David Gordon — Theater Critic

Nettles should probably take a few performances off, the way Lin-Manuel Miranda and Shaina Taub did when they starred in their own shows (Hamilton and Suffs, respectively), so she can experience Giulia herself and see what’s working and what’s not. Until she does, everyone’s efforts will be stymied, especially those of director Mary Zimmerman, whose staging often amounts to a series of opening and closing doors. The doors are a compelling device—Daniel Ostling’s deep burgundy set transforms fluidly without ever actually changing—as are Ana Kuzmaníc’s sumptuous costumes, which are embroidered with different poison flowers, but an attractive visual language isn’t the same as cohesive dramatic one. Right now, Giulia is an intriguing cocktail, but it could stand to be a little pickier about what goes into the potion.

The ultimate takeaway from Robert O’Hara’s La Cage aux Folles is that there are a lot of intriguing thoughts that have been prevented from cohering by the accelerated timeline. That’s why “The Best of Times” lands with such force. It’s not just a second-act showstopper, it’s a reminder of how glorious La Cage aux Folles can be when everything clicks. For five minutes, it truly does, and they really are the best of times.

That Rickson’s staging comes together in Weideman’s lighting is not surprising, but it is slightly head-scratching that a production ultimately designed to be heard lands best in purely visual terms. New Born might not be the most compelling listen, but it’s a beautiful watch.

Friedman’s production is a theatrical miracle, finding the heart at the center of this story of dreams, regrets, and good things going, going, gone. Somewhere, its creators are bursting with pride to see their vision fully realised, at long last.

Individually, the entire cast is quite strong, but what they collectively lack is chemistry (yeah, chemistry…oops, wrong Loesser show). The beguiling Rose Hemingway imbues Rosemary with a self-assured sexuality and has a very pretty voice, though she and Radcliffe lack that crucial spark. Radcliffe connects slightly more with Larroquette, who is delicious as Biggley and tremendous in his scenes with the superb Tammy Blanchard as his vamp of a paramour, Hedy LaRue. Blanchard’s Hedy is not a dumb bimbo, she’s a cunning Jersey girl, a smarter version of Snooki. Mary Faber has some very nice moments as the sex-starved secretary Smitty, Christopher J. Hanke pushes too hard for laughs in the genuinely comic role of villain Bud Frump, and Rob Bartlett, Michael Park and Ellen Harvey excel in their roles.

Perhaps the perfect choice to guide the madness and innuendo supplied by Reubens and co-writers Bill Steinkellner and John Paragon is Alex Timbers, head of Les Freres Corbusier and writer/director of Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson. Timbers, who no doubt grew up with the show as I did, gets the humor, knows how to deal with it, and guides with an invisible hand. (Parents should be prepared to have some explaining to do when their kids don't get some of the more adult-themed jokes.)

What Rock of Ages proves is that Damn Yankees' 'High Enough' and REO Speedwagon's 'Can't Fight this Feeling' can sizzle with chemistry (yeah, chemistry!) just as much as 'I'll Know.' Chris D'Arienzo has crafted an old-fashioned musical with '80s music. While the script never even comes close to reaching the heights of Guys and Dolls or Gypsy, as far as jukebox musicals go, it has more heart and wit and is far more genuine than its jukebox predecessors, Lennon and Good Vibrations.