Joey Sims — Theater Critic

Beyond its intriguing mess of motivations, Majok's quiet, deeply moving play also probes at a deeper question: Who is truly being cared for? Majok is the rare brand of playwright who can take such a broad, potentially soppy theme and probe it with wit and subtlety. Aided here by Jo Bonney's elegant direction and an excellent cast, Majok's 2018 Pulitzer Prize winner is mostly sublime on Broadway, save for a few missteps.

In striping Woods down to its bare essentials, the very brilliant DeBessonet has crafted a near-perfect revival that breathes intoxicating new life into a masterpiece we barely realized needed new life at all. It is a remarkable evening, as effortlessly comforting as it is staggeringly heartbreaking. Honestly, the production is so good that it's oddly hard to review. That's largely because there is no concept to analyze, no take to unpack. DeBessonet just does the show, as matter-of-factly as you've ever seen it done. No frills; no fuss: all heart.

In crafting a work so joyously and painfully honest, playwright, composer and lyricist Michael R. Jackson walks a fine line. A Strange Loop is a carefully structured piece, lean and quick-paced. Yet it is also a manic mess, a frenzied collage that stays true to its central premise of hurtling through the chaotic depths of one man's rage, trauma, and self-hatred. That is Jackson's most awe-inspiring accomplishment with A Strange Loop, which is certainly the best new musical on Broadway this season: he has created a finely honed piece of theater while always remaining true to his own distinct voice.

If Blain-Cruz's vision falters in the play's third act-which certainly is its weakest, though still transcendent in moments-that is because Wilder shifts focus to Mr. Antrobus and Henry (Julian Robertson), far less rewarding characters on the page. This production simply finds more of interest in the play's women. So while Blain-Cruz has wrangled many of the play's impossible contradictions, she has no particular take on the father-son argument which dominates act three (a baffling scene, in which the actors again drop in and out of character), and the production does slow as a result. No matter. The overall achievement of this staging is still titanic, both for its wrangling with an impossible play and its pushing forward of a theater defined by traditions. One can feel the struggle of a creative team (all making LCT debuts, except Blain-Cruz) boldly willing the dried-up gears of an aging apparatus to move in new, exciting ways. Like Wilder's play, the ultimate achievement is messy, imperfect, and seminal.