Matt Windman

While “Elf” can still hardly be considered a great or even good musical (many songs that fail to leave a lasting impression and loads of clunky comic business), the new Broadway production is, I must confess, a crowd-pleasing, feel-good delight that is presented with genuine showmanship, including expansive dance choreography by Liam Steel, whimsical digital projections, and (in a feat reminiscent of the “Back to the Future” musical) Santa’s sleigh flying high above the audience. There are also, of course, obligatory bursts of snow throughout the theater.

The production rides on heavy sensory overload, with intense lighting (which is used to depict location rather than scenery or props), live filming and video projections (with tons of extreme close-ups), smoke and fog effects, monochromatic design, stylized ensemble movement (at one point, the chorus members break into convulsions), and other melodramatic and self-aware gestures. The sound quality of the orchestra is also top-notch, allowing the mostly sung-through score to contribute to the outsized experience.

I initially came away from “The Hills of California” feeling that it is a neatly constructed but derivative family drama that lacked the excitement of Butterworth’s 2018 melodrama “The Ferryman” (another London import directed by Mendes and starring Donnelly) and was subject to meandering scenes full of accusations. But over the next few days, I became increasingly fascinated by the play’s plot mechanisms (which leave a lot of lingering mystery), the psychological damage sustained by each character, and impressed by the shaded performances and meticulous stagecraft.

It took over two decades, but Foster is now finally playing Winnifred in a Broadway revival of “Mattress” based on an Encores! production at City Center from earlier this year. As expected, Foster is sublime, and the production is a tuneful, old-fashioned, flamboyant, altogether blissful romp.

Regretfully, I did not see “Job” during its earlier runs, and I suspect that it was probably more exciting to see it in a more intimate downtown space. On Broadway, the production (as directed by Michael Herwitz) looks empty and the play feels underwritten. It dumps compelling societal concerns upon us, leaves them unexplored, and relies structurally on an uninspired starting point (i.e. confessing to a therapist) and gimmicks.

One might question whether the lengthy prologue enhances or takes away from the musical itself, which together last approximately four hours (imagine sitting through “Macbeth” in its entirety after attending “Sleep No More”) and whether some of the other production choices and characterizations are too extreme. However, it all makes for an exciting, edgy, and painstakingly-detailed production.

This rendition of “The Wiz,” which arrives on Broadway following short engagements in multiple cities and is directed by Schele Williams (“The Notebook”), has the look and feel of a second-rate, low-budget touring production, with tacky, Halloween-quality costumes, limited scenic design (relying heavily on projections), and surprisingly uninspired and generic dance choreography. More thought seems to have gone into the alcoholic drinks available at intermission, including a green-colored frozen margarita.

At its best, “The Outsiders”(which is directed by Danya Taymor, “Pass Over”) is fresh and rambunctious, with an attractive period country-pop score by Jamestown Revival (Jonathan Clay and Zach Chance) and Justine Levine (with plainspoken lyrics and pulsating music reminiscent of Jason Robert Brown), well-executed choreography by Rick Kuperman and Jeff Kuperman (including both rock social dance and intense fight movement), and an industrial design scheme that is seamless and atmospheric. However, the book (by playwright Adam Rapp and Justine Levine), which stays dutifully true to the novel, has difficulty reconciling bursts of excitement with the plotting and character details of the novel, with Brody Grant (who looks far too mature to be playing the sensitive 14-year-old Ponyboy Curtis) slowly narrating exposition to the audience and sentimental solos that stop the show in its tracks. By act two, the show felt like a mechanical procession of plot progression and teen melodrama.

The production truly works best in the town meeting sequence, in which the doctor struggles to communicate his findings to the community. Audience members feel as if they are at the pub where the scene is taking place, with many invited to sit onstage and the rest offered complimentary shots of liquor. The scene also concludes with an act of mob violence (in which ice buckets are poured upon the doctor). It all makes for great environmental theater – and the unexpected addition of the climate change protesters must have made for a rowdy, on-point addition.

For the most part, I found “The Connector” (which runs just under two hours without intermission) to be engrossing (particularly during explosive production numbers in which the protagonist narrates his stories, conjuring colorful and offbeat characters played by Max Crumm and Fergie Philippe) and sharp (with ominous warnings about how the internet and corporate overlords would remake journalism). The performances and the production values (with Brown himself on piano and conducting the band) are all first-rate.

While the musical respects the film’s structure and setting (though the location is moved from San Francisco to New York City) and recycles much of the original dialogue, it proves to be one of the relatively few theatrical adaptations that expands upon its cinematic source material, as seen in how the score (which is grounded in mid-century jazz) artfully captures the characters’ circumstances (including the high-flying, euphoric rush of endless cocktails) and subsequent breakdowns and melancholy.

Over the past year, there have been a number of plays and musicals dealing with anti-Semitism, some more powerfully than others. Harmon (whose prior works include the comedies “Bad Jews,” “Significant Other” and “Admissions”) takes the genre to the next level by not just depicting anti-Semitism or warning against it but in earnestly trying to wrestle with how to respond to it, including the limits of intellectually analyzing it, and whether to fight it or flee for safety.

Unfortunately, “Harmony” contains a weak score, with surprisingly generic and bland music by Manilow (none of which stands up to his wonderfully catchy pop hits), and pedestrian lyrics by Sussman (who also wrote the comparatively stronger book). It does not help that “Harmony” is so similar in setting, manner, and politics to the comparatively superior “Cabaret,” which is about to receive a new Broadway revival. In fact, “Harmony” often feels like a combination of “Cabaret,” “Jersey Boys,” and Rodgers & Hammerstein love duets.

“Here We Are” probably did not merit a full-scale, sleek, starry production – but I suppose that it had to be produced posthumously anyway in tribute to Sondheim, and diehard Sondheim fans such as myself feel as if they have an obligation to check it out.

Rannells and Gad once again make a terrific pair of unlikely pals and earn many laughs. However, “Gutenberg!” was intended to be what the Polish theater theorist Jerzy Grotowski termed “Poor Theater,” built upon minimal production values and maximized imagination. On Broadway, it feels both overdone (with an elaborate set invoking an empty stage, instead of an actual empty stage, and a band instead of a single piano, losing its original charm) and undercooked (a slight, overextended, and rudimentary comic routine).

The production, which has received a few significant visual and musical upgrades since its Off-Broadway debut, is probably the most convincing, coherent, and compelling rendition of “Merrily” to date, making it the best candidate for its Broadway return. For the show’s many devoted fans (of which I am certainly one), this production is not just a triumph but a homecoming and a vindication.

I tried to approach “Once Upon a One More Time” with an open mind but eventually gave in to the reality that all of the songs sound the same (“Oops” and “Hit Me Baby One More Time” are musically indistinguishable), the plotting is draggy and disjointed, he staging (with direction and choreography by Keone Madrid and Mari Madrid) is a hot mess, and the concept has been done before.

In spite of the showmanship, “New York, “New York” is long-winded and undercooked. It has too many characters (which leads to sketchy characterizations and rushed scenes) and its attempt to explore racism of the period feels tacked on. On the whole, “New York, New York” seems overly concerned with trying to advertise itself as a show for tourists who want a feel-good, sanitized look at the city – a far cry from “Chicago” and “Cabaret.”

Not only is 'Peter Pan Goes Wrong' just as good as (and perhaps even better than) 'The Play Goes Wrong,' the fact that it is based on 'Peter Pan' makes it appealing to both children and adults, including my six-year-old son, who roared with laughter from start to finish - and even before the start of the show thanks to preshow activity in which the cast members roam the aisles busily putting stuff together.

The idea of Sorkin revising “Camelot” was intriguing and promising. After all, “The West Wing” was marked by a similar kind of political idealism, and Sorkin’s recent stage adaptation of “To Kill a Mockingbird” was well-received. Unfortunately, his new book (which removes all magical elements, turns Morgan Le Fey as a scientist, and questions how Arthur could have pulled the sword from the stone) is too clumsy and self-conscious in its attempt to draw contemporary parallels and critical viewpoints. Sorkin has also seriously disrupted the integration of the songs and dialogue. There is still much to savor in Sher’s lavish production, including a 30-piece orchestra playing the score and Andrew Burnap’s (“The Inheritance”) deeply-felt performance as Arthur. Phillipa Soo (“Hamilton”) struggles with the high soprano songs but makes for a headstrong Guenevere full of personality. Jordan Donica (“My Fair Lady”) can be stiff but is nevertheless an imposing Lancelot with a robust voice. The period visual design is lean and effective, particularly the suits of armor and cathedral-like arches towering above the stage.

As led by an excellent ensemble cast, the solid production (directed by Saheem Ali) successfully balances the play’s intimate emotional moments, terrific stagecraft (including surprise entrances and exits by the ghost) and far-out comedy.

Given the fact that “Shucked” is directed by no less than Jack O’Brien (one of the country’s most versatile and respected directors, whose many credits include Shakespeare, Stoppard, and “Hairspray”), one would think that there would have been more to “Shucked.” One could try to read into it as a parable of community, commitment, tolerance, and so on, but “Shucked” is really just a lightweight and laborious attempt at resurrecting old-fashioned musical comedy with a country flavor and corn as high as an elephant’s eye.

“Life of Pi” is a most impressive and well-executed piece of theater. It’s a shame that Richard Parker is likely not eligible for a Tony Award nomination for Best Featured Actor in a Play. Then again, one suspects that the artists that brought the tiger and the other animals and visual effects to life will be deservedly recognized.

Well, “Bad Cinderella” (which was originally titled simply “Cinderella” when it premiered in London, which might have caused some consumer confusion) is splashy, campy, lightweight, overcharged, strident, and slight. If not necessarily bad, “Bad Cinderella” (which often feels like “Cinderella” combined with “Shrek” and “Clueless”) isn’t exactly great either.

The Broadway revival of “Parade” originated a few months ago as a week-long production at City Center directed by Michael Arden (who has helmed solid revivals of “Spring Awakening” and “Once On This Island”) and starring Ben Platt as Leo Frank. It was a gripping and thrilling production that was absolutely worthy of a Broadway transfer and has gotten better since then.