Michael Sommers — Theater Critic

Danny Sharon, the director, neatly stages the ebb, flow, and full stops of Haddad’s ultra-theatrical presentation at the 200-seat Martinson Hall. The Public Theater apparently has opened its storage units and checkbook to provide a smartly designed event. Led by Haddad’s sunshiny persona as Ryan, the confident ensemble of good actors is especially distinguished by Michael Cristofer’s touching performance as a cultivated gent facing the abyss, and also includes Beth Malone, underemployed in a role as a clear-eyed friend. Everybody capably rolls along with the meta-theatrics of the play and its production.

More crucial was an adequate but not especially compelling performance by Jon Beavers as Yank. Admittedly, Yank is a technically challenging character to portray between his many extended speeches, its awkward dis-and-dat waterfront lingo, and the need to project a soulfulness beneath a brutish exterior, so an actor has much to accomplish. It is possible in future performances, of course, Beavers will develop into a more vocally and emotionally varied Yank. Still, much as the make-up designer may try to dirty up his good looks, Beavers, although a strapping fellow, does not physically suggest any kind of an ape.

Stretches of Udofia’s complex, often lyrical, modern-day drama escaped me entirely. Whether such befuddlement stems from the limits of my boomer background or to Udofia’s magical dramaturgy, or possibly both, it is obvious much care and craft have gone into both the play and its glossy LCT3 production at the Claire Tow Theater.

Its downbeat nature and frank sexuality make Degenerates an unlikely work for popularity, but likely second stages among the more daring regional theaters will produce it in the future, but probably not as smartly as staged here and now at Playwrights Horizons.

The opening play is broadly written as a domestic farce. The second and most ambitious work in the series sketches out a crude satirical cartoon with a nasty finish involving a shrill rendition of Ave, Maria and a brandished speculum. Beyond their dubious humor, these overextended one-acts intend to comment seriously upon women being forced to submit to misguided patriarchal authority.

Much of this sad but true U.S. history—accompanied by TED talk–style timeline graphics presenting years such as 1776, 1619, and 1492—likely will prove familiar to the adult demographic who attend productions at TFANA. Trying not to wave an admonishing finger, Jones delivers platitudinous observations (“You can’t pretend that good is all that exists and ignore the rest”) with all the considerable talent and empathy she can muster as an artist, but stretches of her material are scarcely revelatory, let alone stirring or memorable.

A poignant study of a modern American woman dealing with emotional and social troubles in the aftermath of domestic assault, Pre-Existing Condition scored enthusiastic reviews in its premiere at the Connelly Theater in the far East Village in 2024. Directed again by Maria Dizzia, Marin Ireland’s quietly insightful drama opened Monday at Greenwich House for a limited engagement extending into the new year at the 199-seat theater.

Subsequent performances of Garry Starr: Classic Penguins are likely to vary somewhat according to the whims of the audience, of course, but director Cal McCrystal coordinates some apt, effective sound and lighting cues to enhance this quick series of vignettes driven energetically by Damien Warren-Smith’s comical mad professor-type character. Warren-Smith’s ability to work strategically with individuals as well as a crowd is a treat to witness, although the gamier aspects of his performance will not appeal to conservative tastes.

Like an amusement park ride ascending an incline, the first act of Paranormal Activity deals out a gradual build-up of backstory detail and stormy night-type creepiness, prickly with relatively minor jump scares and climaxing with – well, let’s reveal no more but simply note this second act possesses even more backstory but also delivers some twists, turns and stage tricks that scared up highly audible responses from Saturday night’s preview crowd.

To stage Broad Strokes, Alex Timbers, the inventive Tony Award-winning director of Moulin Rouge! The Musical and Peter and the Starcatcher, among numerous other major league events, capitalizes on Cohen’s characteristically self-dramatizing manner to present the comedian in mock-Gothic romance environs. Top of the line designers Derek McLane (scenic), Kelsey Randall (costume), Jake DeGroot (lights) and Cody Spencer (sound) showcase the raven-tressed lady grandly clad in puffy, grape-colored satin furbelows amid lurid blue, purple and green surroundings suggesting Game of Thrones more than The Pitt. A curious visual decision, perhaps, but Cohen’s humorous matters of life or death certainly deserve some other-worldly grandeur,

The emotional and sexual confusion of early adolescence partly forms the story of The Saviors, but Bubba Weiler’s tender new drama rises beyond mere teen angst to develop a higher theme about compassion. Premiering on Monday, Atlantic Theater Company’s production is gracefully staged by Jack Serio at the Linda Gross Theater, which was built as a church and now neatly accommodates a contemporary American play set mostly around the sanctuary of a modest Roman Catholic church.

Nettles has written for herself a demanding if rewarding role as a valiant soul whose desire to protect her loved ones and friends in dangerous times somehow warps into mass murder. If that critical storytelling point in Guilia remains hazy, Nettles and her glowing score override the question by the warmth of her personality and the agreeable music she offers. The confidence and ebullience of the production’s excellent 13-member ensemble succeed in making Giulia certainly play like a hit show, even though it obviously remains a work in progress.

That said, to my old-school taste, the ambitious A Woman Among Women registers mostly as a terribly talky, at times even tedious, theater exercise that fails to engage pity or any emotion other than occasional confusion over who some of these people may be and what’s their relationship to the heroine, and why should I care?

An achingly beautiful new blend of drama and music, Girl, Interrupted has been exquisitely crafted from Susanna Kaysen’s memoir regarding the many months she spent as a teenager in a psychiatric facility. Readers of Kaysen’s story (unlike me) can judge how faithfully the original is followed, but the strange musical loveliness and abiding sensitivity of this play infused with a dozen or so striking songs will soon be obvious to anyone who sees the very fine production that premiered Thursday at the Public Theater.

An achingly beautiful new blend of drama and music, Girl, Interrupted has been exquisitely crafted from Susanna Kaysen’s memoir regarding the many months she spent as a teenager in a psychiatric facility. Readers of Kaysen’s story (unlike me) can judge how faithfully the original is followed, but the strange musical loveliness and abiding sensitivity of this play infused with a dozen or so striking songs will soon be obvious to anyone who sees the very fine production that premiered Thursday at the Public Theater.

Then there are Mahira Kakkar, Eva Kaminsky and Patrick Kerr, popping up as late-arriving theatergoers who morph into vaguely defined commentators along the edges of the story who may also represent The Fates or gods, but anyway are agreeable company. Viewers conversant with Wilder’s works are likely to enjoy speculating on such possibilities, as with other puzzling aspects here. A worthwhile attempt to piece together an ambitious drama despite its missing, unknown or conflicting parts, The Emporium remains an unfulfilled promise of an expansive work on eternal themes.

Apart from Mills, whose live-wired Ophelia is a vital presence, the company’s well-spoken performances generally appear a tad disengaged, as illustrated by Abeysekera’s energetic though very self-conscious Hamlet, who seemingly thinks only about his own feelings rather than about anyone around him. Blood spills but the emotional temperature remains low despite ominous sound effects, skittering violins and spooky red lighting. Of course, Hamlet remains fascinating all by its 426-year-old self and as somebody remarks, the play’s the thing, and the National Theatre capably serves it here.

The company agreeably perambulates through Pinkleton’s competent though surprisingly uninventive staging of The Rocky Horror Show that churns up a decent amount of laughs and entertainment and yet offers little in the way of remarkable sex appeal or bizarre atmosphere. An inability or unwillingness to cue the audience into responding at least to a few of the show’s obvious gags sacrifices the potential communal satisfaction which the film’s ritual delivers. Reflecting upon this conventional effort, it’s too bad Roundabout no longer leases that funky basement theater space underneath an Eighth Avenue supermarket in Chelsea – now there was a properly seedy joint for a weird manifestation of The Rocky Horror Show.

Schmigadoon! has now been smartly and successfully retooled as a full-fledged Broadway attraction that opened Monday at the Nederlander Theatre. The first season of the series condensed here into a classic two-act Broadway format, the whimsical Schmigadoon! content brightly crystalizes into stage existence as a fond, funny salute to old school musicals like Carousel and The Music Man as delightfully populated by an ensemble of expert performers.

Schmigadoon! has now been smartly and successfully retooled as a full-fledged Broadway attraction that opened Monday at the Nederlander Theatre. The first season of the series condensed here into a classic two-act Broadway format, the whimsical Schmigadoon! content brightly crystalizes into stage existence as a fond, funny salute to old school musicals like Carousel and The Music Man as delightfully populated by an ensemble of expert performers.

Director Scott Ellis tends to rush the pace of the comedy, when taking a bit more leisure about it might make Coward’s already clipped dialogue easier to appreciate. His staging takes surprisingly little advantage of the expansive set and its deluxe furnishings. The program notes that Coward revised the play in 1958 following its revival on Broadway, although this intermission-free version appears to bear other fingerprints as well.

Some may argue that The Adding Machine works fine and needs no retooling, but Bradshaw’s reasonably faithful adaptation will be more economical for theaters to produce than the rarely staged original play. In accordance with the stylized nature of expressionist theater, director Scott Elliott cultivates a cool, slightly bizarre quality to his well-acted, seamlessly staged production.

Whether Titanique proves to be too casual as an entertainment to attract a goodly Broadway crowd to the 1,339-seat St. James Theatre over the next 13 weeks is a prediction thankfully beyond my expertise. Speaking of which, let me assure readers who may fear I don’t know beans about Schmigadoon and The Rocky Horror Show (which I will review next week) that I am versed in Golden Age musicals and I can dance “The Time Warp” better than most.

Unable to cite everyone in the enthusiastic company, let’s briefly note how Sydney James Harcourt’s sizzling Rum Tum Tugger is a major crowd-pleaser, Emma Sofia’s sleek Skimbleshanks is quite a saucy authority figure and probably there’s a blazing star of tomorrow glowing among the corps who goes unmentioned here. It appears to me that Cats: The Jellicle Ball may become one of those legendary Broadway shows that someday you will tell others you were lucky enough to see.

Unable to cite everyone in the enthusiastic company, let’s briefly note how Sydney James Harcourt’s sizzling Rum Tum Tugger is a major crowd-pleaser, Emma Sofia’s sleek Skimbleshanks is quite a saucy authority figure and probably there’s a blazing star of tomorrow glowing among the corps who goes unmentioned here. It appears to me that Cats: The Jellicle Ball may become one of those legendary Broadway shows that someday you will tell others you were lucky enough to see.