Robert Hofler — Theater Critic

If Beyoncé or Taylor Swift sang about having “a hole in my heart,” it would be just another lovesick anthem. With Cat Cohen, she literally had a hole in her heart that led to a stroke just as she was about to perform at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2023. Her wonderfully performed (and titled) one-person show “Broad Strokes” opened Monday at the Lucille Lortel Theatre.

Today’s playwrights, unfortunately, have to write with the current state of theater economics in mind. But a play like “The Saviors” needs a few more townspeople, not to mention a working priest, to help us visualize that oft-mentioned community. It’s what we get in great community dramas like Tennessee Williams’ “A Streetcar Named Desire” and Arthur Miller’s “A View From the Bridge.”

Whoopi Goldberg did it alone not once but twice on Broadway. Her solo show “The Whoopi Monologues” opened in 1984 at the Lyceum Theatre, and she starred again 20 years later in its revival, again at the Lyceum. She played five female characters, and much of the show’s power and charm came from her quick metamorphoses in presenting each of these very different women.

In a recent interview with The New York Times, Jennifer Nettles never once mentions the musical “Sweeney Todd.” Lots of interviewees at the Times don’t mention Hugh Wheeler and Stephen Sondheim’s great musical; then again, those people haven’t written a new stage musical about a serial killer. As subject matters go, serial killers are rare indeed for musicals. “American Psycho” and “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” come to mind. Even the many killers in Sondheim’s “Assassins” are just one-shot wonders.

This review hasn’t mentioned any of the actors because a true joy of sitting through all three-plus hours of “Birthright” is witnessing first-hand where Spector takes his characters. That actor-character relationship should first be seen in the theater, not read in a review.

O’Hara’s direction has also messed a little with Les Cagelles. Rather than a uniform group of dancers à la The Rockettes, each performer appears to be channeling either Mariah Carey or Rihanna or Madonna or Grace Jones or Sylvester. It’s no wonder that Edgar Godineaux’s choreography has trouble handling that herd of impersonators.

When a playwright tells a truly great story, it’s often difficult to review what’s happening on stage. The pleasure comes from watching that story unfold in the theater, not reading about it in a review. That proverbial onion needs to be unpeeled layer by layer in front of a rapt audience that will be both shocked and moved to tears by what’s unexpectedly discovered at the play’s core.

When a playwright tells a truly great story, it’s often difficult to review what’s happening on stage. The pleasure comes from watching that story unfold in the theater, not reading about it in a review. That proverbial onion needs to be unpeeled layer by layer in front of a rapt audience that will be both shocked and moved to tears by what’s unexpectedly discovered at the play’s core.

There’s often a big problem with little plays, those that clock in at 90 minutes or less. While audiences like getting home early, it could be asked of them, “Why didn’t you just stay home?” Adam Bock’s new play, “The Receptionist,” opened Thursday at the Pershing Square Signature Center, where it is presented by Second Stage. It runs 80 minutes and takes about 40 to get to the shocker.

A man wearing a white stocking cap is not the most eccentric aspect of the “Hamlet” revival that opened Monday at BAM’s Harvey Theatre after a run at London’s National Theatre. The headwear, however, does give us a clue to what Shakespeare’s famous Dane would have been if Truman Capote had ever played the role. The only difference, Truman’s cap would have been cashmere. Abeysekera’s looks to be pure Polyester.

As for Holden’s performance, it’s amazing he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion before “Kenrex” ends. I felt the same about Andrew Scott in “Vanya” and Sarah Snook in “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” and if you found those one-person plays to be great theatrical experiences, “Kenrex” is the show for you. I found all three to be endurance contests for the actors, as well as a little gimmicky in the actors’ transitions from one character to the next.

“The Lost Boys” doesn’t know what it wants to be: a shocker, a tear-jerker or a parody. We’re supposed to find the vampire gang frightening, but at one point Arden sends Ronald Reagan, dressed up as Dracula, across the stage.

This “Joe Turner” production is one of the season’s best. Loomis’ entrance and other memorable moments owe much to David Gallo’s set, Paul Tazewell’s costume, Stacey Derosier’s lighting and Steve Bargonetti’s original music.

Stoller’s songs are serviceable, Rainer Dart’s lyrics are something less. There’s nothing as catchy as Stoller’s “Yakety Yak” or “Jailhouse Rock.” To make up for that deficit, the show closes with “Wind Beneath My Wings,” even though Stoller didn’t write it. That credit belongs to Jeff Silbar and Larry Henley, who have been relegated to a “special thanks” on the last page of the Playbill credits. A mess as major as “Beaches” required not one but two directors, Lonny Price and Matt Cowart.

Stoller’s songs are serviceable, Rainer Dart’s lyrics are something less. There’s nothing as catchy as Stoller’s “Yakety Yak” or “Jailhouse Rock.” To make up for that deficit, the show closes with “Wind Beneath My Wings,” even though Stoller didn’t write it. That credit belongs to Jeff Silbar and Larry Henley, who have been relegated to a “special thanks” on the last page of the Playbill credits. A mess as major as “Beaches” required not one but two directors, Lonny Price and Matt Cowart.

Kenny Leon’s direction levels some of the imbalance in the play’s humor. He gives the supporting characters just enough edge to inflict pain without ever spilling so much blood that someone turns into a villain. He also sets up a marvelous two-person fight between Richard Thomas, the HOA’s long-time president, and Anika Noni Rose, the new member who hosts the meetings. Thomas and Rose deliver two completely different performances that make beautiful dissonance. From the beginning, Thomas exudes bonhomie to the HOA and the entire world beyond, while Rose remains reserved, almost faceless. But just you wait. She’s a tiger waiting her turn to pounce.

“Schmigadoon!” on stage is no “Death Becomes Her.” It is a photo-copy replica of the TV show’s first season, in which two doctors from New York go on a camping trip in the Catskills, only to end up in a musical comprised of songs and plot points from famous shows of the 1940s and ’50s, most specifically “Carousel,” “The Music Man” and, of course, “Brigadoon.” The running joke is that while Dr. Melissa Gimble likes musicals, Dr. Josh Skinner can’t stand them and has to roll his eyes and make snide comments whenever anyone dances or breaks into song, which is often.

“Schmigadoon!” on stage is no “Death Becomes Her.” It is a photo-copy replica of the TV show’s first season, in which two doctors from New York go on a camping trip in the Catskills, only to end up in a musical comprised of songs and plot points from famous shows of the 1940s and ’50s, most specifically “Carousel,” “The Music Man” and, of course, “Brigadoon.” The running joke is that while Dr. Melissa Gimble likes musicals, Dr. Josh Skinner can’t stand them and has to roll his eyes and make snide comments whenever anyone dances or breaks into song, which is often.

Edebiri won an Emmy playing a depressive character on “The Bear,” but there, it’s a supporting character and it’s television. On stage, in her Broadway debut, Edebiri leaves it to the other actors to carry the drama. That’s not a great choice, but it makes for an effective first act, because the other actors are so good. In the second act, Catherine becomes fully alive. She takes control of her life, and in facing that character’s struggles head-on, Edebiri has to deliver a more vivid performance. Instead, she retreats to mannerisms, delivering facial tics and verbal hesitations. There’s a big hole in the middle of this “Proof.”

Brody also resists the grand gesture, even though Yarris is a very flashy character, especially in the way he tells a story. It has been said of movie actors that a great face is more important than great talent. Paul Newman comes to mind. Of course, Marlon Brando possessed that rare combo of having both. I always thought stage actors were different. Talent is everything. Brody may be an exception. He’s definitely a gifted actor, and in “The Fear of 13,” he puts a damper on his tendency to push it, as he sometimes does onscreen. On stage, he’s a real theater animal and his performance is immeasurably enhanced by a face and body that rivet an audience’s attention for two straight hours.

Brody also resists the grand gesture, even though Yarris is a very flashy character, especially in the way he tells a story. It has been said of movie actors that a great face is more important than great talent. Paul Newman comes to mind. Of course, Marlon Brando possessed that rare combo of having both. I always thought stage actors were different. Talent is everything. Brody may be an exception. He’s definitely a gifted actor, and in “The Fear of 13,” he puts a damper on his tendency to push it, as he sometimes does onscreen. On stage, he’s a real theater animal and his performance is immeasurably enhanced by a face and body that rivet an audience’s attention for two straight hours.

Brody also resists the grand gesture, even though Yarris is a very flashy character, especially in the way he tells a story. It has been said of movie actors that a great face is more important than great talent. Paul Newman comes to mind. Of course, Marlon Brando possessed that rare combo of having both. I always thought stage actors were different. Talent is everything. Brody may be an exception. He’s definitely a gifted actor, and in “The Fear of 13,” he puts a damper on his tendency to push it, as he sometimes does onscreen. On stage, he’s a real theater animal and his performance is immeasurably enhanced by a face and body that rivet an audience’s attention for two straight hours.

Jim Parsons joins this distinctly downtown cast, and his drag take on Rose’s money-grubbing mother sets back transvestites to a pre-Dame Edna era. Parsons makes no attempt to appear female, scoring major comic points with his baritone and often butch delivery. He’s so awesomely ugly, complete with two white doves above his receding hairline, that his character screams for a big solo entrance. It’s a major missed comic opportunity that Parsons enters the stage as simply part of the ensemble.

With a less gifted cast, “The Adding Machine” could be a real trial to sit through. The first act is a series of monologues, some of which are delivered directly to the audience. As Mrs. Zero, Jennifer Tilly gets the first long speech as she sits in bed next to a catatonic husband who has bored her into distraction, and overeating, for years. This scene and the one on Death Row where Mrs. Zero brings her husband his favorite dish of ham and eggs are comic gems. Tilly has arrived at that wonderful Shelley Winters stage of her career, and she should be getting some of those roles that Jennifer Coolidge continues to gobble up.

The reference to that famous 1950s family sitcom applies here because, boy, are the performances big, broad and occasionally very funny. Led by Nathan Lane and Laurie Metcalf, the ensemble in this Joe Mantello-directed production acts up a storm of category 6 proportions. There’s more acting going on at the Winter Garden than the rest of Broadway combined, and that includes “Oh, Mary!”