Michael Sommers

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.

Broadway has never before witnessed a musical quite like 'Fela!' — an explosive mix of catchy Afrobeat rhythms, wild, sexy dancing and raw bio-dramatics — and while its unique charms certainly are powerful, one frankly wonders whether this unusual show will catch on with the mainstream public.

Not a jukebox musical stuffed with golden oldies so much as a compelling bio-musical, 'Jersey Boys' gets plenty of mileage from can't-get-em-outta-your-head classics like 'Big Girls Don't Cry' while legitimately employing the music for dramatic purposes. Fluently scripted by Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice, this classic rags-to-riches story is narrated in turn by each member of the 4 Seasons, beginning with Belleville wise guy Tommy DeVito, who organized the group between his visits to the slammer in the late 1950s. Energetically weaving story, songs, visuals and exciting performances into a can't-stop-the-music tidal wave, director Des McAnuff stages a compelling rush of events that pauses only occasionally to savor the beauty of certain songs. Live video is spliced with vintage film of '60s crowds reacting to the band or pop art-style cartoons that comment upon various moments.