Joe Dziemianowicz — Theater Critic

Melodramatic? Yes. Sentimental? Sure. And the characters and dialogue are etched in clean, if broad, strokes. But narrative thinness and contrived twists (there are some) are offset by the sheer scope of the production and the achievements of the South African puppet company Handspring.

Cannavale's work is outstanding. With veins popping in his neck and a body language of tics and anxieties, he stunningly conveys a man fighting demons within and without; one day at a time never looked so daunting.It would seem that the X-rated- ranting Ralph D. would make a good fit for Rock, but it works against him. Rock gives the character a good shot, but when he delivers Ralph D.'s lines in his trademark grunts and high-pitched voice, it's too close to what's become his own comic specialty. He not only draws unintentional laughs, but some audience members spoke back to him. Goes to show - sometimes, it's fame that's a 'Motherf-.'

Cannavale's work is outstanding. With veins popping in his neck and a body language of tics and anxieties, he stunningly conveys a man fighting demons within and without; one day at a time never looked so daunting.It would seem that the X-rated- ranting Ralph D. would make a good fit for Rock, but it works against him. Rock gives the character a good shot, but when he delivers Ralph D.'s lines in his trademark grunts and high-pitched voice, it's too close to what's become his own comic specialty. He not only draws unintentional laughs, but some audience members spoke back to him. Goes to show - sometimes, it's fame that's a 'Motherf-.'

The show has wonderful moments, but issues abound. McNally's overstuffed story jockeys unsteadily between hijinks and serious drama. With Frank's story, the FBI agent's story and Frank's girlfriend's family's story, it's just too much. Shaiman and Wittman's score shows polish and style. 'Butter Out of Cream' smoothly states Frank's life motto, while 'Don't Be a Stranger' is a moody backdrop for a glamorous dance. But '(Our) Family Tree' and 'Doctor's Orders' could've been cut and never missed.

The new production of the Cole Porter classic 'Anything Goes' sailed onto Broadway last night, and it's as cool and intoxicating as a fresh ocean breeze. Credit two bright talents for such a snazzy, jazzy affair: Sutton Foster, who stars as the saucy singing evangelist Reno Sweeney, and director-choreographer Kathleen Marshall, who's at the helm of this buoyantly dance-happy production.

And despite all the ghosts, 'Bengal Tiger' isn't as stirring as it strives to be. It restates a famous 1960s war poster that noted: 'War is not healthy for children and other living things.' Like soldiers, gardeners and tigers.

Making his first foray into musical comedy and stepping into a part made famous by Robert Morse, Radcliffe is a likable but very boyish presence. He shows off a pleasant singing voice as corporate climber J. Pierrepont Finch, but he's waxen and not animated enough to make Finch soar. His take on his character's personal pep talk, 'I Believe in You,' emerges dispiriting. Still, director-choreographer Rob Ashford's production is bright, cheerful and energetic, that's for sure. But at times its supersized mentality and occasionally garish qualities compete with the sleek and sophisticated brilliance of the material.

It's a show where you catch yourself laughing one minute, mouth agape the next, eventually wiping away tears, and, finally, cheering. Stone and Parker are famous for their take-no-prisoners, nothing-is-sacred approach to humor. And Lopez knows about thumbing his nose at contemporary conventions. They all share credit for the book, music and lyrics. Silly, soulful and (no surprise with these guys) seriously rude, the score is consistently chipper and clever and keeps the pages in this 'Book' turning smoothly.

Leguizamo's new play throbs with big laughs and deep poignancy, as well as the infectious Latin beat and manic energy that's become his signature. But it becomes clear that there's a limit to how many times you can go to the same well.

Throughout 'Priscilla,' the three leads don't look male or female but like bizarre aliens. Call me a party pooper, but that was enough to make this supposed frolic a drag.

Throughout 'Priscilla,' the three leads don't look male or female but like bizarre aliens. Call me a party pooper, but that was enough to make this supposed frolic a drag.

On the plus side, Williams brings believability and ample humor to her role, and Riley is perfection. He provides a calm and steady-beating heart, while at the same time hinting at the heat burning below Septimus' cool surface. Less successful is Powley, who has a high-pitched voice that cuts like a serrated knife and obscures her lines. Margaret Colin, as her landscape-obsessed mother, tends to swallow words, too.

Jason Patric (the late author's son), who got soused on Broadway when he played Brick in 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,' hits the bottle again as Sutherland's alcoholic brother. With his eyes permanently squinty and voice filled with silky cynicism, he throws himself into the role — and down the stairs at one point. Patric is well-cast as a former teenage god who's gone to seed, and is the MVP when it comes to giving an interesting performance.

Lindsay-Abaire muddies things with late reveals that make you wonder if, to use Margie's favorite phrase, she or Mike are 'good people.' You'll change your mind and then change it again on both of them.

'The Importance of Being Earnest' turns 116 next month, and the old joker is surprisingly spry. Though the new Broadway revival of Oscar Wilde's satire isn't quite a nonstop delight -- it takes too long to rev up -- it makes for an enjoyable evening.

You can't say John Guare's new play 'A Free Man of Color' isn't ambitious in scope or awash in extravagant eye candy. Or that the huge cast of 33 isn't fully committed. But unfortunately that doesn't add up to a satisfying evening.

Meant to be the season's big happy hummable holiday event, the show never gets there; it feels unfinished and unready for New York. Director-choreographer Casey Nicholaw's resolutely middling production didn't have a regional tryout, but it could be a touring company that shuffled into town.

Language is always key when it comes to the Bard. But Sullivan's excellent production finds eloquence between the lines, too, in two silent scenes. One imagines Shylock's conversion to Christianity as an act of brutal violence. The other is a final tableau of Jessica, seated at water's edge, and Portia, again, in a tower but not camera-ready as she considers her life. The uncertainty etched on their faces speaks says it all; things won't be picture perfect.

If there's a compelling reason for 'The Pee-wee Herman Show' to be on Broadway beyond delivering its gleeful dash of sunny but slightly subversive fun, it's to remind us that things can stay the same in our hearts and heads.

But cramming a couple of thousand years of material into a one-act is no mean feat. He tends to rush, trailing off before he finishes thoughts and sentences. Otherwise, it's a polished act. And with Broadway prices for an act that's just an hour and change, it should be.

The show-stealing performance comes from a laugh-out-loud Laura Benanti, as Candela, a model who's accidentally hooked up with Madrid's most-wanted terrorist. She turns 'Model Behavor,' a song made up of ever more desperate phone calls to Pepa, into a delirious jolt of joy.

'Scottsboro Boys' isn't perfect, but it's worthwhile. It deserves credit for tackling a slice of history that needs to be known.

It's also proof of the Beatles' enduring, generation-crossing cool. In a canny move, 'Rain' showers attention on that fact. Every age group got an appreciative mention, from boomers raised on the Beatles to teens just discovering the group is something to twist and shout about.

It's also proof of the Beatles' enduring, generation-crossing cool. In a canny move, 'Rain' showers attention on that fact. Every age group got an appreciative mention, from boomers raised on the Beatles to teens just discovering the group is something to twist and shout about.

At just 90 minutes, 'Driving Miss Daisy' is a theatrical spin around the block - a pleasantly starlit but unchallenging trip down memory lane.