Christopher Kelly

Now comes Forest Whitaker, who in the new revival of Eugene O'Neill's 'Hughie' swallows his words and looks deeply uncomfortable onstage. This is especially problematic given that this one-act play is essentially a monologue delivered by Whitaker's character...for any of this to work, 'Hughie' requires a lead actor who can bring to Erie's mythmaking and self-aggrandizement to life; someone who can show us a man who is both pitiful yet also poignantly noble. That actor is not Whitaker, whose awkwardly staccato delivery and occasional long pauses make you wonder if he's successfully memorized his lines.

What makes the show so enjoyably delirious -- at least when it's staged well -- is the anarchic nature of Frayn's imagination; just when things can't possibly get any worse for the actors onstage, ten more disastrous things happen, usually all at once. The good news is that the new Roundabout Theatre Company revival is directed (by Jeremy Herrin) and performed with tremendous speed, spirit and affection. The actors, especially Megan Hilty (TV's 'Smash), as the bombshell ingenue who needs to mouth the words of her co-stars in order to keep up with the text, and Andrea Martin, as the alternately matriarchal and diva-ish star of 'Nothin On,' are completely attuned to the helium rhythms of Frayn's writing. The brilliantly staged second act, in which the backstage actors attempt to remain silent as chaos erupts onstage, is a tour de force; a ballet of incongruity and incompetence.

Miracle of miracles, indeed: Just when you think you know a classic musical backwards and forwards, along comes director Bartlett Sher to prove otherwise. Just as with his seminal 2008 staging of 'South Pacific' (and his less successful, but still laudable version of 'The King and I' from earlier this year), Sher's take on 'Fiddler on the Roof' feels at once bracingly modern and gloriously old school.

The famous name attached to the revival of the musical version of Alice Walker's 'The Color Purple' is Jennifer Hudson...She is, as might be predicted, not a very commanding stage actress, but her full-bodied singing nonetheless lends power and tenderness...Yet Hudson is not the performer you'll leave this show talking about. This 'Color Purple' instead belongs to the virtually unknown British actress Cynthia Erivo, who as Celie gives one of those galvanizing, star-is-born performances of which Broadway dreams are made. She beautifully captures Celie's 40-year progression, from abused and meek daughter and wife to confident single woman and mother; and she turns musical numbers that might easily be overly cutesy ('Miss Celie's Pants') or schmaltzy ('I'm Here') into punch-in-the-gut anthems of self-discovery. LaChanze won the Tony for originating this role -- Erivo may just make it two-for-two.

Andrew Lloyd Webber's latest effort 'School of Rock: The Musical' will win no prizes for originality. A faithful-bordering-on-slavish adaptation of the 2003 Richard Linklater comedy, this big, noisy musical transposes virtually every scene from the film onto the stage... Lloyd Webber's music and Glenn Slater's lyrics are a forgettable pastiche of contemporary Top 40 pop-rock, as if Creed, One Republic and Train all turned up to perform at a junior high school mixer.

In David Mamet's new play 'China Doll,' Al Pacino circles the stage, puttering and muttering in the manner of an adrift and aggrieved Lear...It's an intriguing lion-in-winter performance, one that captures both the vanity and tragedy of a giant trying to hang onto his old glory -- a subject Pacino presumably knows a bit about himself. If only Mamet had given him a coherent story and character to work with...The reality isn't nearly that terrible, but Mamet nonetheless seems to have no idea what he's trying to say here...Whether 'China Doll' is actually about old age, or instead about the intersection of politics and money, or how ambition destroys itself -- or something else entirely -- remains anyone's guess.

In the New Jersey-reared actor's Broadway debut in 'Misery,' Willis delivers an underpowered, half-interested performance - all the more puzzling considering that he's playing a character being tormented by a psychopath. That 'Misery' succeeds is a testament to the ingenuity of King's original material, the deftness of director Will Frears' staging, and especially the roller-coaster force of Willis' co-star Laurie Metcalf (from TV's 'Roseanne'), who (almost) makes you forget the iconic stamp Kathy Bates put on the same part in the film version. Despite Willis' flat performance, 'Misery' turns out to be something Broadway hasn't seen in years: an old-fashioned chiller from the Ira Levin/'Deathtrap' school, where the gasps and the giggles are deliciously jumbled together.

...Ivo van Hove...presents this 'View' in a square space framed by a low wall of plexiglass, with audience members on rafters on either side of the stage. There are no props, and curiously the actors wear no shoes. Lending to the strange, anxious atmosphere is an underscore of murmurous music that is heard throughout the show. The result is alternately powerful and a wee bit ridiculous. The power comes mostly courtesy of an astonishing lead performance by British actor Mark Strong ('Sherlock Holmes,' 'The Imitation Game'), who takes a nearly impossible-to-play character...and transforms him into a viscerally flesh-and-blood, palpably tortured figure...Alas, this 'A View from the Bridge'...doesn't quite cohere...a touch more humor and humility might have gone a very long way. It's one thing to serve up something strange and dark and unexpected; it's another thing entirely to be so deadly 'serious' and 'intense' that you risk devolving into self-parody.

The screws turn and turn and then turn some more in 'Thérèse Raquin,' a terrifically nerve-wracking, beautifully mounted new drama that also marks Oscar-nominated actress Keira Knightley's Broadway debut...this story of illicit love, murder and madness -- directed with intensity and great invention by Evan Cabnet -- turns out to be one of the best plays on Broadway this year...Edmundson and Cabnet take a fresh, psychologically acute approach, using long silences and repeatedly isolating Thérèse onstage in order to draw us deeper and deeper into the woman's fractured mindset. Knightley's performance, too, is extraordinary; she employs unnerving, almost animalistic stares and a fierce-jaw to portray both Thérèse's anguish and her boundless capacity for deceit.

'Sylvia' is very sweet and very slight -- a valentine to dogs and the owners they have wrapped around their paws. And, indeed, whenever the tireless Ashford is on stage -- one moment cursing up a storm at an off-stage cat, the next contriving ways to climb atop Greg and Kate's furniture -- this production strikes just the right balance between sentimental and silly. Too often, though, that balance is upended...Broderick adopts a puzzling, Ward Cleaver-like affect -- as if he's playing the idea of an American middle age man instead of an actual character. We never quite believe his Greg is married to White's Kate, and so it's impossible to invest emotionally in the marital crisis Sylvia supposedly causes.

Originally staged in 1966, but never before on Broadway, 'Dames at Sea' is a spoof of those old-fashioned, Depression-era 'backstage' musicals...It's one of those wink-wink, nudge-nudge shows...that seeks to make fun of corny Broadway conventions, all the while luxuriating in the cornfields...Even the silliest spoof, though, demands a measure of humility, whereas from the shrill opening number, 'Wall Street,' 'Dames at Sea' is pitched at those sitting in the balcony of the theater across the street. The frantic pacing never allows us develop even the slightest emotional connection to the characters, and the brassy, cutesy songs...soon start to blur together. Points to the impressive cast of six, especially in the breathless tap dancing numbers...But a little of this elbowing-in-the-ribs goes an awfully long way.

There's probably not much that a pair of old pros like James Earl Jones and Cicely Tyson couldn't put over on stage. At age 84, he still possesses that haunting, deep bass voice; is still capable of sliding like quicksilver from gentle humor to powerhouse authority. At age 90, she still looks ethereal and commands attention despite that tiny frame and sometimes whispery manner...They generate considerable laughs alongside moments of quiet tenderness, and each actor find moments to shine and other moments to relinquish the spotlight -- it's a duet with glorious solos. Where this 'Gin Game' stumbles is in its second half, when Coburn's play takes a series of dark turns and the two characters begin mercilessly attacking one another. Except director Leonard Foglia and his actors don't entirely take those turns alongside Coburn, preferring instead to keep the tone broad and semi-jokey...The result feels a little too much like empty calories; a 'Gin Game' that goes down exceedingly easy, but leaves you hungry for real substance.

Is Sam Rockwell the most versatile actor of his generation? That was the thought that kept occurring to me as I watched his swaggering, magnetic performance in Sam Shepard's 'Fool for Love'...Rockwell can play comedy, tragedy, tenderness, menace, or (as in 'Fool for Love') all of the above...this one-act play can easily come off as overwrought melodrama. Here, though, Rockwell and Arianda gleefully tear into one another, generating palpable sexual tension and nailing the grimly comic underbelly of Shepard's dialogue. The director, Daniel Aukin, strikes just the right notes of urgency and uncertainty; even if you've seen 'Fool for Love' before, you feel as if you have no idea what's coming next. The play builds, thrillingly, to an off-stage fire that bathes the set in a warm red glow -- and, indeed, if ever a production deserved the adjective 'combustible,' it's this one.

Arguably the strongest turn here is from Durant, whose Moritz is alternately prideful and meek, stoic and sweetly sensitive - in short, like every teenager you've ever met. But his voice counterpart, Boniello, falters as he strains to reach the high notes in 'And Then There Were None' and 'Don't Do Sadness.' The latter, a thrashing cri de couer of a boy considering suicide, should be among the show's most powerful moments, but here falls flat. Elsewhere, Manheim - making a very impressive Broadway debut - neatly defines four different adult characters. But Matlin feels wasted, and never gets a scene worthy of her potentially volcanic talents. See this 'Spring Awakening' anyway, because even a flawed performance of this great musical is still better than most of what's on Broadway right now; and because in a few instances - including the final exit of the teenage characters - Arden really has improved upon the original.