrabble champ) knocks out the song 'Success' just as actor Fergie Philippe (as a hooded whistleblower) seizes his showstopper, “Wind in the Sails.” The show also boasts an intoxicating prayer number, which highlights the violinist Todd Reynolds as well as the thought-provoking link between stories and faith. In an intermission-free 105 minutes, these numbers – career gold for Brown – overcome the sleepiness in the musical’s first hour, when the Ethan/Robin dynamic almost stales.

In its current incarnation, surface-level sentimentality prevents White Rose from plunging more deeply into the complexity of its story and characters. The sacred act of tossing leaflets to the audience should hit as a cathartic feat, yet it feels decorative. If you're a lucky audience member who catches a leaflet - inscribed with anti-war excerpts from the real White Rose - its call to action is urgent. These words are meant to be taken outside of the theatre, even after the action on the stage fades.

Yet, this idealistic sunbeam is eclipsed by the finale of noise, gesturing toward grander world affairs that threaten to crumble down their insular comforts. Even though few, like Marianne, may emerge slightly different than before, their epiphanies may get swallowed by the world. This is a show about a bourgeoisie bubble that — for now — can afford distractions and sweep aside the questions some other time. Here they are, re-seeking pleasures, with their grins and anticipation melting like wax from the candle. Although 'Here We Are' leaves you hungry for completion, it's a slow-crawling nightmare that plink-pla-plink in your consciousness long after you leave the theatre.

As they become younger, Frank, Charley, and Mary de-age into starry-eyed dreamers who swear to keep their flames lit forever. But roads bend and dreams will shapeshift over the years due to realities and unheeded follies. A good production of 'Merrily We Roll Along' ensures that the stargazing 'Our Time' finale packs that wallop. Embracing its newly acquired Broadway scope, the musical concludes with stars blazing upon the ceiling of the Hudson Theatre. Only by reflecting upon the old times can Frank see those stars again.

The musical is good at pointing and saying, 'Look, something shiny or cool!' So if the musical dips into an underwhelming song or misfires a gag (like Marty brandishing a lightsaber in an attempt to substitute an inadaptable film quote), the production's hyperactivity and spectacle can draw you back in. Props sizzle with pyrotechnics and Finn Ross's video designs zip like '2001: Space Odyssey' stargating. Not least of all, the clocktower climax glides like cinematic crosscutting thanks to the coordinated projection and sets.