Elisabeth Vincentelli — Theater Critic

So confident is “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” in its ability to ramp up the thrills that it doesn’t wait for the finale to drop the confetti — it falls a mere 30 minutes in shamelessly feel-good show won't do to entertain, from bringing theatergoers onstage to dance to lowering its singing divas from the rafters. It may look a bit ramshackle at times, but 'Priscilla' has a big, joyous heart.

So confident is “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” in its ability to ramp up the thrills that it doesn’t wait for the finale to drop the confetti — it falls a mere 30 minutes in shamelessly feel-good show won't do to entertain, from bringing theatergoers onstage to dance to lowering its singing divas from the rafters. It may look a bit ramshackle at times, but 'Priscilla' has a big, joyous heart.

Tom Stoppard's 'Arcadia' is witty, erudite and cunningly structured. David Leveaux's revival, which opened on Broadway last night, looks handsome, and its cast, including Billy Crudup and Raúl Esparza, does fine, nuanced work. But boy, is the show tedious.

The most exciting moment in 'That Championship Season' comes when Jason Patric's character, Tom, falls down a flight of stairs. For a couple of seconds, you're involved in what's happening: Wow, that was something! Is he OK? How long did he have to rehearse that stunt? And then it's right back to sleep.

Under Daniel Sullivan's sensitive direction, the cast -- including the wryly sharp Estelle Parsons and Becky Ann Baker as Margie's landlady and best friend, respectively -- gives us fully rounded characters that never fall into caricature. Indeed, the play is often very funny, but never at the expense of its ill-starred characters. It's that generosity that makes 'Good People' a good show.

Luckily, in this Roundabout revival, Lady Bracknell is played by Brian Bedford. She couldn't be in better hands. The 75-year-old star -- who also directs -- is consistently funny without resorting to camp or caricature. He's a master of the precise pause and the arched eyebrow, evoking laughter simply by dropping his voice an octave on a word. Floating onstage like a galleon in full sail (excellent costumes by Desmond Heeley), he basically plays the Gorgon straight.

A spectacular folly has just crash-landed at Lincoln Cen ter Theater. Eight years in the making, John Guare's latest play, 'A Free Man of Color,' is an ambitious, awkward, fascinating, lumbering endeavor about the mapping of America's modern physical, social and racial borders. Most of the show, directed by George C. Wolfe, is a maddening slog. But the last 30 minutes are so brilliant that you can't dismiss the whole thing.

Too bad they all feel underused. The show looks good, thanks to Gregg Barnes' colorful costumes -- the elf outfits are particularly snazzy -- and David Rockwell's evocative sets. But Matthew Sklar and Chad Beguelin's score, while efficient, lacks the juice they brought to the underrated 'The Wedding Singer.' Casey Nicholaw's direction and choreography are similarly restrained, and only rarely summon the inspired mayhem the show needs.

Yet Pacino has gone bigger, unnecessarily turning up the volume since the summer, and losing subtlety in the process. Looking bedraggled, his shirt half hanging from his shapeless pants, Shylock makes a pitiful figure next to the Christian establishment, haughty tormentors in crisply pressed suits and spotless spats. That Shylock would channel his humiliation and disappointment into vengeful rage is understandable, if not excusable. But does it need to be so obvious?

To watch all this live feels supremely familiar and comforting, like eating a huge ice-cream sundae topped by a mountain of whipped cream and exploding sparklers.

While Quinn starts off with cavemen, then proceeds to the Greeks, the Romans and so on, history is merely a pretext for loosely connected observations about various ethnic, religious and cultural characteristics. At least Quinn prefers gruff bafflement and old-school Brooklyn attitude to stereotype-based hostilities.

'Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown' is far from perfect. But there's enough going on to see this particular glass of gazpacho as half-full.

On the surface, 'The Scottsboro Boys' is a hard sell in a Times Square dominated by escapist fluff. The show was slightly tweaked after its off-Broadway run in the spring -- to give the characters more back story and motivation -- but it hasn't been compromised, and remains grimly thought-provoking. Yet this is also a thrillingly inventive and entertaining night at the theater. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll be moved. What could be more Broadway than that?

In the end, 'Rain' is as good as you want it to be. It hits all the right notes, but an imitation is still an imitation.

In the end, 'Rain' is as good as you want it to be. It hits all the right notes, but an imitation is still an imitation.

Granted, you often wish the show bared more teeth instead of settling into comfortable, sepia-toned banter. But for better or for worse, this is not that kind of play, and this is not that kind of production. Besides, a soft touch can also leave an impact. Just look at the last scene, when Miss Daisy is mentally and physically fragile, in a wheelchair.

Lombardi was idolized by players and fans for his tough-love approach. His reputation lives on, bolstered by his real accomplishments on the field and maybe even more by his inspirational speeches - he's basically Elizabeth Gilbert for guys. It would have been good to spice up the play with some plays.

In the end, though, the message couldn't be clearer. With its mix of flatulence gags and learned references, 'La Bete' proves that it's possible to be sophisticated and entertaining at the same time. Elomire and Valere aren't as irreconcilable as they seem to be.

And yet 'Bloody Bloody' never fails to entertain: It stays faithful to the people's president by making him a crowd-pleaser.

It's a trifle, but one that's dished out by Patrick Stewart and T.R. Knight (the puppyish George on 'Grey's Anatomy'), two skilled, likable stars with a mellow chemistry and spot-on timing.

Laura Linney -- whose initial performance of Sarah earned her a Tony nomination -- has made her less abrasive this time around. A welcome side effect is that we now understand better what Sarah's writer boyfriend, James (Brian d'Arcy James), sees in her.

This Roundabout revival of George Bernard Shaw's 'Mrs. Warren's Profession' is agonizingly static and slow, with a tone that navigates a narrow range between flat and distinctly off. Nobody seems to know how to handle the play's wicked balance of anger and comedy.

This Roundabout revival of George Bernard Shaw's 'Mrs. Warren's Profession' is agonizingly static and slow, with a tone that navigates a narrow range between flat and distinctly off. Nobody seems to know how to handle the play's wicked balance of anger and comedy.

Still, Hall gets enough right, and by the end, it's practically impossible not to root for 'The Pitmen Painters' -- both the show and the characters.

The brilliant production of 'Brief Encounter' that opened on Broadway last night should make all but the sourest puss believe in romance again. It's a spirited charm offensive that's just impossible to resist.