Craig Jenkins — Theater Critic

On Broadway isn't haunted by its ghosts. It's an act of penitent commemoration. Near the end of the night, Springsteen recalls a trip back to his hometown, which, for all his signature drive and wanderlust, he can get to in a ten-minute trip from where he lives now. He performs a strange benediction for a big tree he used to climb as a kid, upon learning it was recently removed from the property. The physical form is gone, but the comfort and support he associated with it will last forever. The Broadway show might serve the same purpose for fans. It's a rare opportunity to see the man up close in one of the smallest rooms he'll ever play. As with any Springsteen stage performance, you learn that his voice and personality are much bigger than the body housing them.