Frank Rizzo — Theater Critic

It takes more than a holy spirit and revivalist verve to make “Tammy Faye” divinely suited for musical theater. It would take a creative team knowing what their show wants to be: a campy hoot, a stinging indictment, an anguished melodrama, a witty satire, a revealing biography? The new Broadway musical “Tammy Faye” touches on all of these points of view but lands on none with any sense of confidence, consistency or purpose. It’s as messy as Tammy’s mascara.

Jez Butterworth’s ambitious, captivating and richly rewarding domestic drama “The Hills of California” straddles dual worlds of dreams and reality as it shuttles between two pivotal time periods in the lives of the Webb women. Though this densely-packed, 17-actor play is more family-focused in its themes than Butterworth’s previous, stunning epics “Jerusalem” and “The Ferryman,” “The Hills of California” — also directed by Sam Mendes, who staged the Tony-winning “Ferryman” — strikes societal notes, too, as it details women with limited choices and plenty of obstacles in an ever-changing world.

Cott, who was impressive as the lead in “Bandstand,” sings the hell out of the songs. But his striking good looks, not to mention his well-displayed biceps and abs, makes him perhaps too much of a slick outsider to be thoroughly credible in Huey’s working-for-a-living world. Still, since the show keeps its ambitions in check with its sensibly-scaled production and low-stakes book, it doesn’t really matter that it thinks inside the box. After all, cardboard has its uses.

There’s an expectation that in Morgan’s latest merging of historic fact and fiction that the writer of “The Crown” on TV, “The Audience” on stage and “The Queen” on film will once again provide an intimate and revealing look behind another well-guarded curtain, this time one that is made of iron. But on this foreign turf Morgan’s footing is less sure, he’s less able to speak with the native authenticity that he brought to his other, far richer works. These charmless characters are broadly outlined, psychologically shallow and simplistically played.

Audiences may feel the same way after seeing this work of theatrical virtuosity, realizing that all the tiny details, wild rhythms, and clever hooks presented on stage have added up to a work that is brave, purposeful, and rich.

As writer, Taub smartly avoids the facile men-against-women tropes and digs deeper into internal challenges within the movement and within the women as individuals. Thanks to the specificity of the writing, music and lyrics and a remarkable ensemble of women and nonbinary actors, the multitude of characters in this densely packed historic narrative are, if not deeply, then at least reasonably well-defined and relatable with their personal doubts, fears and triumphs.

Certainly Eden Espinosa, starring in the title role, brings both luminosity and strength to her powerful performance as the ambitious, visionary and resilient artist known for capturing the women of her day in an aspirational light: perfectly poised, coiffed and seemingly glowing from within. But the musical’s titular character is not so polished. Rather she’s a complicated woman — to a fault. This might not be as much of a concern in a thick biography, but it’s harder to convey successfully in a musical where a clearer line is needed as it follows epochs of life, society and art.

For followers of the book and film, the climactic moment on stage remains equally thrilling — and the most creative stampede since the wildebeest run in “The Lion King” (whose co-producer Peter Schneider is also top-lined here). This underdog circus troupe may promote its entertainment as “Benzini Brothers’ Most Spectacular Show on Earth,” but for this rube’s nickels, “Water for Elephants” could be the greatest show on Broadway.

As for the production, the staging by Michael Greif (“Dear Evan Hansen,” “Next to Normal”) and Schele Williams (“The Wiz”) feels, for all its intention of intimacy, contrived and unsurprising. For a while the cross-cutting of the three couples haunting each other is intriguing but soon Katie Spelman’s choreography of past and future lives ever-circling each other simply becomes a dizzying one-note effect. The cross-racial casting of couples nicely underscores the universality of the romance and the ease of imaginative leaps in musical theater.

In the end, it’s not “Gutenberg” the show but rather this odd coupling of comedic pals, both on stage and off, that delights. Hats off to them.

In the end, it’s not “Gutenberg” the show but rather this odd coupling of comedic pals, both on stage and off, that delights. Hats off to them.

In a story that hearkens back to 1955, you could wish this musical’s creators had considered what made musical theater so great in that golden era. Perhaps they might have crafted something more fresh and tuneful, with goosebump moments that come not from hydraulics but from theatrical know-how. Sometimes looking at the past with fresh eyes can lead to a new road forward, but with “Back to the Future,” time just stands still.

In a story that hearkens back to 1955, you could wish this musical’s creators had considered what made musical theater so great in that golden era. Perhaps they might have crafted something more fresh and tuneful, with goosebump moments that come not from hydraulics but from theatrical know-how. Sometimes looking at the past with fresh eyes can lead to a new road forward, but with “Back to the Future,” time just stands still.

There’s not one false note in director Daniel Sullivan’s clear direction or in the natural yet precise performances of Linney and Hecht, who are working at the top of their game and together offer a master class in acting.

There’s not one false note in director Daniel Sullivan’s clear direction or in the natural yet precise performances of Linney and Hecht, who are working at the top of their game and together offer a master class in acting.

But in its place Sorkin and the veteran director Bartlett Sher (“South Pacific,” “The King and I”) jettison much of the fun, too. What remains is a cooler “Camelot,” with its own head-scratching dramaturgy. In making the three central characters — King Arthur (Andrew Burnap), Queen Guenevere (Phillipa Soo) and Sir Lancelot (Jordan Donica) — all tied up in emotional knots yet strangely aloof, the production’s creative team also deprives the show of much of its heart, joy and romance.

Key to this retelling is the presentational style of the show, which is common for City Center’s Encores! shows and here becomes an asset as it sharpens the focus and always keeps the musical numbers front and center, enhanced by Heather Gilbert’s lighting, Susan Hilferty’s period costumes and Jon Weston’s sound design. The tri-level raised stage by Dane Laffrey also keeps it simple, effectively standing in for a wide variety of locales: factory offices, court room, ballroom, gravesites, prison cell and ultimately gallows. Co-choreographers Lauren Yalango-Grant and Christopher Cree Grant make the sweep of history move with grace and flair. Sven Ortel’s projections of vintage photographs of the actual characters, settings and headlines are a constant reminder of the real world and its actual history. This theatrically thrilling revival of “Parade” teaches lessons that still need to be learned from a wicked past that haunts us still.

This stage production boasts swell performances, dandy twists and turns, razzmatazz dancing and a whole lotta energy (under the savvy, playful direction and choreography of Casey Nicholaw) — all of which should please new audiences without alienating fans of the original. If the songs by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman (“Hairspray,” “Smash”) don’t always score high marks, well: Nobody’s perfect.

Kitt and Crowe also fashion several effective numbers sung by William's no-nonsense but supportive mother Elaine (Anika Larsen), a schoolteacher who frets from home. Here, she's given variations of the film's great monologues: One is a lecture to her class in which she memorably declares, 'Rock stars have kidnapped my son,' and in another, she gives Russell a dose of parental terror over the phone. Larsen lands both moments beautifully, with just the right comic gravitas and heart. But these skillful original songs only tell half the story. We never hear expressed - in a way that only musical theater can do - what this music means to these characters. Instead, at key dramatic moments we get renditions of the hits of the era, notably Elton John's 'Tiny Dancer' as a kind of carpool karaoke, Joni Mitchell's 'River' and Yusef Islam's (aka Cat Stevens) 'The Wind.' But even in minor moments the musical forgoes original songs and turns to tunes from Nancy Wilson, Ron Davies, Stevie Wonder, Greg Allman, Jimmy Page and Robert Point, among others.

Co-directors Diane Paulus and Jeffrey L. Page apply a bold Brechtian brush to this picture with its casting, staging, musical arrangements and design. Without changing the narrative, it adds layers of context that offer further shadings to the musical, even though at times the results are somewhat crude, clunky or overdone.

The end result is certainly the funniest show on Broadway in years, if not the most likable. Look for a healthy run, at least with headliner Crystal, who last packed houses with his autobiographical show '700 Sundays.' And with composer Jason Robert Brown and lyricist Amanda Green supplying one of the most appealing and disarming scores in some time, what's not to like?

The end result is certainly the funniest show on Broadway in years, if not the most likable. Look for a healthy run, at least with headliner Crystal, who last packed houses with his autobiographical show '700 Sundays.' And with composer Jason Robert Brown and lyricist Amanda Green supplying one of the most appealing and disarming scores in some time, what's not to like?

The problem with this uninspired revival of 'Funny Girl' - which opened at the August Wilson Theatre on Sunday, marking the show's Broadway return after nearly 60 years - is not simply the singular ghost of she who shall not be named. (Alright: It's Barbra Streisand.) Rather, the issue here is the production's inability to live up to its star-making potential that would have made us once again forgive the simplistic, sentimental and sanitized original book credited to Isobel Lennart.

Directed by Scott Ellis, this revival, too, is a solid hit, despite a few grounding errors. It should also prove to be popular for all market segments, especially with its triple-play of television favorites: two who are taking their Broadway bows for the first time, along with a beloved stage veteran.

Hnath has expertly crafted a piece of theater that is both raw and authentic yet at the same time one of artifice, and it is in this in-between plane that the audience lives. There is no hiding the fact that this is a lip-synced piece based on the recordings of many days of interviews by dramaturg Steve Cosson. At the show's start, O'Connell is clearly outfitted on stage with an ear-piece and given a quick sound check. There are electronic beeps throughout, as a reminder that this is an edited, recorded work. Supertitles add information and separate the three acts of the narration.