Peter Debruge

Birbiglia talks like he's reciting, slurring his words slightly, so you have to lean in to make out what he says. But when it comes to the laughs, his timing is impeccable, a subtle pause, a sentence that ends a beat before you'd expect or continues on into a clause that changes its meaning altogether. Little by little, he goes deep - pun absolutely not intended, but too apt to retract - getting all meaning-of-life on us, before orchestrating a gut-busting 'moment of silence' that is anything but.

'Spring Awakening' puts such inclusivity to thematic use while keeping the show's rock-music energy high. For most of the show, the band remains integrated into the shadows of Dane Laffrey's industrial-looking set, whose steel walls and rolling stairs look more like a 20th-century power station than a German boys' school. But when necessary, the musicians aren't afraid to run out into the audience, who won't soon forget the sight of Matlin rocking an electric guitar in the boxed seats.