Michael Sommers — Theater Critic

Her musical voice pitched low and conversationally, Rabe depicts a very smart Portia who's well aware of the princess image she needs to project in Belmont, which interestingly makes her later decision to masquerade as a young scholar seem natural. Portia's amused composure during the challenge scenes — nice to see Charles Kimbrough's cameo as an elderly dandy — turns flustered and deeply ardent when she encounters Bassanio.

No masterpiece but often a fun show, this cheerful old-school musical faithfully traces the film's saga of Buddy, a gangling 30-year-old reared by Santa's elves at the North Pole, who decides to find his father in far-off New York City.

From its Pledge of Allegiance opening to a typically moonstruck ending, 'The Pee-Wee Herman Show' is certain to blast 20-and-30-somethings back to their youth for their very first taste of nostalgia, complete with a 'Penny' cartoon in the middle. Newcomers to the Pee-wee cult are likely to be dumbfounded by it all, but fans of Reubens' whimsical artistry should expect a lot of dandy fun - infinity.

Spinning through the history of the civilized world in 75 clever minutes, Quinn claims society's bad habits today basically stem from our genetic pool. 'Our ancestors are not the people who starved to death waiting for their turn on line,' he says. Aside from adding some fancier visuals and making a few tweaks to the nicely-shaped text, Quinn and his smart director, Jerry Seinfeld, present the same entertaining show I reviewed last August.

A yummy confection of silly romantic comedy, seductive Latin music, alluring visuals and high-powered performances, 'Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown' is a musical comedy certain to amuse anyone craving frivolous, tuneful entertainment on Broadway.

The unerring expertise in writing, staging, design and performance that makes this show so exciting is a striking reminder how musicals crafted well in the classic Broadway style remain more satisfying than the newer rocky horror likes of 'Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson' and 'American Idiot' put together. 'The Scottsboro Boys' proves once again that the old school still rules.

Thankfully there is no attempt to tell a story. Every so often one of the musicians yells something like, 'Hey, New York, get on your feet — it's time to rock and roll!'

A 'little play' in that its emotions are understated and its brief scenes are mostly everyday situations, 'Driving Miss Daisy' could easily be overwhelmed by actors of such magnificence as Redgrave and Jones, but they unerringly provide honest and nicely-detailed performances that befit the modest story.

Swigging Pepto-Bismol, a handsomely grizzled Lauria looks very much like the squat, paunchy Lombardi and easily assumes the coach's thundering ways. Often very funny, yet poignant, Judith Light creates a wry, poker-faced Marie whose wisdom shines behind an alcoholic haze. Always a dynamic actor, Keith Nobbs lends McCormick a strong sense of urgency (plus a hard-edged Jersey accent that sure doesn't sound like Bergen County to my Oradell-bred ears). Easygoing Bill Dawes is very much a sporty golden boy as Paul Hornung, solidly backed by Chris Sullivan and Robert Christopher Riley respectively as teammates Jim Taylor and Dave Robinson.

The original Broadway production of 'La Bete' was an extremely stylish but fatally under-performed folly of a comedy that shut like a bad clam back in 1991. Believe me, I saw it (and smelled it). David Hirson's play returned on Thursday, still very much a folly as a piece of stagecraft, but now acted to much finer effect by Mark Rylance and a smart company at the Music Box Theatre.

Tall, dark and very handsome Benjamin Walker is beyond charismatic as Jackson, portraying him more like a rock idol than a crusty Presidential icon. A dozen other youngsters depict a hundred other folks while singing the blazes out Friedman's pulsating emo-cratic score banged out by a three-man band. Dear Kristine Nielsen drolly rolls around as the show's cozy narrator until she is gunned down by — well, you'll have to see 'BBAJ' to get the joke behind her murder. And to be reminded by the authors how the native population was systematically slaughtered during those glorious times by Jackson and other Americans expanding the nation's boundaries.

Wonderfully assured in manner — until later in the story when Robert begins to falter — the craggy-faced Stewart suggests a rather florid artiste of the old school, complete with rich, plummy, vocal accents. Bouncing with youthful energy as John, Knight displays a puppy-dog eagerness that turns more reserved as he matures. The actors' personal interplay backstage might be expressed more intimately than it is here, but apparently director Neil Pepe intends to keep this production on the lighter, brighter side.

Following a six-month hiatus, the handsome production directed by Daniel Sullivan reopened Thursday at the Cort Theatre. Christina Ricci makes an admirable Broadway debut as the perky character originated by Alicia Silverstone but otherwise the show has changed little in the process.

Riveting in her crucial monologues, Jones turns wonderfully intense as Mrs. Warren describes her early options as a woman and why she pursued such a career. While Jones' portrayal tends to be a broad one, she proves to be highly entertaining, true both to the raffish character and her period and gives this disappointing show some much-needed vitality.

Fairly absorbing in content, Hall's patchy drama about plain blokes transformed by art is somewhat by-the-numbers in its episodic construction, complete with a comedy scene involving a nude model (Lisa McGrillis). If the story at times is predictable and the conclusion doesn't resonate, Hall's realistic, frequently humorous writing is agreeable although some passages about art and allegory get a bit thick.

'Still Life' is a fine play. 'Brief Encounter' is a classic film. Personally, I don't need to see the two texts conflated into some 90-minute seriocomic extravaganza that undermines and mocks the subtle essence of Coward's work while presumably paying homage to it.

They are, in a word, bewitching. And they give performances quite unlike their predecessors. Just for the record (go look it up), I enjoyed more than some colleagues director Trevor Nunn's leisurely, intimately scaled, darker-toned take on this sophisticated musical affair about former lovers Desiree and Fredrik, now middle-aged, who rekindle their romance in spite of other attachments.

Lovers of old school rock ‘n' roll will get a big bang out of 'Million Dollar Quartet,' a mighty slick jukebox musical powered by a dynamite song stack and dynamic portrayals of the four legends singing ‘em.

Handsomely designed by Phelim McDermott and Julian Crouch of 'Shockheaded Peter' repute, the slick production packs plenty of tricky visuals including a giant squid and a spectral ensemble of Addams ancestors. McDermott and Crouch remain credited as directors but after the show's Chicago tryout, veteran helmsman Jerry Zaks was tapped as 'creative consultant.' The results are an expert, energetic attraction that could be far sharper in terms of composition, but likely to satisfy anyone who loves the Addams, appreciates terrific performances and really wants to have more of a comfortable than a brilliant Broadway experience.

People born when 'Lend Me a Tenor' premiered on Broadway just turned 21, so it's time for a new generation to laugh themselves silly over Ken Ludwig's frisky hotel room comedy. The original production was a major hit and a similar success looks likely for this brightly performed and highly enjoyable Broadway revival which opened Sunday at the Music Box Theatre.

A new bio drama regarding modern art master Mark Rothko, 'Red' is smartly crafted, strikingly staged and beautifully designed. Yet for all of its excellence, the Donmar Warehouse import from London which opened Thursday at the Golden Theatre lacks the sizzle one usually expects to enjoy in a hot Broadway drama. Alfred Molina portrays Rothko with brooding urgency but never rages quite as mightily as might be hoped.

The dancers are attractive, personable and expert. Sturdy John Selya is the swinger captivated by Holley Farmer's red-headed coquette in a blue dress. A nimble Charlie Neshyba-Hodges and demure Laura Mead cavort through several cute turns. Karine Platadit is the Amazonian vamp who slays a brooding Keith Roberts and Latin lover Matthew Stockwell Dibble, among others. Their energy is high and they really heat up the joint. (An alternate cast of principals including American Ballet Theatre star Ashley Tuttle perform the Wednesday and Saturday matinees. Good thing they're all so hot since 'Come Fly Away' otherwise registers as a rather hazy narrative hitched to Sinatra's disembodied vocals and Tharp's energetic dances. It's got flash but no heart.

From the sniffles pervading the auditorium, apparently some people are moved deeply by this comedy-drama-weeper. Not me. At least not in the way the playwright intends. Frankly I could scarcely wait to move myself out of the theater and into a martini. The modest production trimly directed by Sheryl Kaller is all right as far as the acting and staging goes. The play, however, is shamefully derivative claptrap regarding an unlikely gay couple. It reeks with such tired business as clueless, bigoted parents, the obligatory ditsy-though-wise gal pal and even a (non-AIDS) sickroom confrontation. This is meant to be a cutting-edge love story of today? Really?

One very sick yet awfully funny play, 'A Behanding in Spokane' stars Christopher Walken as a scary guy dead set on finding the forelimb he lost as a boy. Anyone squeamish or especially politically correct should skip the new Broadway play that premiered on Thursday at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre. Racial slurs and moldering body parts fly all over the place. Otherwise snare an adults-only ticket. Showcased at his spookiest best as a one-handed weirdo, Walken is hilarious and the sharply-staged comedy-thriller he haunts packs 90 minutes of nasty entertainment.

Crafted as a chamber piece with less than a dozen characters and a four-member vocal ensemble, 'A Little Night Music' is directed by Trevor Nunn in a particularly intimate fashion. Expect not a ton of fancy scenery and spectacular 1900s costumes. Staged more as a rueful comedy with music, this show unfolds quietly against a flexible setting of duskily mirrored panels that later opens to disclose a modest view of birch trees.