Robert Hofler — Theater Critic

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!”

On stage, “Dog Day” also can’t duplicate the crowd scenes outside the bank that distinguish the movie version, where Sonny becomes an instant folk hero to the bystanders. In a masterstroke of writing and direction, Guirgus and Goold turn the theater audience into those very willing enablers.

Spending an afternoon with this Capote is something you wouldn’t wish on his worst enemies — Jacqueline Susann and David Reuben, included. When Capote shakes his bottle of Tuinals, he gives us false hope that he’ll swallow its contents right there and then.

Only the gardener appears to have ever met Dahl before “Giant” begins. Bette Davis in “Dinner” delivers her only faceless performance. She knew that to create a character who could deal with a nutcase-boss she needed to ignore the tantrums, brush off the arrogance, be almost invisible. Davis should have given acting lessons to Levey and Stirling who react in outrage and horror to every mal mot delivered by Lithgow.

Now that “Every Brilliant Thing” has played Broadway, the show’s next stop should be a Celebrity Cruise. At 75 minutes, it’s the perfect length to fill up that awkward gap between the evening buffet and the floating slot machines.

Reddick’s story delivers so much dizzying suspense (after you’ve figured out what’s going on) that even a huge bomb explosion – Masha Tsimring’s lighting and Kathy Ruvuna’s sound effects make you jump — is something of a letdown.

There are a lot of speeches in Ziegler’s play, many of them laced with a subversive contemporary wit and a bracing grip on what it means to give birth or not. Her “Antigone” doesn’t have the ghoulish fascination of the original; however, as depicted here, birth and abortion can be far more scary. The play ends with Keenan-Bolger and Perkins in a tight embrace, one that excludes men — even a good-guy like Smith’s Haemon. Men are mere bystanders here.

There are a lot of speeches in Ziegler’s play, many of them laced with a subversive contemporary wit and a bracing grip on what it means to give birth or not. Her “Antigone” doesn’t have the ghoulish fascination of the original; however, as depicted here, birth and abortion can be far more scary. The play ends with Keenan-Bolger and Perkins in a tight embrace, one that excludes men — even a good-guy like Smith’s Haemon. Men are mere bystanders here.

It doesn’t happen often, but every once in a while a play is not so much a play as it is an audition for a Netflix or HBO series. The TV company could be NBC or CBS if not for the fact that “The Reservoir,” which opened Tuesday at the Atlantic Theater Company, is about alcoholism and Alzheimer’s.

“The Other Place” is a far looser adaptation and update. Beyond the too cute name changes — Annie/Antigone, Chris/Creon, Erica/Eurydice and the soothsayer Terry/Tiresias (Jerry Killick) — “The Other Place” plays like an improv exercise in which actors, who are only vaguely familiar with the Sophocles classic, are put on a stage with an urn full of ashes and directed, “To now gives us ‘Antigone.’”

“The Other Place” is a far looser adaptation and update. Beyond the too cute name changes — Annie/Antigone, Chris/Creon, Erica/Eurydice and the soothsayer Terry/Tiresias (Jerry Killick) — “The Other Place” plays like an improv exercise in which actors, who are only vaguely familiar with the Sophocles classic, are put on a stage with an urn full of ashes and directed, “To now gives us ‘Antigone.’”

Even though “High Spirits” is a nearly forgotten antique, Encores! has cast it with flair, bringing real Broadway stars to the stage. In addition to Lenk (“The Band’s Visit”) and Martin (tons of stuff), there’s Steven Pasquale (“The Bridges of Madison County”) and Phillipa Soo (“Hamilton”) in the roles of the husband and wife whose stiff-upper-lip marriage disintegrates under Elvira’s laser-focused high-jinks. Playing the very British couple, Pasquale and Soo are cast against type and can be thankful that “High Spirits” is a limited engagement.

At its core, “Marjorie Prime” tells a simple kitchen-sink story of two adults trying to care for an aging relative. Harrison tries to up the ante by dipping into his gothic drawer of horrors to deliver not one but two suicides that push the human narrative into the contrived. In the end, the machines are more honest than the humans and, better yet, there’s none of the angst.

In the first scene, Young delivers the best performance by an adult actor of a child character since Anika Noni Rose played a kid in the original 2003 production of “Caroline, or Change.” Braun isn’t quite as convincing – who would be? – but he’s admirably effective playing a little boy despite this actor being over six feet tall.

Jim Barne and Kit Buchan wrote the songs and the book for this rom-com two-hander, and they begin “Two Strangers” with real promise. The young man Dougal (Tutty) is newly arrived at JFK from London and eager to meet his American father for the very first time. Dad’s getting married and the bride’s sister, Robin (Pitts), picks him up at the airport. As meet-cutes go, this one turns very problematic in Act 2, if not before.

Jim Barne and Kit Buchan wrote the songs and the book for this rom-com two-hander, and they begin “Two Strangers” with real promise. The young man Dougal (Tutty) is newly arrived at JFK from London and eager to meet his American father for the very first time. Dad’s getting married and the bride’s sister, Robin (Pitts), picks him up at the airport. As meet-cutes go, this one turns very problematic in Act 2, if not before.

The humor depends entirely on 20-20 hindsight. The scientist, the divorcee and her obnoxious niece (Kayli Carter, being obnoxious) visit a fair exhibition that predicts what the world will be in the year 1960. They all receive an “I Saw the Future” button. No surprise, the scientist knows what’s really going to happen, and his oblique but spot-on remarks about the future provoke mild giggles of recognition from the audience.

David Cromer directs, and a hallmark of his many stellar productions is the actors’ comic timing. No one directs comedy better than Cromer; he invariably finds the humor in adversity. And there’s something else that makes him one of the great directors: He champions and takes on plays by writers even an avid theatergoer has probably never heard of. This autumn, he preceded “Cartozians” with the exquisite “Caroline” by Preston Max Allen. If Cromer is directing, you know it’s worth seeing.

The biggest pleasure of this prestige production is watching how Icke pastes these modern references onto a classic story. It’s often fun to watch, but never more than clever. Icke also panders to one of the theater’s largest demos by having one of Jocasta and Oedipus’ sons, Polyneices (James Wilbraham), be outed by his brother, Eteocles (Jordan Scowen), at a family dinner. Because he’s such a wonderful father, Oedipus reassures Polyneices of his love and support by delivering a speech written by someone at PFLAG.

Based on the Marcel Pagnol film, “The Baker’s Wife” was supposed to open on Broadway in 1976, or thereabouts, but shuttered on its way to New York City, the most likely culprit being the abominable showman-producer David Merrick. Productions have popped up here and there over the years, and fortunately for New Yorkers, a stellar production of “The Baker’s Wife” opened Tuesday at the Classic Stage Company. It’s by far the year’s best revival of a stage musical. If there’s any justice, this long-neglected musical by Joseph Stein and Stephen Schwartz will finally make it to Broadway with this great ensemble completely intact.

The bad news for Trump is that Obama now has a musical dedicated to his time in the White House. It’s aptly called “44: The Musical,” and opened Thursday at the Daryl Roth Theatre. The good news for 45 and 47 is that the show is “awful,” as in the original definition of the word, which is “full of awe.”

“Kyoto” had its U.S. premiere Monday at Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont Theater, and it is yet another British import filled with Big Ideas served up on a sterile monolithic set that screams “prestige” even before you sit down.

Samuel D. Hunter’s latest begins as a very funny two-hander comedy in which Laurie Metcalf plays another of her sharp-tongued curmudgeons and Micah Stock brings to the stage a more svelte version of Brendan Fraser’s obese recluse from “The Whale,” also by Hunter. We know Metcalf can be a hilarious bitch. What’s fun is that Stock’s tortured schlub of a nephew turns out to be just as skilled at throwing the insults back at her.

When Schiff’s book disappoints by simply regurgitating her screenplay, the original score by Gwendolyn Sanford and Brandon Jay provides the necessary fresh energy. It’s nothing more than bubblegum, but like Hubba Bubba, the songs come in a wide variety of flavors and colors.

When Schiff’s book disappoints by simply regurgitating her screenplay, the original score by Gwendolyn Sanford and Brandon Jay provides the necessary fresh energy. It’s nothing more than bubblegum, but like Hubba Bubba, the songs come in a wide variety of flavors and colors.