Elysa Gardner

Going Bacharach: The Songs of an Icon, a new revue that clocks in at roughly 100 minutes—including an intermission—manages to intelligently document its subject’s dazzling career and distinctive artistry while keeping the emphasis squarely where it should be, on the music itself.

Ms. Bell’s book inserts flashbacks to add drama and, at times, blur the lines between reality and reflection, while Ms. Gertler Gold’s winding, often meandering tunes and arrangements provide dissonant harmonies. The singing, accordingly, can sound purposefully shrill, as if the gifted players have been instructed to sustain a mix of tension and terror.

For a play that’s famous for the lack of progress its characters make, Waiting for Godot has succeeded in bringing an awful lot of A-list names to the New York stage. The latest to take on Samuel Beckett’s co-dependent hobos, Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter, have teamed up in the past on film—perhaps most notably, and most appropriately in this case, as the central duo in the Bill & Ted franchise. The real star of this new Broadway revival, however, is the set. British designer Soutra Gilmour, a frequent collaborator of the director, Jamie Lloyd, has fashioned a stark, stunning, semi-spherical structure that seems to take us inside a tunnel of sorts. Or is it a drainage pipe? Or, just maybe, an enormous tree—since Lloyd has opted not to physically represent that object, which is mentioned repeatedly and used symbolically in the work.

The exchanges that follow segue from effusive, bittersweet humor to shattering sadness, with Messrs. Holland and iLongwe — the latter is equally potent and can be especially funny, when he’s not breaking your heart — evince the mix of responsibility, guilt, and, above all, love that makes Ogun’s relationship to his brother so tender and tragic.

Ms. LeFrere gets to model a few of the eye-catching costumes designed by Kaye Voyce to accompany clips from McQueen’s shows. There’s nothing too garish or unsettling here, and Lee admits at one point, “All I want to do is fix ugliness.” Whether you’re a slave to fashion or, like me, a confirmed non-expert, you’ll likely find “House of McQueen” an intriguing and entertaining character study.

Toward the end, Mr. Ross proposes that people are like bananas: “The more bruised we get, the sweeter we are. And we’re mushy on the inside.” Happily, “Banana” offers enough sweetness, and spice, to make the mush forgivable.

Ms. McGovern’s performance is immaculate in its detail, from her alternately slinky and strained movements, evoking Ava at different stages of life, to the way her ultra-polished, almost stilted pronunciation… can slide back into a Southern drawl when conversation turns to her youth, or when she’s piqued.

For all its mock brutality, in fact, this “Heathers” left me nostalgic for a more innocent time, before contemporary developments such as social media had expanded, exponentially, the ways in which people could be cruel to one another — and inexperienced, malleable young people in particular could be damaged by that cruelty. Happily, you needn’t consider any of this to enjoy the mischievous fun that “Heathers The Musical” provides.

The playwright has an ideal messenger in Mr. Krasinski, who delivers a slow-building performance that’s ultimately as haunting as it is hilarious. Directed by Sam Gold — who wisely wields a lighter hand here than he has in various reinterpretations of Shakespeare and other classics — the actor finds humor in his character’s cluelessness and self-pity, sustaining a breezy, ironically cheerful vibe through much of the production.

Daniel J. Watts is a shinier, more buoyant presence as Sammy Davis Jr., who cajoles and haunts Nat throughout the taping, which grows more and more surreal, evolving into a sort of fever dream — or more of a nightmare, with David Bengali’s video design and Stacey Derosier’s lighting conspiring to create a hellish atmosphere. “Lights Out” nonetheless proves uplifting, delivering a message of resilience as much as defiance. And while not technically a musical, it offers some of the most delightful music, and singing, available on New York’s stages at the moment.

As “Real Women” was celebrated in its earlier incarnations for promoting body positivity, the musical’s title song becomes a showcase both for the plump, pretty Ana’s comfort with her weight and for the different shapes and sizes of the company members as they strip to their undergarments. Their enthusiasm — captured with palpable affection by director/choreographer Sergio Trujillo, who serves the material as well as possible — was, at the preview I attended, received with a standing ovation.

the show is Mr. Groff’s vehicle, and he rides it splendidly, and tirelessly. I’ll admit I was never a huge fan of Darin; notwithstanding his undeniable technical prowess, his delivery could, for me, have a smarmy, lounge-lizard quality. I’ve always preferred Louis Armstong’s take on “Mack the Knife,” and Frank Sinatra’s version of the title song of “Just in Time,” for that matter. Yet in singing these tunes and others, Mr. Groff manages to channel Darin’s slickness with a rugged dynamism that lends a little more grit to the material, without ever losing sight of his subject’s eagerness to charm. The actor also charts Darin’s offstage life with sensitivity, from his troubled marriage and other personal and professional frustrations to the social consciousness he developed as Vietnam and the civil rights movement became pressing concerns.

In this magnificent staging, Ms. Landau and her collaborators chillingly underline these darker expressions of ambition and voyeurism, which since “Collins” was first staged have fed developments from reality TV to social media. The stark, vast set by a prolific design collective called dots has the feel of an eerie frontier, positioning Floyd as an inheritor to the pioneering spirit that had long fueled American aspiration while accommodating more fanciful scenes, among them stunning dream sequences.

With his latest effort, “Purpose,” the playwright does more than maintain his momentum: He secures his place as Broadway’s most incisive and scathingly entertaining chronicler of family and social dysfunction — an inheritor to American giants stretching from Eugene O’Neill to Tracy Letts, but with a voice and perspective that are distinctly of this moment.

Mr. Lombardo’s latest play, “Conversations with Mother,” was inspired by a woman who’s less widely known, though it surely required less research on the part of the playwright, her son. This one-act, semi-autobiographical play introduces us to Bobby Collavechio, also a playwright, whom we meet as an adolescent and follow into middle age, and Maria Collavechio, his aggressively loving Catholic mother.

Ms. Behar’s latest venture, fortunately, finds the veteran comedian a little less out of her depth. Titled “My First Ex-Husband,” it consists of eight monologues she crafted after interviewing a diverse group of divorcées. The roughly 90-minute production, directed by Randal Myler, is set to feature a rotating lineup of stars; the first casts Ms. Behar alongside a fellow funny lady, Susie Essman, of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” fame; an “Orange is the New Black” alumna, Adrienne C. Moore; and a stage and screen veteran, Tovah Feldshuh.

If this Urinetown is neither as starry nor as enchanting as some of Encores!’s other efforts over the past few years, it still delivers a good time. And you’ll seldom be as thankful for the presence of an accessible restroom during intermission.

At its core, “Prime” asks what it means to be human, and how that is affected by time and our surroundings, a theme that Mr. Harrison has explored in various other works; one of his most recent, “The Amateurs,” unfolds during the Black Plague. His latest venture, “The Antiquities,” brings us back to the future, to a post-“Prime” era — and it offers an even more chilling perspective on where technology may be taking us.

Ms. Ibraheem conceived the play, which is set in Gaza and traces a stream of Israeli military operations, in 2014, when another war was raging in the territory. Yet it’s impossible to watch Ms. Ibraheem’s heroine, Mariam, describe these actions — bombings, which grow ever closer and more frequent — without thinking of the cataclysmic events that have unfolded there over the past 16 months.

“All In,” which will feature a rotating series of stage and screen stars during its limited run — Mr. Mulaney is currently joined by Fred Armisen, Renée Elise Goldsberry, and Richard Kind — consists of a series of vignettes adapted from Mr. Rich’s stories, and their general sensibility exists at the intersection of “SNL” and the New Yorker. Varying in length from short and sweet to overextended, they’re literate, irreverent, and goofy in that knowing way one associates with the kind of bright, impeccably educated young men (and sometimes women) who find success writing for late-night television shows and prestigious magazines.

The director has also culled fine performances from other actors, particularly another musical theater favorite, Danny Burstein, cast here as Herbie, the agent turned candy salesman lured back to his old job by Rose, who becomes his partner in love as well. While Mr. Burstein has a lovely, easy chemistry with Ms. McDonald, his beautifully nuanced portrait also flickers with the simmering indignation and fundamental decency that ultimately dooms their characters’ relationship.

Happily, director Anna D. Shapiro, who has an illustrious history of finding comedy in discord, has assigned the role of Suzanne to a theater veteran whose distinctive presence and exquisite comic timing are ideally suited to the part, Jessica Hecht. Ms. Hecht’s Suzanne is, like many women she has played, a little flighty on the surface, but the actress also, eventually, mines the deep pain this character carries inside her with shattering authenticity. Amber Gray brings an effortless dignity to Carina, who quickly finds her footing and emerges as a rival to Suzanne’s authority. As the rather temperamental Meiko and Eli, who’s complacent and a bit clueless but fundamentally decent, Chelsea Yakura-Kurtz and Thomas Middleditch engagingly flirt, spar, and endure their own crises. Don is played by the estimable Bill Irwin, who predictably finds the clown in this scrupulously well-intentioned but overburdened fellow. Don gets to say the last sentence in “Eureka Day,” which serves as a brilliant punchline for a play that finds refreshing humor, and some poignance, in subject matter that has proven burdensome for all of us.

Christopher Innvar, stepping into a role played by the estimable Boyd Gaines eight years ago, brings an easy authority and charisma to Gabriel, while capturing the complacency that, for example, prompts him to ask Lily about her personal life. And in his scene alone with Gretta, played by a tender, radiant Kate Baldwin—one of musical theater’s more elegant leading ladies, who happily gets to sing here as well—Innvar conveys both the unease such men can experience when their perspectives come into question and the curiosity and yearning that distinguishes some from others.

Ms. Hall’s focus in “Quilt” is on four sisters who are reunited after their mother’s death. Clementine, who’s apparently single, is the eldest, and was the closest to their mom. Gio, a police officer, has the biggest mouth; embroiled in what’s clearly a nasty divorce, she self-medicates with marijuana, as Clementine alternately disapproves and shares her supply.

Every now and then, if you’re lucky, you’ll leave a theater with bittersweet but ultimately joyful tears streaming down your face, perhaps wishing you’d worn waterproof mascara. That was my predicament, at least, after catching a preview of “Maybe Happy Ending,” the most original and enchanting new musical to arrive on Broadway in years.