Marilyn Stasio — Theater Critic

If they didn't do 'Lady Marmalade,' I was going to storm the stage. Happily, director Alex Timbers and writer John Logan were savvy enough to open their Broadway adaptation of 'Moulin Rouge!' with that crowd-pleasing tune, written by Kenny Noland and Robert Crewe and immortalized by the great Patti LaBelle. But does that mean this stunning live version blots out all fond memories of Baz Luhrmann's 2001 movie starring Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor? No way.

If they didn't do 'Lady Marmalade,' I was going to storm the stage. Happily, director Alex Timbers and writer John Logan were savvy enough to open their Broadway adaptation of 'Moulin Rouge!' with that crowd-pleasing tune, written by Kenny Noland and Robert Crewe and immortalized by the great Patti LaBelle. But does that mean this stunning live version blots out all fond memories of Baz Luhrmann's 2001 movie starring Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor? No way.

In 1987, the play's sub-textual message was a no-brainer. Everyone knew then that playing at sex was playing with fire, and McNally had no reason to spell it out. But because there's no need-to-know subtext to a modern-day production like this one, there's always the danger that the story of Frankie and Johnny might seem shallow because nothing more than a love story is at stake. Nothing more, perhaps, than a love story, but my, how those lovers can love.

Robert Horn (book) and Tony-winner David Yazbek (score) have a high old time poking fun at theatrical rituals - the mortifying auditions, the grueling rehearsals, the agonizing openings, the backstage heartbreak - in this affectionate sendup of a Broadway musical (replacing the movie's soap opera setting) and its uniquely unlikely star. Director Scott Ellis leaves nothing and no one unscathed in staging this satire of a Broadway-bound musical called 'Juliet's Nurse.' From the gaudy Renaissance costumes (by William Ivey Long) to the over-the-top choreography (from Denis Jones), the creatives nail it.

There's no shortage of art and craft in this offbeat show; but there's also a limit to how much goofiness a comedy can support, and Mac may have gone over his limit. The jokes start to feel lame and the crude burlesque routines seem a bit cruel. Is this what happens to clowns when they overreach and do a pratfall? Maybe so. In which case, Mac might do a little bloodletting on his dramatic corpus.

There's no shortage of art and craft in this offbeat show; but there's also a limit to how much goofiness a comedy can support, and Mac may have gone over his limit. The jokes start to feel lame and the crude burlesque routines seem a bit cruel. Is this what happens to clowns when they overreach and do a pratfall? Maybe so. In which case, Mac might do a little bloodletting on his dramatic corpus.

If anyone could play Hillary Clinton, it's Laurie Metcalf - and here she is, in Lucas Hnath's 'Hillary and Clinton,' giving a performance that feels painfully honest and true. And if anyone could capture Bill Clinton's feckless but irresistible charm, that would be John Lithgow - and here he is, too. Who better to work with these actors, sounding the depths of these iconic figures, than director Joe Mantello, who is also on deck.

'Hadestown' triggered a lot of buzz when this wholly American show (which came to the stage by way of a concept album) premiered at Off Broadway's New York Theatre Workshop in 2016. Arriving on Broadway with its earthly delights more or less intact, this perfectly heavenly musical - with book, music and lyrics by Anaïs Mitchell - should stick around for a while.

This isn't a case of redefining a character but of acknowledging a character's secret self. It's no gimmick, then, but a stroke of directorial invention to play some scenes in complete darkness - the better to allow that private self to step out from the shadows and declare itself. In that spirit, Fish exposes those sexual passions that are kept firmly repressed in traditional productions. (In this version, Curly and Laurey are free to enjoy some candid make-out sessions.) The only failure with this let-it-all-hang-out directorial style is the Dream Ballet, which is supposed to hint delicately of the lovers' yearnings but is here allowed to go on ad nauseam.

This isn't a case of redefining a character but of acknowledging a character's secret self. It's no gimmick, then, but a stroke of directorial invention to play some scenes in complete darkness - the better to allow that private self to step out from the shadows and declare itself. In that spirit, Fish exposes those sexual passions that are kept firmly repressed in traditional productions. (In this version, Curly and Laurey are free to enjoy some candid make-out sessions.) The only failure with this let-it-all-hang-out directorial style is the Dream Ballet, which is supposed to hint delicately of the lovers' yearnings but is here allowed to go on ad nauseam.

Shakespeare nailed it: 'Though she be little, she is fierce.' Glenda Jackson may look frail, but the 82-year-old legend performs the noble task of rescuing director Sam Gold's rickety Broadway production of Shakespeare's greatest tragedy. To be sure, the salvage job is all technique. But although Jackson fails to wring tears, let alone blood, from this production, the sheer intelligence of her performance makes it memorable.

It's especially shrewd of her to conclude the show with a literal debate with a high-school orator. Rosdely Ciprian, a 14-year-old freshman, held up her end with admirable ease at the performance this reviewer caught. (Thursday Williams, a senior at William Cullen Bryant High School in Queens, plays the role three nights a week.) Honestly, how great is that?

Although it must have been hard to choose favorites for this show (nothing from 'LoveMusik'?), the scope of Prince's career is smartly represented by the selections and their respectful treatment. There are none of those hateful medleys that make you feel deprived; many shows are represented by two and even three fully staged songs. 'Cabaret' has four selections that, taken together, musically summarize the show. You may wish 'Prince of Broadway' were twice as long, but you won't go away hungry.

The personal anecdotes are interesting, but that librarian story illustrates the main message of this rally - that 'one person out of nowhere can make a revolution.' 'You do make a difference,' Moore insists, urging everyone in his audience to run for local office and work up to higher office. 'I refuse to live in Trump's America!' he swears, bringing the event the closest to a political rally. 'Trump goes!' (wild applause) 'Pence goes! (more thunder).

It's a good play. Honestly, it's a good play. No, I really mean it. This mantra, or something like it, is necessary to keep your faith in 'Marvin's Room,' the mordantly funny play about life and love and death that writer Scott McPherson lived to see premiere at Chicago's Goodman Theater in 1990, two years before he died of AIDS at the age of 33. Despite decent performances, this lugubrious Broadway revival directed by Anne Kauffman for the Roundabout does his dark comedy no favors.

There's nothing subtle about this unrelentingly grim adaptation of a literary sci-fi novel that's been selling like bootleg sex tapes in recent political years. (In the month after Kellyanne Conway's infamous utterance about 'alternative facts,' the book skyrocketed to the top of Amazon's bestseller list.) The catch phrases that chilled your blood when you read the book - 'thought police,' 'newspeak,' 'doublethink,' 'thoughtcrimes,' and, of course, 'Big Brother Is Watching You' - are spoken on stage and projected on screens of a chillingly futuristic set designed by Chloe Lamford.

So, did Godot ever show up? Were George and Martha able to save their marriage? And whatever happened to Nora after she slammed the door? In 'A Doll's House, Part 2,' Lucas Hnath pulls off the dramatic parlor trick of bringing back Ibsen's iconic heroine - in the incomparable person of Laurie Metcalf - to answer that question 15 years later. Despite the modern idiom that Hnath slings around with gleeful humor, it's amazing how women's lives haven't changed.

So, did Godot ever show up? Were George and Martha able to save their marriage? And whatever happened to Nora after she slammed the door? In 'A Doll's House, Part 2,' Lucas Hnath pulls off the dramatic parlor trick of bringing back Ibsen's iconic heroine - in the incomparable person of Laurie Metcalf - to answer that question 15 years later. Despite the modern idiom that Hnath slings around with gleeful humor, it's amazing how women's lives haven't changed.

Despite the vitalizing presence of Allison Janney in director Trip Cullman's elegant revival, 'Six Degrees of Separation' lacks the comic bite of the original production. In its time, John Guare's 1990 social satire about New York sophisticates who are duped by a young black con man was an amusing embarrassment for the city's various tribes of arty intelligentsia. (The story was based on a true incident.) Today, with social barriers considerably more fluid, the con seems quaint. Were sophisticated New Yorkers ever that gullible?

As for the character who looms over everything in this show - the reclusive chocolatier known as Willie Wonka - he's not as dopey as Gene Wilder or as creepy as Johnny Depp. But, as played by Christian Borle (wonderful in 'Something Rotten'), he's much too charming and lacks the aura of stranger-danger that Dahl took care to give him in his story. It's no secret that Warner Brothers has poured considerable cash into this lavish production. That could explain (but won't forgive) the overwhelming emphasis on visual effects, which look like the refined-sugar nightmares of naughty children who consumed a two-pound box of Godiva Chocolates.

Jerry Herman's 1964 musical comedy is one of the great audience shows, so it's a relief to report that helmer Jerry Zaks and choreographer Warren Carlyle have done a great restoration job on the old girl, while refraining from the urge to tart her up for modern tastes. The costumes may be more colorful and the set pieces fussier, but the musical exuberance of the initial production survives intact. So does scribe Michael Stewart's cheerful message (poached from Thornton Wilder) that it's never too late to come in from the cold and march in the great parade of life.

Jerry Herman's 1964 musical comedy is one of the great audience shows, so it's a relief to report that helmer Jerry Zaks and choreographer Warren Carlyle have done a great restoration job on the old girl, while refraining from the urge to tart her up for modern tastes. The costumes may be more colorful and the set pieces fussier, but the musical exuberance of the initial production survives intact. So does scribe Michael Stewart's cheerful message (poached from Thornton Wilder) that it's never too late to come in from the cold and march in the great parade of life.

Linney's Regina is pure Machiavellian cunning, a sly fox waiting for those dumb rabbits to hop into her den. For those family battles, Greenwood has designed her several fashionable sets of armor, one a severely tailored suit and underblouse in a deep, gorgeous shade of teal. Properly suited up, she's a formidable opponent who fights to the death - quite literally in her harrowing scenes with husband Horace (superbly played by Thomas), whom she drags home from the hospital to sign away his money. Linney is ferocious when Regina is thwarted, but she never gives up. She flashes her dimples, she flirts, she bullies, she teases, she commands, she seethes with rage. And when all else fails, she looks you in the eye and says: 'I hope you die.' I don't know about you, but I give up.

Thanks to Taichman's impressionistic direction and David Dorfman's stylized choreography, a troupe of long-slumbering Yiddish actors rise from the ashes and stiffly come to life to play their parts in this drama...This is not a linear production, so scenes in real time bleed into times past and future, and backstage scenes echo scenes within the play...We already know the outcome of their professional arguments. But such is the tension of the production, you want to stand up and warn this brave little troupe to catch that ship before it sails.

Under Matthew Warchus's helming, Phil's adventures in Punxsutawney are like Alice's adventures in Wonderland - fantastical and fun. Rob Howell's set designs and Paul Kieve's illusions rely on amusing optical illusions like miniature car chases and teeny-tiny houses that curl around the proscenium. These funny folk even build a sort-of functional truck on stage.