Robert Hofler — Theater Critic

Imagine a 'Funny Girl' in which Nicky Arnstein is Fanny Brice's talented, hard-working manager-collaborator. That plot would pretty much sum up the love story and rise to fame of Emilio and Gloria Estefan in their new jukebox musical, 'On Your Feet!,' which opened Thursday at the Marquis Theatre.

Mike Bartlett begins his play unpromisingly with yet another of those weekly meetings between a prime minister and a modern monarch. In this case, however, the monarch isn't Queen Elizabeth but her son Charles, who is suddenly king because his 89-year-old mom is now dead. How prescient of Bartlett.

In her own Broadway debut, Keira Knightley plays the title character, and she also has been directed (by Evan Cabnet) to be utterly still, at least for most of the first act. Edmundson gives Therese very little to say in the beginning...When Knightley is able to inject humor into a performance...the results are marvelous. When she's wholly dramatic, as in 'Anna Karenina' or this 'Therese Raquin,' she's monotonous. The larger problem is that Edmundson and Cabnet haven't decided whether 'Therese Raquin' is a great tragedy or some Grand Guignol potboiler...Not everything goes wrong. Ryan, the show's major piece of eye candy, is appropriately studly...Judith Light as Therese's mother-in-law makes the character's tiresomeness almost bearable. But even she can't escape Edmundson and Cabnet's need to go over the top.

All of this gimmickry -- some of it written into the play, some of it resulting from Sullivan's direction -- wouldn't matter if the characters, the dog included, weren't so dull. Larry David's very popular and critically trashed 'Fish in the Dark' from last season displayed more wit in five minutes than Gurney gives us in two-plus hours...The wimpy Broderick and the dynamic White don't belong on the same stage, much less in the same marriage. Her bundle of neuroses, fun to watch in other shows, doesn't fit this level-headed character...Broderick turns yet another character into an eternal adolescent, his voice occasionally sliding up to an F above middle C for the wispiest of comic effects...Ashford's sexy pooch is much snarkier than Parker's. It's the difference between what you want in a pet: an ersatz Madonna or the real Sarah Jessica Parker.

In 2015, how are we supposed to enjoy 'Dames at Sea'...?...With its modest cast of just six, the show doesn't even attempt to replicate Berkeley's big art-deco productions numbers...What we're left with in 'Dames at Sea' are the plots of movies like 'Footlight Parade' and 'The Golddiggers of 1933'...In the new revival of 'Dames at Sea,' Eloise Kropp and Cary Tedder play Ruby and Dick, respectively. Unlike Keeler, Kropp can sing and dance; unlike Powell, Tedder probably won't go on to play Philip Marlowe...Book writers George Haimsohn and Robin Miller make jokes that play on the leading man's name or that rhyme Louis XIV with V.I.P. It's not fun to feel superior to such material; it's numbing. As for Jim Wise's 'Dames at Sea' score, quick: Hum a tune from this nearly 50-year-old musical. The repetition of the music is in a contest only with the repetition of the Dick jokes.

Cicely Tyson doesn't let her approaching 91st birthday get in the way of being downright girlish on stage. She achieves this marvel twice in the new Broadway revival of 'The Gin Game'...She evokes youthful giddiness at beating the pants of James Earl Jones's card-playing veteran in the first act. Later, when she may be falling in love with him, their hands accidentally touch and then they dance. Tyson suddenly has the glow and all of the stability of an adolescent...[Jones'] immense build, especially in comparison to the petite Tyson, is again on display in 'The Gin Game,' but to poignant effect. His character rages at all that power being trapped in an old body that no longer works the way he wants it to...What doesn't work (except as an excuse to watch two pros go at it) is Coburn's play.

Imagine the cartoon character Olive Oyl as a baritone in a red tube dress and you've got Arianda's May. Arianda may be the first actor to feature both arms and legs akimbo, and when she's not working those long limbs, she's running around on the set's motel-room bed like a 3-year-old without her Ritalin. Since May doesn't get to speak every line of dialogue, Arianda spends the rest of her time on stage messing with her hair, braiding her hair, or pinning up her hair -- anything to keep our attention...With Arianda offstage, it's possible to notice Rockwell and Pelphrey, and to see that they're embodying their respective characters with understated grace.

What's the opposite of deconstruction in the theater? I'm not sure. But that's what director Douglas Hodge does with 'Old Times' in this Roundabout production...In Hodge's 'Old Times,' the actors aren't playing the subtext necessarily. They share a feverish imagination that doesn't have much to do with the text, but nonetheless illuminates it in quirky ways...Hodge and company emphasize that defiance...Owen, in his Broadway debut, gives us a Deeley who's not only soused from the get-go but fey in an attractively disheveled sort of way...For theatergoers who are tired of sitting through all those Pinter pauses, Hodge pushes his actors to speak rapid fire, often on top of each other; and when they do take a breath, it's much more than a pause. It's often a long, silent interlude in which they lounge around, smoke cigarettes, or strut as if readying themselves for the next barrage of words.

Arden is much better when he just mixes things up. Especially inventive are his use of posters, projection of words and silences. Sometimes he shows amazing restraint and creativity, as when Mientus seduces Castille atop an upright piano and Stewart's piano player swivels around on his chair in silent ecstasy. Much less wonderful is the over-the-top act one finale when Frank and McKenzie finally make it, surrounded by a hallelujah chorus complete with priests and incense. As for the adults, Russell Harvard, Camryn Manheim, and Patrick Page play a variety of adult villains. Only Marlee Matlin manages to give her roles a modicum of humanity.

Yes, 'Hamilton' is that good, and the still youthful Lin-Manuel Miranda can be mentioned in the same sentence with Sondheim and even Cole Porter. No need to go into all the lyrics here, but Miranda has a syllable-by-syllable rhyme for 'pseudonym,' and many other words, that is absolutely delicious.

Under Gabriel Barre's direction, 'Amazing Grace' feels like a long adult-ed lecture or a night at 'Parsifal'...Smith ends his musical with a stirring rendition of 'Amazing Grace,' but the rest of the score utterly lacks Newton's simplicity and instead treads heavily in the current Broadway vogue for bombastic anthems coupled with a strong percussive element that's meant to send audiences to their feet applauding...In their final exchange, Mary asks Newton why 'it took you so long' to give up his slave-trader ways. Theatergoers will be asking that question much earlier.

For theatergoers who like big casts that are well directed in huge, rambling plays, a visit to see 'Airline Highway,' which opened Thursday at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre in New York, is recommended. Lisa D'Amour's new play, which had its world premiere last year at Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre, gives 16 actors the platform to connect with each other, show off their considerable talents, and, most importantly, build an extended family on stage together. What's theatrically indulgent about 'Airline Highway' - and therefore, so appreciated - is how D'Amour could easily have eliminated a few actors in the ensemble, especially the people (Toni Martin, Todd D'Amour, Sekou Laidlow) who inhabit the crack den that is the lower stage-right unit at the Hummingbird Motel, rendered in seedy (almost smelly) detail in Scott Pask's harrowingly realistic set.

Claire is Durrenmatt's vengeful god, out to make life a living hell for the townspeople who done her wrong long ago...The billionaire Claire is anything but a dame or a broad and she's certainly no Broadway gypsy. Which is what gives Rivera's performance such resonance and power: She's cast way against type, and at age 82 she exposes a facet of her stage persona never seen before. Amazing! Rivera is well matched by Rees...Rees's Anton gets it coming and going. Rees doesn't possess a good singing voice...His acting, though, carries the performance.

Borle pulls off the rare feat of appearing simultaneously sexy and ridiculous as the Bard who rips off 'Hamlet' from a Renaissance nobody named Nigel Bottom. As that timid genius, John Cariani makes adorable totally arresting when he puts up the good fight not to turn his masterpiece into a musical called 'Omelette,' which pits him against his very determined, very dense producer-brother, Nick Bottom (Brian d'Arcy James)...when two or all three of them converge, it's musical nirvana. Kudos to director-choreographer Casey Nicholaw for making that happen...'Rotten' appears to be part of Nicholaw's ongoing mission in the theater to bring 'Forbidden Broadway' to Broadway...Which is where 'Something Rotten!' turns into something recycled...The score by Wayne Kirkpatrick and Karey Kirkpatrick is most successful when it sticks to what always works on Broadway nowadays: disco and gospel, complete with a large-voiced black woman, Marisha Wallace, leading the charge.

It's got more marches than 'The Music Man,' more battle scenes than 'La Forza del Destino,' and it must set a record for the number of gun shots and bomb detonations in a Broadway musical. If all that noise doesn't inspire an immediate visit to the ear doctor, there's the score by Michael Korie, Amy Powers and Lucy Simon that's guaranteed to require it...although Kelli Barrett's chipper Laura offers a few moments of unintended levity. The ponderness of the material and Des McAnuff's direction make the two hours and 45 minutes fly by with the speed of a Soviet Union train. Nothing wears out its welcome faster than bombast. On the plus side, there's something truly noble about Mutu, a fine singing actor who somehow manages to deliver real conviction in the face of such a score, book and leading lady.

As expected, Fleming sounds great when she sings. She's also very funny when she speaks, which is not to be expected after her awkward performance earlier this year at the Metropolitan Opera in 'The Merry Widow,' under the direction of Broadway's Susan Stroman. Musical-comedy veteran Kathleen Marshall directs 'Living on Love,' and you'd never know it's her Broadway debut, too, as the director of a play. No small part of Fleming's success must go to Marshall...With all due respect to the diva of the hour, the real revelation of 'Living on Love' is Sills, whose divo Vito enters the Broadway pantheon of great, inspired, and completely over the-top comic creations.

It's a brilliant restaging, one that seats us just behind Alison's wary adult eye as she remembers life with father. Although there's no showbiz milieu depicted here, 'Fun Home' is to fathers what 'Gypsy' is to mothers, and Kron and Tesori have created a daddy Bruce (Michael Cerveris) who is every bit as vivid and controlling (and ultimately out of control) as Mama Rose.

..Sher once again reveals the musical's own enormous qualities without imposing an arbitrary interpretation...right from the opening of 'The King and I,' we know we're in the same confident hands when the glorious Kelli O'Hara takes the stage...In fact, if anything in this revival shakes up our preconceptions of 'The King and I,' it's that Anna must undergo almost as much re-education as the king (Ken Watanabe). Plus, O'Hara's Anna is nearly as headstrong as he...Watanabe doesn't dominate the show like Brynner. He's regal, but he's also far more vulnerable, and as performed here, he wills his own death, almost as if a suicide. Seven years, it's too long to wait for another reunion of Rodgers and Hammerstein, LTC, and Sher.

Diane Paulus, the show's current director, has kept this musical tale about J. M. Barrie's creation of 'Peter Pan' magnificently low tech...As Barrie's American producer Charles Frohman (and his Captain Hook), Kelsey Grammer far surpasses his stage work in 'La Cage aux Folles.' No one knows how to massage a laugh line better than Grammer, and rightly so, Morrison lets his co-star provide most of the night's humor. The 'Glee' star, on the other hand, keeps it very low-key, giving real heart and enormous grace to Barrie...While Paulus has kept 'Finding Neverland' relatively small, there's still some pandering to modern taste for the overblown, if not the entirely inappropriate...The rousing ensemble numbers by Gary Barlow and Eliot Kennedy could be lifted from a 1950's musical...Overall, however, Weinstein's gamble has paid off. This production may not be total perfection, but it works real magic with its child's play.

Brian Hargrove's witty, twist-filled book about a mixed-up wedding party serves as the playground for a superb ensemble that knows precisely what to do with every zinger they're given. And whenever the jokes are in short supply -- which isn't often -- director David Hyde Pierce makes sure there's a visual gag to fill the space...Hargrove's lyrics also manage to entertain...which is quite a feat since to get at those spirited rhymes you have to listen to Barbara Anselmi's chipper soft-shoe tunes...Hargrove's best material is reserved for the two mothers, Tyne Daly and Harriet Harris, who know just what to do with a pointed barb, and they never miss their target.

Wheeldon's approach is sophisticated, especially his decision to cast classically trained ballet dancers for his leads, Fairchild and Cope, both making their Broadway debuts. They're competent actors and singers, but when Fairchild dances he recalls the European tradition of classical ballet - unlike Gene Kelly, who recalls the all-American tradition of being a hoofer. Someone forgot to put the American in this 'Paris.'

For starters, watching these two plays...is nothing like reading the novels. In the latter, Mantel creates a magnificent panorama of Henry's England, but she doesn't always bother to introduce her characters or let you know who's speaking some of the time. The plays, on the other hand, are '16th Century England for Dummies,' even for Americans who think Thomas and Oliver Cromwell are one and the same. While Poulton is brilliant at disguising tons of exposition as genuine dialogue, 'Wolf Hall' takes a good 90 minutes and one intermission to settle into what might be called a good drama. The swirl of characters and incidents is so intense that watching 'Wolf Hall' turns theatergoing into grandiose scorekeeping...That shift of power from the Henry to Cromwell is when 'Wolf Hall' genuinely begins to fascinate...Miles...maintains an implacable façade regardless of what he's thinking, and that Miles rivets our attention for six hours makes his performance a masterclass in minimalist acting.

Refashioned for the 'High School Musical' generation, 'Gigi' has been scrubbed and polished so that its heroine is now sassy, headstrong, and spunkier than a barrel of Disney princesses. The one thing she's not is French, and, of course, there's nothing terribly risqué or even controversial about her situation anymore. As Gigi, Vanessa Hudgens sings and moves well and looks stunning, and if ever they get around to turning 'Pretty Woman' into a Broadway musical, she won't have to change a thing...That Gigi holds out for marriage and the greater security it provides, well, that's the real story of a modern material girl. Despite presenting such a newly ambivalent character, Clark emerges as the only actor on stage who evokes turn-of-the-century Paris...While Cott has a great singing voice, his tenor turns squealy when he shows much emotion, and at times he comes off more petulant than Gigi herself. Since it involves such a small directorial touch...couldn't Hudgens's all-American rambunctiousness been dialed back a bit?

Since Askins possesses such a warped sense of humor, he'll probably take this as a compliment, but by far the most interesting characters in 'Hand to God' are the puppets, not the humans. Except for Timothy, they aren't that vivid, although Stiles is outrageously droll when it comes to having her hand puppet Jolene service Tyrone...'Hand to God' is a good night in the theater, but it does not offer the consistently inspired insanity of Christopher Durang's 'Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike,' wherein all the characters rivet us with their individual madness. The big difference, of course, is that Durang is a veteran and Askins, at age 34, is making his Broadway debut. The theater of the absurd (or the ridiculous, the bizarre, or whatever it's being called today) is in good hands, and the mantle has been passed to very capable hands.

Nighy's performance is deliriously over the top, and the night's biggest laugh comes when Mulligan does a spot-on impersonation of her co-star