Mark Kennedy

While acknowledging that the show is about a self-consciously rambling and absurdist hero, the bloated 90-minute Act 1 threatens to derail as visual gags, projections and busy scenes - plus a book that uneasily mixes whimsy and cancer - bombard the senses....Butz proves he's simply in a league of his own, able to switch from middle-aged to teenager in a snap, offering a complex portrait of a Southern man while avoiding good 'ol boy cliches, and he even spends some of the night lying in a hospital bed, not the most expected way to lead a musical. But then there are lots of other fun surprises at 'Big Fish,' including elephant fannies.

The way Laura makes her entrance in the new Broadway production of 'The Glass Menagerie' is jaw-droppingly brilliant. She emerges from out of the middle of a sofa, as if being born anew. It's a tip that a thrilling night at the theater awaits. There's magic from start to finish at the Booth Theatre, where the new production of Tennessee William's great play about regret opened Thursday starring a superb Cherry Jones and a revelatory Zachary Quinto. It's evocative, sometimes surreal and sublimely organic - the perfect package for a play about faded and frayed memories...Director John Tiffany, scenic designer Bob Crowley, lighting designer Natasha Katz and choreographer Steven Hoggett - who all made the musical 'Once' so special - have done it again, blurring text and music and movement into a fresh and flowing, intimate staging.

Credit David Leveaux with trying to make Shakespeare cool, even if this uneven production sometimes misses the mark by falling in love with its visual effects...Bloom and his Juliet, the rising star Condola Rashad, sometime seem out of synch emotionally, but both give it their all, the stage veteran Rashad emerging better than her opposite, a relative theatrical novice...Bloom, a matinee idol, too often appears like a squinty, aging boy band member, while Rashad embraces a coltish, youthful impulsiveness. They are terrific when they kiss, and they do so with a frequency perfectly in synch by their characters' savage love. But when they're apart, the weight of these roles seems to push them down.

Paulus has transformed the players into a troupe of circus performers, and it's a stroke of genius. It allows for a Big Top theme - think fire jugglers, teeterboards, knife throwing and contortionists - but also teases out the wandering nature of the mysterious players and zooms up the physicality of the story...She's also managed to tease out the connection between the intricate dance style of the late Fosse - Chet Walker choreographs this in the master's style - with the equally meticulous needs of acrobatics...Miller has got a manic grin on her face, sings with power and has a menacing air. She proves perfectly suited to Fosse's complicated footwork...Matthew James Thomas...announces himself as a new Broadway leading man. He's got the looks, the lungs and the abs, all of which the audience gets to enjoy multiple times.

There are some overlaps between 'I'll Eat You Last' and 'Lucky Guy,' the stage biography of journalist Mike McAlary, starring Tom Hanks. Both require some knowledge of the world they are showing and both look sadly on a lost time that was more freewheeling and fun. 'I guess that's what's changed about Hollywood most. We used to laugh more. Honey, we used to have fun,' Midler says. 'Trust me, you'll miss me when I'm gone.'

The casting here is splendid. Not only is Tyson feisty and funny and glowing with inner light, but her co-stars prove more than compelling: Vanessa Williams is politely savage as her preening daughter-in-law, icy without becoming a dragon. Cuba Gooding Jr., making his Broadway debut as her son, nails the kind man unfortunately caught in the middle of these two women. And the rising talent Condola Rashad, as a soldier's wife, turns a small role into a star turn...Michael Wilson...lets the words and action flow with a genuine gentleness and respect that allows each eye roll, shuffle and sigh to have its maximum impact. The care and love all the creators have for this play pours out from the stage.

In a gentle Irish accent, Shaw is at turns mournful and at others table-flipping angry. Director Deborah Warner, a frequent Shaw collaborator, puts the actress on the constant move...This Mary is prone to menacing anger and sharp screams, suffering from simmering trauma and guilt...In a season of one-man shows on Broadway...Shaw may have one of the more controversial, rolling her eyes at apostles and dismissing them as if they were weirdoes her son met smoking funny cigarettes at Bonnaroo. She also must reveal a mother's horrific anguish at watching the brutal death of her son. Shaw is up to the task for both, even if the production seems littered with half-baked ideas.

If it's not clear by now, what Cumming is doing at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre is delivering a tour-de-force that redefines the term...While there is no doubt about Cumming's ability - he cowers, he acts menacing, he strips down, he leaps in and out of a full bathtub and smears himself in gore - there is a feeling that while this is an act of Olympic skill, it's also partly a freak show...The original moments of ingenuity are still here and they make this 'Macbeth' impossible to stop watching..But while Cumming generates pathos, and even sometimes sharp laughter, from his audience, the staging - no matter how inventive - doesn't always add meaning to Shakespeare's play.

It is what it is, and it does that very well. It's a big, loud rock opera and makes no apologies for itself. Nor should it...The new version that opened Thursday at the Marquis Theatre - arriving 16 years after its debut - takes itself so seriously that it almost veers into camp, but it's a stunningly beautiful steampunk vision with great costumes, projections and sets. Plus, the three main vocalists who came along to sing these Frank Wildhorn songs will make your ears bleed: Constantine Maroulis, Deborah Cox and Teal Wicks. Who cares if there's way too much lightening and overacting?

Lyle Kessler's play 'The Orphans' is apparently the kind of thing movie stars fight to be in. But it's not always clear why we have to fight to get a ticket. It's a testosterone-laden darkly humorous piece that offers three great parts - a mentally challenged young man, a bubbling eruption of male anger and a cool-as-ice older dude - but generates little light. This is a play more fun to act in than watch...The biggest problem here is that the three actors are determined to be in different plays and director Daniel Sullivan hasn't been able to make them gel. Perhaps there wasn't enough time.

The latest work by playwright Richard Greenberg is a beautiful and touching look at the inner workings of a well-to-do family, their mistakes and the stories that bind them...Lynne Meadow directs with superb skill, keeping the tension rising while allowing the actors all the room to show their gifts...With a breathy, calm and happy demeanor, Hecht is addictive to watch...There are few more poignant scenes than the play's final one, in which wistfulness and hope collide, thanks to some superb acting and writing. It's worth aging 20 years to see.

During a two-hour concert at the Richard Rodgers Theatre, the four - Felix Cavaliere on keyboard and vocals, singer Eddie Brigati, drummer Dino Danelli and guitarist Gene Cornish - seem to have taken musical Viagra. Brigati gleefully smashed two tambourines against his thigh and Cornish playfully threw guitar picks into the crowd. These pioneers of blue-eyed soul were having fun and that became infectious.

Being true to oneself is a key issue in Clifford Odets' dark play, 'The Big Knife,' written in 1948 during the flush of postwar success, when America's focus turned toward capitalism. A strong, noirish production starring Bobby Cannavale opened Tuesday night on Broadway, presented by Roundabout Theatre Company. Doug Hughes stages repeated dynamic moments during the period drama, smartly retaining much of Odets' stilted yet colorful dialogue. The more seasoned cast members relish their opportunities to melodramatically sneer, flounce and bluster as required.

Directed with subtlety and tenderness by Jack O'Brien, this is a bittersweet tale of repression and rebellion wrapped up in a valentine to a lost theatrical art form...Lane as the tortured soul at the play's heart is magnificent -- showing sides that are charming, witty, savage, self-destructive and yearning...One of the best scenes is toward the end when a self-loathing Miles returns to the stage in full-on drag. He has dropped The Nance act and is playing an old whore named Hortense. Lane is still funny but seems thoroughly and unbearably broken. It is heartbreaking.

The 2 1/2-hour show, about Motown Records under founder Berry Gordy, opened Sunday at The Lunt-Fontanne Theatre completely unbalanced: The songs are staggering, the book utterly flimsy. Both are due to one man: Gordy, who clearly knows what makes an indelible hit song, but also has an inability to write objectively about that skill. As the book writer, Gordy comes across almost divine, a true visionary who literally changed the world and race relations but was eventually abandoned by the artists he made stars when they sought to cash in. There are parts of the show that even a North Korean dictator would find excessively flattering.

The English hit 'Matilda,' which opened Thursday at Shubert Theatre, is a witty musical adaptation of the beloved novel by Roald Dahl and is true to his bleak vision of childhood as a savage battleground. The musical arrives in New York with plenty of hype and awards, and it mostly delivers a thrilling blast of nasty fun, even if it's a bit swollen and in need of some fine-tuning. It also has come with perhaps its most grotesque masterstroke: Bertie Carvel as the fearsome cross-dressing school headmistress Miss Trunchbull.

The show that opened Thursday at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre is so full of good will - did you expect anything less from Lauper or Fierstein? - that only a curmudgeon could walk out and not want to hug the crowds in Times Square, even the sketchy ones in cartoon costumes. True, the second half is almost completely unnecessary, the English accents are laughable and the footwear puns are relentless. But who cares? This is a big ol' sweet love story about sons, the families we make and red patent leather...the real star is Porter, who delivers a touching, sassy, nuanced performance, often in 8-inch heels. One character sums up his importance to this show by saying, 'Whenever you leave a room, there's always a great big gaping gap.' Amen.

Nora Ephron's last play is about the world of New York tabloids, and it's a lot like the messy subject she looks at - overindulgent, overstuffed and raucous. That's its charm as well as its undoing...Hanks, making his Broadway debut, is classic Hanks - lovable, touching and funny...After 16 scenes over two hours, McAlary emerges as a complex figure, both self-aggrandizing and yet also someone who genuinely seems to want to 'right wrongs'...Ephron seems to be bewitched by this lovable scamp. But the play leaves little lasting impression, like a day-old tabloid.

'Hands on a Hardbody,' a seemingly far-fetched stage show based on a documentary that features songs co-written by Phish frontman Trey Anastasio, stars a modified Aztec red Nissan. By the end of the show, you'll swear that truck can dance. You might, too. Anastasio and Broadway veteran Amanda Green have written a soundtrack of mostly fine songs in a nice mix of styles - blues, gospel, country and honky-tonk - that will fire you right up. Playwright Doug Wright has had some fun himself, the cast is committed and realistic, and the whole thing is a pleasing, tuneful, heart-filled ode to small towns and American dreams.

The cat is just one of the problems in this ill-conceived and poorly executed adaptation of a classic American tale that opened Wednesday at the Cort Theatre...The many scenes stubbornly refuse to add up to much and it remains as flat as Golightly is supposed to be effervescent. Richard Greenberg's adaptation of Truman Capote's classic 1958 novella is extremely faithful - some chunks of dialogue have been lifted directly from the book - without adding much. Actually, director Sean Mathias has tacked on more complexity to scenes for reasons that are unclear...Come to think of it, maybe the cat can be forgiven for bad behavior. It has, after all, had to sit through too much of this.

Sigourney Weaver, a longtime collaborator with Durang, plays Masha with flamboyant overacting. She's clearly having a ball; the whole cast is.... Director Nicholas Martin thankfully doesn't rush things, allowing the actors the freedom to extend a scene just a little further with merely a look....It's all a bit silly, a tad daffy and very, very sweet. Thankfully, for a show that both lampoons and honors Chekhov's themes, it doesn't end with the sadness that usually dominates that revered playwright's work. In fact, you can hear the Beatles sing 'Here Comes the Sun.'

Taylor's Richards is a hoot yet she almost gets upstaged by another character, which is hard to do in a one-woman show. But two purring phone calls between her and Clinton are some of the play's highlights, perhaps proving that only Clinton can outshine Ann Richards.

What's this happening in Cinderella's magical kingdom? Is that a challenge to absolute monarchy we hear amid the romance and dancing? My goodness, it is: There's a demand for democracy. Children, there's even a call for economic justice. What kind of fairy tale is this? In the hands of playwright Douglas Carter Beane, a quite fine one actually.... Beane has succeeded, proving he may be Cinderella's real fairy godmother. His script crackles with sweetness and freshness, combining a little 'Monty Python's Spamalot' with some 'Les Miserables.'

Whether all the sound effects are meant to enhance the performances onstage or cover up the acting is unclear. What's not unclear is that an unnecessarily noisy production opened Thursday at the Richard Rodgers Theatre...Scarlett Johansson turns in a nifty turn as Maggie, finding humor and barely hidden desperation in her role as frustrated wife and mother-to-be. She's less overtly sexy than other actresses who have played the ironic role, making her Maggie more cerebral, angry and proud. Benjamin Walker, as her husband Brick, is slow to boil but savage when he does, a former athlete turned into a languid hunk of beef who sits on the edges of the stage avoiding conversation and hiding in a bottle. They have little chemistry at first - but that's kind of the point.

The play - so buffed and polished it now seems to squeak - is matched by a searing, brilliant performance by Laurie Metcalf, who is simply astonishing as she goes from snippy, bossy scientist to a broken, confused intruder wolfing down Chinese food on the floor. Director Joe Mantello keeps up a blistering pace - snippets of scenes dissolve into another, past and present collide. Speed is important to keep the audience guessing, but it leaves no room for a moment's error. Mantello proves as sharp as the narrator is unreliable.