David Cote — Theater Critic

God of Carnage is the author's most satisfying work since Art (1998), which also balances her very French tendency to jumble philosophy and farce with a surgical dissection of bourgeois pretension and slippery social identity. Matthew Warchus masterfully stages the work, heeding the playwright's command to eschew strict naturalism and embrace the artificial nature of the action. The characters exist as stock types (Daniels as the callous lawyer and Davis as an icy wealth-management consultant), yet the loopier script convulsions allow for ridiculous (and theatrically bracing) psychological leaps.

Elton John’s score is, let’s be honest, a dullish parade of midtempo ballads and soft rock, and Lee Hall’s book is superior to his merely adequate lyrics, but this production is emphatically more than the sum of its parts. Director Stephen Daldry (who also helmed the movie) does wizardly work balancing the various dialectics that give the material its crackle of sublime storytelling: broad spectacle versus tight dramatic focus, collective sacrifice versus individual excellence, escapism versus social duty.

Based on novelist Gregory Maguire's 1995 adult variation on the Wizard of Oz mythology, Wicked provides a prequel to the children's book and movie. The lavishly designed musical addresses complex themes, such as standards of beauty, individual morality and, believe it or not, opposing fascism. Thanks to Winnie Holzman's witty book and composer-lyricist Stephen Schwartz's robust and pop-inflected score, Wicked soars.

Almost two dozen hits from the ’70s pop sensation ABBA form the spine of this worldwide smash, which book writer Catherine Johnson has feebly fleshed out into a mother-daughter comedy-drama. As theater, Mamma Mia! is forgettable. As a delivery system for pop-culture nostalgia, it’s ruthless.