Christian Lewis

Alas, the debate of whether ‘Chess’ can be saved or fixed must continue, for this is likely not the best iteration of the material. What Florence sings rings true for ‘Chess’ overall: ‘I’ve still a lot to prove; there must be more I could achieve.’ There’s so much potential, it’s hard not to continually yearn for a version of ‘Chess’ that fully works. Although this ‘Chess’ match may not have produced a new champion, there’s still some thrilling gameplay, especially from Michele and Christopher, who help provide insight into the magic of ‘Chess’ and make this sometimes uneven game still feel entirely worth watching.

Contrary to its title, “Just in Time” is anything but timely, since the window of Darin’s relevancy has long gone. Even Darin himself admits in the show that by 1968 he was “yesterday’s news.” Just in time for what, we might ask? Do we really need a whole musical about a straight white man with a few hit songs in the 60s? For that matter, do we need multiple? This is in fact the second Bobby Darin musical (the other, “Dream Lover,” premiered in Australia in 2016), not to mention the Kevin Spacey-led biopic, “Beyond the Sea” from 2004. Does Bobby Darrin really merit this much attention?

Still, it is easy enough to put aside almost all quibbles about genre tensions or adaptation choices because the production is so joyous and well-executed. Director Scott Ellis keeps things light, bouncy, and maximizes the hilarity. Lindo Cho’s colorful costumes play with period details, and David Rockwell’s sets even include a massive pirate ship. The choreography by Warren Carlyle is sensational, energetic, and whimsical, making inventive use of props including pirouetting parasols, spectacular sabres, and fierce flagging. Many of the big numbers are so enjoyable it makes you immediately want to see the production again. (Thankfully, the show treats us to a few brief encores.)

Despite some scattered strong elements, it’s hard to totally make sense of Floyd Collins or feel that it really works as a whole... There may be treasure hidden deep in the cave that is Floyd Collins, but it may just be too dark and difficult to fully extract it. 

John Proctor Is the Villain” is the best play of the season, but even more significantly, it is a feminist masterpiece sure to become one of the defining works of art from and about the #MeToo era.

Due to all the tweaks, alterations, and differences in performance, some originalists may prefer to just watch the TV show online. But there are some in this world who will always love the magic of live theater and will delight in the sounds of the full orchestra, preferring to hear each belted note and to see each glittering gown and high kick in person. After all this wait, it is undeniably thrilling and deeply enjoyable to experience these beloved songs on stage, and to get some more time with this dramatic band of thespians. So for those fans dying for more Smash content, this musical will absolutely scratch that (more than seven-year) itch; for those uninitiated, this production offers a high-energy, fun musical comedy with a phenomenal score. Either way, it is, in fact, what you’ve been needing.

At its core, then, if the production doesn’t utilize its technology for commentary and is hampered rather than strengthened by its single-actor format, what’s left? The very premise of the production is a gimmick, a way to let an actor show off and dazzle the audience with some tricks. It’s an empty spectacle, though, and it remains unclear what – if anything – the production is trying to say other than that vanity is bad.

“Maybe Happy Ending” is an undeniably moving, well-made, adorable musical, and it is a pleasant surprise to see an audience weep at a show about two robots in love. The musical makes the bold claim that maybe we are not that different from robots after all, or that they are not that different from us. Just as robots have much to learn from humans, we in turn can learn from them, especially how to care for each other and for ourselves. It’s crucial to know when you need to charge your battery, but likewise it’s important to be willing to share that charger with someone in need.

While DRAG: The Musical is a campy, fun time, it also has educational value. Several of the songs teach important lessons, both for long-term fans of drag and for those new to it: drag is expensive, wigs are a key part of drag (the song “Wigs” features an extremely impressive slew of rapid wig changes), drag can be for anyone and can be a way to harness a gender expression you want to play with, explore, embrace, or embody (even if only temporarily onstage), and yet, sometimes we love drag just because, as Alexis and Brendan agree on, “it’s so pretty.”

Peck’s choreography is as marvelous as it is moving. Several dance motifs repeat, a nod to the theme of memory and haunting. Often these are tied to characters, like Carl and Henry’s balance-beam swaggering and swaying, or the side-by-side swing-inspired dance and handshake of Henry, Carl, and Shelby. Peck’s choreography is decidedly modern, but his ballet background informs the work, with long-line leg extensions at classic angles and a flurry of precisely-spotted spins and turns.

For any fan of “The Great Gatsby,” though, it’s likely you’ll have moments of wanting more, of missing out on all the subtext, grit, and suffering beneath the sequins. Right as you have that pang, you’ll probably get distracted by another sweeping set change or production number, and as the opening and closing song playfully depict, the party will just keep rolling on and on and on, so you might as well join in and enjoy the ride.

But the largest fault of the play may be its conventionality. It is without a doubt a well-made play, with clear structure and stakes, tight pacing, funny jokes and concisely rendered characters. But it does not push the envelope in any way — which is a shame, considering that is exactly what Oscar Levant was famous for. Still, Hayes’ performance in “Good Night, Oscar” demands to be seen. Though the play itself may not be memorable, Hayes’ acting feat undoubtedly is.

All this could have come across as a high school English class assignment, but Read manages to make it work. He clearly has respect for and knowledge of the source material but also isn't afraid to highlight just how ridiculous the play really is. (As we are reminded here, Romeo and Juliet only knew each other for four days.) Though he keeps the characters true to the original, there are slight tweaks for modern sensibility, as when Anne brings Juliet's age up from 13 (yikes) to her mid-20s.

The production boasts an all-star cast - Daniel Craig (Macbeth) and Ruth Negga (Lady Macbeth) plus theater favorites Maria Dizzia (Lady Macduff) and Amber Gray (Banquo), to name just a few - but every single actor is in their own play. No one is on the same page stylistically; scene partners barely connect with each other; there is no trace of any unifying dialect. The only piece of direction they all seemed to be given is to stand center stage, unmoving, for every monologue and deliver it to the balconies, chin and eyes up.

Though there may be some imperfect elements, it is hard to have anything but praise for this piece. It is clear that the focus was on Parker and Morse's performances, and they so superbly showcase that this play is a masterpiece. How I Learned to Drive is one of those plays, like Fefu and Her Friends or Cloud Nine, that have been canonized, anthologized, and taught in so many drama classes, but are infrequently produced. I felt blessed and honored to get to see it here in person. In fact, we should all feel fortunate to see Vogel's ingenious play on stage and to see it so beautifully performed by the divine Mary-Louise Parker. This play is a gift, and we are lucky to receive it. I hope this begins a trend of much more Vogel, indeed.

The musical features a talented ensemble led by the powerhouse Joaquina Kalukango (as Nellie, the owner of the tavern where the majority of the action takes place) and the nimble A. J. Shively (as Owen, a masterful dancer Irish immigrant terrified of getting drafted). It is chock-full of impressive dance numbers that pair the percussive rhythmic step dances of the Irish and Black communities. The score is catchy (especially the title song), compelling, and feels period-specific (heavily featuring the fiddle) while appealing to a modern musical theater ear. The highlight of the show is without a doubt 'Let it Burn,' Kalukango's 11 o'clock number, which receives a standing ovation and will be canonized alongside the greats like 'I'm Here,' 'Lot's Wife,' and 'Rose's Turn.'

During the shutdown, there was a great deal of conversation about how Broadway needs to change; Pass Over is the embodiment of that change. It is exactly what Broadway needs to be. If we can follow the lead of this production, Broadway can pass over into something different, something better, something more equitable and diverse, something more political. If Broadway is to survive, it must keep up with the times. Pass Over offers a model of how it can do that. It is an extraordinary beacon, a proof that, in Moses' words, 'dis shit's changin now.'

On the basic level, it is different because this time we get two: two short plays, two different actors, two stories. Together they make a fascinating pairing that is equally captivating and devastating. Although they may not share any direct overlap, both stories explore themes of family, love, fatherhood, death, loss, and grief. They are Greek tragedies for the modern age, full of pathos and heart-wrenching prose.

Overall 'Once on this Island' felt more like a song cycle than a musical. Each song felt similar, with chaotic choreography (by Camille A. Brown), excessive amounts of haze, an over-stressed parallel between Ti Moune, her younger self (Mia Williamson), and the doll version of Ti Moune that her younger self carried around, a loud final note from the pit to punctuate the ending, and a dramatic light cue. After a while it felt more like a concert than a work of fiction.

Ayad Akhtar, Puiltzer Prize-winning playwright of 'Disgraced,' has a new drama, 'Junk,' directed by Doug Hughes at the Vivan Beaumont at Lincoln Center. Sadly, this new play cannot compare to his previous hit, which tackled race and religion with such incredible nuance. In 'Junk,' Akhtar explores the financial world of the 1980s, including an aggressive tackover, insider trading, stock manipulation, million dollar investment portfolios, and of course, controversial junk bonds.