Gloria Oladipo

English, Sanaz Toossi’s stunning Broadway debut, is a precise study of language’s significance. The 2023 Pulitzer prize winner slyly presents as a comedy about studying a foreign language, but eventually blooms into an evocation of grief and assimilation.

A hit-and-miss coming-of-age tale from late playwright Samm-Art Williams covers aspects of the Black experience with detail, but uneven direction distracts

The production splashes in excess, but of the Las Vegas residency kind. Golden-lacquered set pieces and a dizzying projection screen recreate the Gatsby mansion (and a bevy of other locations). The “nouveau riche” mansion isn’t as opulent or lush as one might imagine, feeling closer in spirit to a mega-church.

Stereophonic, one of Broadway’s most striking plays of the season, is an allegory of industry greed and artistry. But the play, as a work itself, serves as a triumphant example of what happens when art has the time to develop, to home in on the basics of craft, character and spirit.

Promoted as “The Wiz” through the “Blackest of Black Lenses” in a New York Times feature, the new revival that just opened on Broadway is in touch with its legacy, delivering a pleasurable experience. But ultimately, this “Wiz” is adrift. The production is busied with creating entertainment and signposting Blackness, at the cost of a cohesive, artistic vision.

Dementia is a horrifically flattening illness. But it is difficult to sustain the show’s over two hour runtime on the question of reconciliation. The musical’s use of interracial casting is also frustrating. Younger and middle Allie are both Black, while older Allie is white. The Noahs are cast in a similar fashion. The issues with casting isn’t a problem of believability, but consistency. It’s strange why the racial unity in casting is interrupted, especially with no discernible dramatic choice. Sympathizers will waive off the choice as negligible, a side effect of race-blind casting. But race isn’t a minor detail, especially with swaths of the play taking place right before and after the Vietnam war – well into the civil rights era. The Notebook musical hasn’t lost its romantic magic, by any means. But without the equally touching music and a fleshing out of its core courtship, it’s a story that remains underwritten.

Unfortunately, Shanley doesn’t offer more for Fran to do or feel. She listens, she responds, indulging in a staunch placation that is given little justification. Fran’s response and the supposed happy ending of their relationship feels more like a man’s fantasy than anything gripped in honesty. “I’m nothing but real,” Fran tells Own during their play’s final encounter. “No pretty lights.” If only that were true.

I Need That is clearly a vehicle for DeVito’s return to Broadway, coming six years after his debut in Arthur Miller’s The Price. DeVito is funny and makes the most of Rebeck’s slapstick material. Within the ensemble and alone, he brings charm and occasional devastation to Sam’s afflictions. A scene where he plays a solo game of Sorry! is arresting and hilarious, an exhibition of his considerable talents.

Make no mistake, Jaja’s African Hair Braiding is wildly entertaining. Bioh’s comedic skills are masterful, ballooned further by a talented ensemble. Mensah, in particular, brings a bracing dry humor, an excellent complement to the cast’s energetic antics. But the urge to sink into drama, particularly in the play’s last moments, is unnecessary. Bioh’s commitment to showing levity is refreshing. It’s a needed counterbalance to African stories that reek of debasement (often puppeteered by white people), and the increasing number of first-gen comedies committed to mocking the immigrant experience for a chortle. Jaja’s is at its best when its characters are allowed to be defined by indignation and empowered in their essential craft, not used to underline the trauma within the US immigration process.

Amid the hangups, all members of the cast excel. Lloyd delivers an ensemble worthy of taking on Ibsen’s masterwork. Moayed intensely spotlights the casual cruelty in Torvald. Skating between sweet quips and eager putdowns, his portrayal emphasizes the disparate nature of violence. Onaodowan is magnetic as Krogstad, bringing a quiet pain and dignity to a character usually colored in blind rage.

With Kenny Leon’s direction, Alexander’s recollections are rarely muddled. Innovative lighting design by Allen Lee Hughes means the story’s weaving timelines remain clear as Alexander moves through the present time of her speech and the past of her memory. Kennedy further teases us along with reminders that Alexander’s remembrances will be expanded on later. But as a piece, Ohio State Murders lacks a higher calling. Ohio State Murders works best as a reflection of Alexander’s emotional experience, not as a “whodunnit” about her daughter’s murder. The murderer central to the play is named halfway through. With such suspense slackened, the focus should be on Alexander’s emotional experience and thinking.

Parks' writing is already something to behold. She masterfully navigates all that her work wants to hold. Dealing in equal parts humor alongside shame, guilt and despair, Topdog/Underdog covers the world without running itself ragged. It's a testament to Parks' enduring mastery of craft, creativity and empathy. But to witness her words under Kenny Leon's direction is to see something truly kinetic and alive, completely stripped of niceties or pandering. The work is ugly, at times, cracked right open, but familiar and loving. It's a balanced embracement of the siblings' love and mischievousness alongside their ordained dysfunction.