Robert Feldberg

Imagine a musical, based on a true story, that celebrates kindness and charity toward distressed foreigners. At a moment in history when certain politicians are telling us to fear and reject immigrants, we're shown ordinary people who act spontaneously out of a concern for others. Come from Away, which opened Sunday at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, doesn't have an ironic or cynical bone in its body. It's a celebration of the best human instincts, and, particularly coming at this time, doesn't seem at all hokey. It's cheering and refreshing.

Ultimately, in this production, the woes of the Wingfield family take second place to the experience of watching the bravery and determination of a young actress, and perhaps to ponder the wider difficulty people with disabilities have in being cast - even to play people with disabilities.

The first time I saw Joshua Harmon's comedy 'Significant Other,' off-Broadway a couple of years ago, I found the main character incredibly irritating. I don't know what happened to the play - it's essentially the same production - or to me in the interim, but seeing it on Broadway, where it opened Thursday night at the Booth Theatre, my feelings about the character, Jordan, had changed. I liked him, and the play, a lot better.

Gyllenhaal is a very good actor and sings surprisingly well, but neither he nor the amusing Ashford can lift the skimpy, pedestrian production to the sublime level of the two previous Broadway presentations of the show: the1985 original and the 2008 British import.

Viewing 'Dear Evan Hansen' a second time, at Broadway's Music Box Theatre, where it opened Sunday, I found I had much firmer feelings than when I first saw it. When I attended the off-Broadway production in May, it seemed a musical of many parts, some good, others shaky, and I don't think I fully digested the whole. In my repeat visit, I felt, first, that I had vastly understated Ben Platt's performance by calling it 'affecting.' He's remarkable.

'A Bronx Tale,' which opened on Thursday night at the Longacre Theatre, isn't a bad musical. It just doesn't seem a necessary one. The story, about a boy's coming of age in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx in the 1960s, has had a long, chameleon-like existence. Created by actor Chazz Palminteri as a one-man show, he performed it off-Broadway in 1989. It was turned into a film, starring Palminteri, in 1993, and then, in 2007, Palminteri brought the semiautobiographical solo production to Broadway.

The sniffles you hear in the audience are prompted not just by what's happening to the characters, but by two of Finn's loveliest, most soul-stirring songs, 'Unlikely Lovers' and 'What Would I Do?' Directed with great empathy by James Lapine, who co-wrote the show's book with Finn, 'Falsettos' achieves the same power it had a quarter-century ago.

The 'new version' of 'The Cherry Orchard' that opened Sunday at the American Airlines Theatre is a gray, dramatically underdeveloped affair that makes a poor argument for rethinking classic plays.

For the person who comes to the theater innocent of knowledge of Kroll and Mulaney, their extended sketch of a show will likely depend on how he or she responds to a pair of cantankerous elder citizens who are jointly, in Gil's description, 'the orange pekoe teabag staining the countertop of life.'

It's kitschy and fun, sometimes quite touching, and marvelously well done. It'll likely be very nostalgic for anyone who saw the show before, and, I'm guessing, a treat for people who haven't, and don't go expecting a profound theatrical experience. 'Cats' is a one-of-a-kind entertainment, and I can't imagine a young, budding theater-lover, in particular, not being entranced.

Last summer, when he took to the Broadway stage in 'An Act of God' to give the lowdown on what He's about, and how He regards humanity, which is not too highly, He appeared in the guise of Jim Parsons, of the sitcom 'The Big Bang Theory.' For this year's return engagement, which opened Monday night at the Booth Theatre, He's decided to come as Sean Hayes, who used to be featured on 'Will & Grace.' ('He doesn't excel at [anything],' the Lord explains, 'but in the end, we find ourselves rooting for him, don't we?') The mostly very funny 90-minute evening, in which God is assisted by two angels, or, as he calls them, wingmen (David Josefsberg and James Gleason), is an opportunity to hear first-hand about such big moments as the Great Flood, the delivery of the Ten Commandments and, of course, at the beginning, the Creation. ('On day two, I put a firmament in the midst of the waters. Yes. That was it. Slow day, day two. I probably underscheduled.')

About an hour in, it's as though somebody said let's push this Broadway musical stuff aside, and there's an abrupt shift of emphasis to the circus acts, beginning with a stunning routine by twins Andrew and Kevin Atherton, who perform an aerial pas de deux while hanging onto straps.

The acting company isn't perfect. Gallagher is a bit too modern, and the mostly very good Shannon, known for his offbeat characters, is occasionally an awkward fit for Jamie. (Colby Minifie is amusing as the family's uninhibited maid.) Byrne, though, makes a rich, authoritative, compelling James, an ideal companion for Lange's ethereal, haunted Mary. With her good looks, Lange lets us simultaneously see the lonely, broken woman Mary is and the vivacious beauty she was as a young, convent-educated girl who attracted James Tyrone, already a famous actor.

The trim, nicely executed show, which opened Tuesday night at the Broadhurst Theatre, is taken from Natalie Babbitt's widely read 1975 children's novel about the involvement of an 11-year-old girl, Winnie (Sarah Charles Lewis), with the Tucks, an ordinary-seeming family who've discovered the secret of eternal life.

He's not the world's greatest impersonator, and, especially at the beginning of the 80-minute show, some of the characters blur together. It's also distracting when he jumps out of his chair to briefly mimic the gestures of the unseen callers. But the show, directed by Jason Moore, soon settles down, and, despite not being a virtuoso of voices, Ferguson uses his performing skill and endearing personality to create a very engaging evening.

The show's great, unintended irony is that her opportunity for success comes not from her resolve or ambition or even, really, her talent with pastry. It's because she was a friendly waitress, and her good nature was financially rewarded by a satisfied, wealthy, male customer.

With its stark black and white design, projections, flashing lights and pounding music, 'American Psycho' is insistently modish, and Goold, who staged a memorably headlong production of 'Macbeth' with Patrick Stewart several years ago, is certainly a dynamic director. But while heartless flash might be the perfect style for depicting the empty '80s, it doesn't make for a very fulfilling 2 1/2 hours in the theater.

The fire-starter is 17-year-old Abigail Williams (Saoirse Ronan), impelled at least in part by her anger at John Proctor's refusal to resume their brief sexual relationship. That pivotal core of passion isn't given much emphasis. Whishaw underplays for much of the evening, while Ronan - one of Hollywood's current 'It' girls following her performance in the film 'Brooklyn' - gives a fierce but emotionally opaque performance in her stage debut.

All the actresses are superb, but it's the Girl who's at the center of the evening. Nyong'o, with her expressive eyes, fully captures her fear and uncertainty, from the heart-tugging sadness when she's summoned to the commander's bed to the unsettling combination of terror and eagerness when she decides to cast her lot with Number Two and become a soldier. It's a splendid performance.

Whitaker, under the direction of Michael Grandage, gives us the character's surface. His Erie is a pleasant-enough guy with a genial laugh, but there isn't a vital arc to his story. The actor is a warm presence, but not much more.

The play's switcheroo invites deep thoughts, such as, 'What was that all about?' My wild guess is Greenberg started writing two different plays that weren't going anywhere, and decided to weld them together. Just for the heck of it.

The ingenious 'Noises Off' is the world champion of farces, and it's nice to report it's received a very funny, properly dizzying revival from the Roundabout Theatre Company.

Indeed, you can imagine novelist King having some droll pleasure with the idea of a best-selling author encountering reader fury by changing literary forms. What would be the blowback, you can imagine him wondering, if he suddenly switched from writing horror to haiku?

Despite its unenthralling dramatics, the show does have an underlying warmth, in showing the closeness and caring of a family across generations, and also a sympathetic, good-natured marital relationship. Its chief assets, though, are those musical routines, which, in addition to 'Conga,' include 'Get on Your Feet,' 'Rhythm Is Gonna Get You' and many other energized numbers, as well as several sweet ballads used as character songs. 'On Your Feet!' is not going to revolutionize Broadway, but, alongside a bland story, it does offer some musical fireworks.

Underlying everything is the conception of duty, raised pointedly when Harry must resolve whether he'll abdicate his position - whatever that is - to marry his free-spirited girlfriend (Tafline Steen) and become an ordinary man who can enjoy dining at Burger King. (To actually care about this silly young man's decision, framed as significant drama, you have to really be into monarchy.) Ultimately, the family stages an intervention with Charles, determined to do what's necessary - and it's pretty drastic - to set things right again in Britain. 'King Charles III' is quite wordy and likely more accessible across the ocean, but it's also unusually imaginative and a surprising bit of fun.