Frank Scheck — Theater Critic

The hackneyed plot might have been serviceable if there were enough funny jokes in the mix, but despite Lane and the rest of the cast's best efforts, more often than not the humor falls flat. Where the obviously expensive show does shine, not surprisingly, is in the design elements, from the elaborate gothic scenery and costumes by the Improbable Theatre's ('Shockheaded Peter') Phelim McDermott and Julian Crouch to the wonderfully imaginative and clever puppets designed by Basil Twist.

When it premiered more than 20 years ago, Ken Ludwig's 'Lend Me a Tenor' felt like an uninspired attempt to write the kind of screwball farce that was so popular decades earlier. It seems no less so with its current Broadway revival, but there's no denying that director Stanley Tucci has staged the hell out of it. The play itself might be derivative, mechanical and devoid of real wit, but this production starring Anthony LaPaglia, Tony Shalhoub and Justin Bartha is at times hysterically funny.

Adopting an impeccable American accent, Molina is absolutely superb as the Russia-born Rothko, anchoring the proceedings with a ferocious intensity that never wavers. In a role that at first seems underwritten, Redmayne shines as well, especially late in the play, when his character dares to confront his employer about the hypocrisy of creating his works for an environment in which people will barely even bother to look at them.

Lacking big-name stars, Geoffrey Nauffts' play is going to be a tough sell. But anyone interested in quality theater would do well to check out this deeply moving and surprisingly funny work at the Helen Hayes Theater. Even the subject matter initially seems off-putting: A young man lies in a hospital bed near death, while his friends, family and lover bicker over issues like the existence of God. But if this description makes the evening sound like a downer, it's far from it. Under the skillful direction of Sheryl Kaller, the play crackles with emotional force and acerbic humor.

Onscreen, Christopher Walken's oft-imitated shtick has veered into self-parody in recent years. But seeing it live is a whole other matter: On the evidence of his brilliant performance in Martin McDonagh's new play, 'A Behanding in Spokane,' the actor should have returned to the stage a long time ago. Fueling the evening with his endlessly entertaining physical mannerisms, offbeat comic timing and hilarious vocal inflections, Walken lifts this slight shaggy-dog story into the comic stratosphere. Add superb support by a blue-chip cast, including Sam Rockwell, Anthony Mackie and Zoe Kazan, and you have one of the most entertaining if bizarre offerings on Broadway.

Nunn's minimalist approach contrasts sharply with Prince's original opulent staging, with mixed results. There will be many who bemoan the visually drab sets (largely composed of a large shifting wall and multiple mirrors) and monochromatic costumes, which add an unnecessary level of literal darkness to the proceedings. Even more painful to endure is the reduced, mere eight-piece orchestra which, despite the undeniably skillful orchestrations, simply doesn't do sufficient justice to Sondheim's magnificent, Tony-winning score. On the other hand, this intimate version does a wonderful job of accentuating the emotional complexities and endlessly witty dialogue of Hugh Wheeler's book, even if some of the overly broad performances by the supporting players threaten to overwhelm it.

But despite the many provocative attitudes expressed onstage, the play's ideas don't coalesce in meaningful fashion, and the characters, particularly the evasive defendant and the intern with possible motives of her own, never quite come into focus. And with the latter character, Mamet once again reveals the misogynistic attitude toward women that made such works as 'Oleanna' and 'Speed-the-Plow' so problematic.

Ngauhah -- onstage for nearly every minute of the 2 1/2-hour show -- displays endless reserves of charisma, sex appeal and musical talent, making his stage reincarnation of a genuine superstar, always a difficult task, more than credible. (Kevin Mambo plays the role at matinee performances.) This is a performance that will surely come into play come awards season. The show's raison d'etre is the music, ferociously performed by Antibalas, a Brooklyn-based band. While most of it will be new to all but African music enthusiasts, some of the tunes, such as the international hit 'Zombie,' will be familiar to clubgoers. Jones, here making his stage directorial debut, has provided a seamlessly fluid production. Not surprisingly, his choreography, including some amusing audience participation on the sexually tinged 'Originality/Yellow Fever,' is outstanding and beautifully performed by the hardworking, sexy ensemble.

Joe DiPietro ('I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change') handles these complicated themes in a way that's never heavy-handed, with the story's melodramatic aspects leavened by frequent doses of hilarious one-liners, many of them expertly delivered by Kimball. The show eschews becoming yet another jukebox musical with its terrific original score by Bon Jovi keyboardist David Bryan, which provides an expert pastiche of '50s-era R&B, rock and gospel. Credit, too, must go to the superbly brisk staging by Christopher Ashley and the exuberant choreography by Sergio Trujillo, which is terrifically handled by the large ensemble.

Forget the silly plot, which has to do with a rock club threatened with being turned into a strip mall by a greedy German real estate developer (Paul Schoeffler). There's also a romantic triangle between a sexy waitress/struggling actress (Amy Spangler), a sweet busboy/struggling musician (Constantine Maroulis, of 'American Idol' fame) and a debauched glam rock star (James Carpinello). Instead, just wait for the less than subtle cues for such instantly recognizable songs as 'I Want to Know What Love Is,' 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn,' 'Here I Go Again,' 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' and others, performed at deafening volume by the hard rocking, five-piece onstage band.

Any doubts that the revival of 'Hair' that appeared last year in Central Park would lose something in the rarefied indoor confines of a Broadway theater can be immediately put to rest. If anything, the production has even more of a visceral impact at the Al Hirschfeld, where its youthful ensemble puts out so much blazing energy it's no wonder that half the audience feels compelled to join them onstage for the joyous bacchanalian finale.

The play doesn't really have the heft to sustain its somewhat strained thematic premise. But thanks to witty dialogue and incisive characterizations, it's wonderful fun nonetheless. Matthew Warchus has staged the farcical proceedings to comic perfection, with the physical (and sometimes gross) slapstick humor expertly rendered.

The idea that a musical as brilliant as 'West Side Story' would require reinventing seems a bit dubious, and the doubts are confirmed by the new Broadway revival. Reconceived and staged by its original book writer Arthur Laurents to achieve a new level of grittiness, this production features a lot of tweaks -- most notably the use of Spanish for two of the songs and some of the dialogue -- that don't add appreciably to its impact. And unlike the 91-year-old Laurents' recent smash revival of 'Gypsy,' this production is further undercut by some significant deficiencies in the staging and performances.

This latest example of the burgeoning jukebox musical genre eschews the common method of shoehorning pop songs into a contrived plot. Instead, it relates the rags-to-riches story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, taking care along the way to provide pitch-perfect versions of their many chart-topping hits. Unfortunately, the group's story is not particularly interesting, at least compared to those sagas related in such recent musical biopics as 'Ray' and 'Walk the Line.'