Matt Windman — Theater Critic

'Pass Over' is not for everyone - or even most people - but it is for those who are ready and willing to take in a raw, incendiary, and challenging (though often entertaining and gripping) piece of contemporary theater. I admire the play tremendously while also finding it to be repetitive, uncomfortable, and bewildering. I've really missed shows like this.

Kitchen sink drama is beautifully intermixed with approximately 20 Bob Dylan songs in 'Girl from the North Country,' a haunting, mysterious and stunning new musical written and directed by Irish playwright Conor McPherson and set in Duluth, Minnesota (Dylan's hometown) during the Depression. It has arrived on Broadway following earlier runs in London and Off-Broadway at the Public Theater.

I may spend the rest of my life trying to make sense of Ivo van Hove's reconcieved and avant-garde, rough and raw revival of 'West Side Story.' In spite of many interesting ideas, it is a muddled, self-conscious, pretentious, humorless, dizzying, bewildering mess, in which the show's memorable songs and youthful romance get lost in the midst of brutal violence and overwhelming video imagery.

Some scenes depicting Davenport's fact-finding and investigation can be dry and clunky. But under Leon's sharp and ensemble-oriented direction, the play's cultural and political dimensions take on extended emphasis, bringing the gap between World War II-era America and the present day in its exploration of the effects of racism and the need to confront uncomfortable facts and arrive at the truth.

Had the novel been converted into a straightforward, multi-actor drama, many would probably have complained that Strout's meditative authorial voice got lost in the process. But in its current form, 'My Name is Lucy Barton' is not unlike a glorified, live audio book. Coincidentally or not, it was just announced that an audio version of the play with Linney will soon be released.

At my performance on Tuesday night, Connick (wearing a tux and clutching a wireless microphone) at first looked stiff and dazed and sounded wobbly. His remarks to the audience about Porter were effusive but rudimentary. Attempts to turn some songs into dramatic scenes (set in such locales as an underground New Orleans bar or a lonely hotel room) were corny and dull. But as the concert progressed, Connick became more at ease and segued into his persona as a smooth, Sinatra-style crooner. He was most in his element while playing at the piano alongside the band, instead of trying to be a showman. Connick also seemed to enjoy leading a behind-the-scenes tutorial about how he arranged and orchestrated Porter's 'Night and Day.'

Even if Diablo's script feels overstuffed (a few uncomfortable sequences could probably be cut) and derivative (especially of the 2009 Pulitzer-winning musical 'Next to Normal'), it is character-sensitive and willing to delve into difficult and timely cultural issues such as opioid addiction, #MeToo, racial and gender identity and victim shaming. It also contains a lot of humor, such as when an English class debates the lyrics of 'Ironic.'

It is tempting to compare 'The Inheritance' with Tony Kushner's masterwork 'Angels in America,' which is also a two-part, six-act, roughly seven-hour drama centered on AIDS, historical connections, and politics. However, 'The Inheritance' very much stands on its own as a separate work with a very different sensibility, and I strongly suspect that it will soon join 'Angels in America' in the pantheon of great gay dramas.

Directed by Phyllida Lloyd, who more or less launched the jukebox musical phenomenon with 'Mamma Mia!', the production is related muted, with emphasis placed on the character drama. The ensemble does little besides adding back-up singing and functions like window dressing. The full expanse of the stage is also concealed until the very end.

Turbulence takes over and a president's ambitious domestic agenda gets derailed by overwhelming racial prejudice and an out-of-control foreign war in 'The Great Society' - a long-winded but action-packed roller-coaster of a historical drama by Robert Schenkkan examining the final years of the presidency of Lyndon Baines Johnson, from his 1964 election through the inauguration of Richard Nixon four years later.

'The Height of the Storm' is essentially a fuzzier, opaque reworking of Zeller's 'The Father,' which also depicted an elderly man named André (then played by Frank Langella) suffering from severe dementia in an intense and jarring manner. The principal difference is that 'The Height of the Storm,' in taking on a jumbled structure and always trying to play games with the audience, feels thin, repetitive and too conceptual.

I am hard-pressed to think of a better production of a Harold Pinter drama to play New York in over a decade than this sharp and absorbing London revival of 1978's 'Betrayal.' Directed by Jamie Lloyd, the relationship drama stars Tom Hiddleston (Loki in the Marvel Cinematic Universe), Charlie Cox ('Daredevil') and Zawe Ashton ('Velvet Buzzsaw'). All three are making their Broadway debuts.

Both performances have become more focused and effective since the Off-Broadway run. Haunted and hurt, Sturridge gently relives a traumatizing experience as if participating in a group-therapy session. On the other hand, Gyllenhaal gets to have more fun and be far more energetic, at various points even running through the audience and playing bits of John Lennon's 'Imagine' on a piano. The lean production (directed by Carrie Cracknell, who has extensive London credits) hearkens back to the most basic elements of narrative storytelling and sharing of life experiences. And as in Greek tragedy, it produces a genuine sense of catharsis for audience members.

Despite an ornate and environmental visual design depicting a turn-of-the-century Parisian nightclub, first-rate leading actors (including Tony winner Karen Olivo, Aaron Tveit and Danny Burstein) and an updated/upgraded jukebox of hit singles to play around with, 'Moulin Rouge!' is not unlike earlier botched, inherently problematic attempts at bringing visually distinct movie musicals to the stage. Think 'The Wizard of Oz' and 'Singin' in the Rain.'

As one would expect given their impressive bodies of work, McDonald and Shannon deliver superb performances that combine hyper comedy with underlying vulnerability. However, the revival is misconceived physically, with a lighting grid stationed far too low below the actors and a flimsy exterior backdrop, which affects the extent to which the audience is drawn into the play.

The cast is solid, including a pepped-up and gravely-voiced Brightman, assertive Caruso and delightfully dorky McClure and Butler. By not taking it seriously, 'Beetlejuice' may very well offer a reasonably fun time at the theater. But don't we expect better than that?

Using digital imagery, hazy lighting and a unit set resembling a pyramid of metal desks and filing cabinets, Goold's production moves fluidly and is consistently, engrossing, entertaining and disturbing - particularly when Carvel's Murdoch hints at a future of social media, cable news and misrepresenting the best interests of the general public.

The writers deserve some credit for not blindly following the film and making changes to the setting and dialogue in an attempt to better suit it to a new medium, but the resulting product is substandard.

: Directed by three-time Tony winner Jack O'Brien ('Hairspray,' 'Henry IV,' 'The Coast of Utopia'), this revival gets to the heart of Miller's writing and brings out increasingly intense and layered performances, making for highly compelling and confrontational theater. Period costumes, an extensive exterior set design and video projections between scenes further enrich a fine production.

Were it not for Lane's participation, 'Gary' might have premiered instead at the Public Theater or another Off-Broadway venue open to its combination of Shakespeare, physical comedy and sincerity. One can't help but admire Lane's willingness to take part in an unpredictable new work instead of another revival. He gives an absolutely committed performance as a sad and sensitive clown/struggling everyman while being backed by two superb comic actresses.

As directed by Joe Mantello (whose numerous Broadway credits include the recent revivals of 'Three Tall Women' and 'The Boys in the Band'), Metcalf and Lithgow (each a two-time Tony winner) give performances that are vulnerable but otherwise forgettable in the context of their distinguished careers. But what can you expect from asking them to play the Hillary and Bill Clinton of 'one of those other planet Earths'?

Directed by Rachel Chavkin ('Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812'), 'Hadestown' contains a stunning visual design evoking both a New Orleans barroom scene and a smoldering mechanical underworld, complemented by the motion of turntables, a rollicking band, bold performances and expressive dance choreography. Whereas the previous Off-Broadway production was performed in the round, no impact has been lost in the transition to a traditional proscenium theater. The score - which contains airy folk-pop for the lovers and a livelier jazz idiom for the denizens of the underworld - comes off as distinctive and authentic by Broadway standards. Many of the songs are reflective in nature, which leads to some slow points, especially in Act Two. But, more often than not, 'Hadestown' is exciting, compelling and beautiful.

However, Russell and Driver lack the nuanced interplay and explosive electricity necessary to make the drama (which is rather thin and has lost shock value over the years) come alive. Despite frequent laughs from Uranowitz, the production becomes increasingly static and empty over the course of two and a half hours of long-winded scenes.

But for the most part, this production succeeds thanks to revealing and vulnerable performances all around, immersive intimacy (with the theater made to feel like a wooden communal hall), cute touches (including offering free chili and cornbread at intermission), a streamlined flow and new bluegrass-style orchestrations that work surprisingly well.

Jackson's performance (androgynous, sharp and emphatic) is superb - at first. Beginning with the famous storm sequence, her transition into Lear's state of madness is underwhelming. She essentially remains the same as before, just a bit sillier and looser. Similarly, the production as a whole loses impact as it goes along, owing to its extended length and the fact that many of its original flourishes begin to lose their luster and feel strained and disjointed.