Michael Dale — Theater Critic

Director Sean Mathias and his talented quartet of actors (they are billed above the title alphabetically as Billy Crudup, Shuler Hensley, Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart) do lovely service to both of them. No big bangs and whistles at the Cort Theatre; just a solidly acted pair of straightforward mountings that, despite all the attention paid to the two more famously named stage artists, serve the playwrights very well.

'Half British music hall and half Grand Guignol - garnished with flavors ofOscar Wilde and Gilbert and Sullivan - Gentleman's Guideis a pocket-sized musical that dazzles with lyrical wit, dark comedic fun and bravura showmanship. Intelligent and merry, all the elements work splendidly from start to finish...Based on Roy Horniman's 1907 novel, Israel Rank (stripped of its arguably anti-Semitic tone), and set in Edwardian London, mellow-voiced Bryce Pinkham is charmingly noble and earnest (but not for long) as Monty Navarro...The riotously versatile Jefferson Mays, not only plays the priggish present earl, Lord Adalbert, but all of the relatives Monty must dispose of in order to replace him...Despite its bloody premise, and the warnings of the opening chorus, A Gentleman's Guide To Love And Murder is quite suitable family fun; a civilized entertainment impeccably presented.

'Half British music hall and half Grand Guignol - garnished with flavors ofOscar Wilde and Gilbert and Sullivan - Gentleman's Guideis a pocket-sized musical that dazzles with lyrical wit, dark comedic fun and bravura showmanship. Intelligent and merry, all the elements work splendidly from start to finish...Based on Roy Horniman's 1907 novel, Israel Rank (stripped of its arguably anti-Semitic tone), and set in Edwardian London, mellow-voiced Bryce Pinkham is charmingly noble and earnest (but not for long) as Monty Navarro...The riotously versatile Jefferson Mays, not only plays the priggish present earl, Lord Adalbert, but all of the relatives Monty must dispose of in order to replace him...Despite its bloody premise, and the warnings of the opening chorus, A Gentleman's Guide To Love And Murder is quite suitable family fun; a civilized entertainment impeccably presented.

But despite added jokes about Obamacare and Rand Paul, 700 Sundays is a memory piece that pretty much remains the warmhearted, moving and extremely funny night out that it was back in 2004...Additional material is supplied by Alan Zweibel and Des McAnuff's direction keeps the evening moving swiftly and seamlessly, but with all due respect to their contributions you're not likely to leave the theatre thinking of anyone else but Billy Crystal. As a performer who has been welcomed into American homes for decades via television appearances, he's once again returning the favor by inviting you to his home.

With all due respect, this is truly an all-star production, and don't you dare think of leaving right after the curtain calls because the biggest stars of the evening are the sensational musicians taki

And if White's text doesn't shine any new light on the subject, the play is engaging enough when matched with Daniel Sullivan's handsome, mostly well-acted production, featuring distinguished visuals by John Lee Beatty (set), Jane Greenwood(costumes) and Japhy Weideman (lights)...Unfortunately, Mary-Louise Parker's wispy and underwhelming performance lacks the necessary depth, often speaking too quickly and softly to be understood. Far more strength and craft is displayed by Victoria Clark as her pragmatic and devout sister, Clarissa, and Danny Burstein as Clarissa's thickly accented German husband, a doctor keeping Elizabeth on medication to sooth her depression.

despite the play's flaws, director Ethan McSweeny turns in a tense and energetic production, featuring a tight ensemble that glosses over the rough patches. James Noone's versatile set, utilizing a tall wood-planked wall and a turntable floor, smoothly glides to multiple locations. Jeff Croiter's lights, Jeff Sugg's projections and Lindsay Jones' sound establish the outside world with visual and audible evidence of Klan rallies, protests and a child's-eye view of the event that sets the story in motion. (The projected epilogue may either warm your heart or make you roll your eyes with its sentimentality.)

Director Lindsay Posner's swift and riveting production comes to Broadway from London's Old Vic. The entirely recast Roundabout staging revolves around a masterful performance by Roger Rees as ailing family patriarch Andrew Winslow. It's a study in subtle details as he valiantly keeps a brave and noble face during the two years the story covers as his health deteriorates, his judgment is questioned and everything he's worked for seems to be crumbling at the latter stages of his life...Though the play never leaves the Winslow drawing room, Rattigan did a remarkable job of keeping suspense and tensions high throughout the evening with detailed descriptions of what was happening in court. This is The Winslow Boy's first Broadway revival since initially visiting in 1947 and Posner's crackling production makes you wonder what took so long.

The one hundred and ten year history of Broadway's Lyceum Theatre has seen nine musicals, a couple of plays with music and a few concert evenings grace its stage. But I doubt if the walls of the classic Beaux-Arts showplace have ever felt any vibrations like the powerful full-throated wails of soulful orgasmic psychodelia emoted from Mary Bridget Davies in the title role of A Night With Janis Joplin...Writer/director Randy Johnson's concert-style musical is not to be lumped in the same category with that trio of Beatles imitation concerts that have played Times Square or other such shows that rely solely on mimicry. The ambition is a little higher here, and while A Night With Janis Joplin has its flaws as drama, as a raucous, hyper-energized tribute to one of American music's great icons, it's a joyful explosion.

Wholesomeness gets a bad rap on Broadway these days, usually regarded as the kind of unbearably sweet and inoffensive entertainment that sophisticated theatergoers must endure while taking their conservative grandmas out for a night on the town...But Big Fish, the new musical that tattoos its heart on its arm, displays no fear in plopping its unabashed wholesomeness right in your lap. Its spirit is steeped in Rodgers and Hammerstein decency that propels an evening that's adventurous, romantic and, yeah, kinda hip. That said, the work of Andrew Lippa (score) and John August (book, based on his own screenplay of Daniel Wallace's novel) is not exactly top shelf musical theatre (although on paper Big Fish easily outclasses any original-run Broadway musical currently on the boards) but director/choreographer Susan Stroman, at the top of her game, whips this warmhearted story into a supremely imaginative and heart-tugging entertainment.

there is a breathtaking display of theatre magic in director John Tiffany's glimmering production. It's the kind of magic that enthralls an audience when a masterful play is interpreted with sensitive, theme-enhancing imagination and acted out to perfection by an extraordinary ensemble of actors...The poet, not at all at ease with his past, is played with affection tinged with a sardonic edge by Zachary Quinto...Cherry Jones is arguably the finest American stage actor of our time and revivals of classics come to Broadway specifically so that artists such as her may make indelible marks in their leading roles. Here she is simply magnificent. Her Amanda Wingfield - part canary, part bulldozer - protects her delicate emotions with a brash, muscular exterior...Celia Keenan-Bolger, who has essayed an admirable collection of New York performances as spunky and intelligent girls and young women, has never been better than in her heartbreaking portrayal of Laura.

there is a breathtaking display of theatre magic in director John Tiffany's glimmering production. It's the kind of magic that enthralls an audience when a masterful play is interpreted with sensitive, theme-enhancing imagination and acted out to perfection by an extraordinary ensemble of actors...The poet, not at all at ease with his past, is played with affection tinged with a sardonic edge by Zachary Quinto...Cherry Jones is arguably the finest American stage actor of our time and revivals of classics come to Broadway specifically so that artists such as her may make indelible marks in their leading roles. Here she is simply magnificent. Her Amanda Wingfield - part canary, part bulldozer - protects her delicate emotions with a brash, muscular exterior...Celia Keenan-Bolger, who has essayed an admirable collection of New York performances as spunky and intelligent girls and young women, has never been better than in her heartbreaking portrayal of Laura.

Regrettably, it's the stage-long row of flames that rises from the floor and makes the occasional dramatic cameo that provides any kind of heat in director David Leveaux's soggy production of Romeo and Juliet. Despite the presence of some fine actors who manage to light some sparks here and there, this gimmicky rendering of Shakespeare's tale of adolescent lust gone tragic is curiously lacking in tension, passion, romance and, for some cast members, clear diction.

If more of Soul Doctor was like that warm, darkly humorous and hesitantly emotional scene, the musical would be far more interesting than the awkward and clichéd point-by-point biography occupying Circle In The Square after a stint Off-Broadway and a regional tour...Soul Doctor may have a decent share of enjoyable moments, and sometimes even moving ones. But a housecall from a show doctor is definitely in order.

Zachary Levi is adorably nervous and quirky as finance guy Aaron...Krysta Rodriguez's Casey is the kind of sardonically sexy indie/arty type that intimidates the hell out of Aaron. But if their romantic chemistry seems lacking, their comedic chemistry crackles incessantly via Rodriguez's deadpan reactions to Levi's hilarious lack of game...Staged with wacky buoyancy by director Bill Berry, this is the kind of musical that'll have you remembering the funny moments more than the melodies, but if it's true what they say about a sense of humor being the most attractive quality in a mate, First Date offers up a terrific match.

More of a supper club floor show than the usual theatre fare, the elegantly-mannered onstage eleven piece orchestra, led by Víctor Lavallén, features four gentlemen playing the bandoneón, the traditional concertina-type instrument. In fact, the show's primary dance team, Victoria Galoto and Juan Paulo Horvath, both make their entrances out of an oversized replica of the instrument.

With its high-profile stars and subject matter, The Mountaintop is likely to be a big commercial success, but if this one is awarded the Tony come June, it will mean we've indeed suffered through a sad and sorry Broadway season.

The sad reality of Broadway is that, because this is a limited run that will close long before the season's finish, it's unlikely this production will be up for any Tony Awards. But Tyne Daly's performance in this sturdy mounting is certainly bound to be one of the highlights of the season.

If you know who Vince Lombardi is, the play is most likely exactly what you'd expect it to be: a portrait of decent, honorable figure who earns the devotion of his players by tough-loving them into the best they're capable of being. If you don't know who he is, you can simply disregard the scattered names from the past and sprinklings of sports jargon, and Lombardi stands as self-explanatory. Just remember that if you hear a few chuckles and/or applause for some seemingly random lines ('We didn't lose; we just ran out of time.') it's because the evening does embrace quite a few beloved sports clichés; but Lombardi is such an earnest play that the clichés seem perfectly natural in context.

Stewart doesn't hide the large degree of ego-massaging motivating Robert's tutorials, as though he takes special delight in having mastered the role of the wise, old mentor. But his hammyness is cured with a seasoned charm. Knight plays it straight for most of the piece, but succeeds in the subtler job communicating how John's gratitude for veteran's attention gradually dissolves as he recognizes the man behind his off-stage character and grows more distant as his confidence builds and others recognize his own talent.

While Shaw's politics might be easily spotted on the sleeves of his leading ladies, the eventual clash between mother and daughter sets off theatrical sparks with exciting immediacy. Mrs. Warren's Profession may no longer shock, but Hawkins, Jones and Hughes still provide plenty of electricity.

While Shaw's politics might be easily spotted on the sleeves of his leading ladies, the eventual clash between mother and daughter sets off theatrical sparks with exciting immediacy. Mrs. Warren's Profession may no longer shock, but Hawkins, Jones and Hughes still provide plenty of electricity.

In its limited run, Time Stands Still was one of last season's best new plays and among the most satisfying evenings on Broadway. Its return open run, with Ricci's replacement of Alicia Silverstone the only cast change and the three returning actors giving even richer performances, is bound to be among this season's cream as well.

Even if the story of a chance to elevate one's self from a dangerous, working-class life through art sounds a bit too much like Billy Elliot, Hall's other current Broadway offering, The Pitmen Painters is a far superior piece with a strong emotional pull; its heart pumping primarily from the sensitive Oliver Kilbourn (the excellent Christopher Connel), the most talented of the bunch, who is timid about this new world that is not only accepting him but is offering an opportunity to become a benefactor's fully-supported resident painter. Though there is much of the expected fish-out-of-water humor, especially when the boys first encounter modern art, Hall also develops a good deal of empathy as their skills, as well as competitiveness, develop. Since this is a British play, issues of class and labor threaten to bog down the darker second act with its heavy-handed presentation; the time might be better spent showing the early artistic progress of the group (they seem too good too soon) and exploring more of their day-to-day lives in the mines.

Proving once more that Noel Coward wrote sexier scenes for clothed people that most playwrights could with naked ones, the evening's steamy highlight comes in a moment where Yelland and Sturrock, alone together at last, finally reach the 'will we or won't we' point. With the company singing Stu Barker's soft ukulele arrangement of 'Go Slow, Johnny' in the background, the tension is elegantly unbearable.