Robert Hofler

At their most amusing, Clark and McAnally have more in common with the gentle humor of Meredith Willson than the far more rambunctious nonsense that Horn delivers. This constant switching of gears between the songs and the joke-filled dialogue slows down the narrative, making “Shucked” seem a lot longer than its two and twenty minutes with intermission. There’s also a pair of narrators (Grey Henson and Ashley D. Kelley) who are somewhat less adorable than they think they are.

All this analysis of the singing might be a clue to what’s occasionally wrong with Thomas Kail’s direction when his actors aren’t thrilling us with their superb vocals. Kail brings out the humor in “Sweeney Todd” that both John Doyle (2005 Broadway revival) and Tim Burton (2007 film version) eschewed. Ashford sees to that almost singlehandedly. She doesn’t miss a chance to twist a phrase or an eyebrow in her burlesque seduction of Sweeney. Elsewhere, Kail’s approach is a little too operatic, too respectful. There’s even a stateliness verging on lethargy between some of the musical numbers. “Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir” and “The Contest” have always been problematic.

I don’t recall how Fosse ended his “Dancin’.” Cilento ends his with a real flourish. He gives each of his nearly two dozen dancers the full-star treatment, complete with his, her or their name emblazoned (lighting by David Grill) in tall letters on the upstage wall. Cilento, who appeared in the original company of “A Chorus Line,” presents the anti-“Chorus Line” with this extended curtain call. These quick solo turns feature some of the evening’s best choreography. Here and elsewhere in the show, Dylis Croman, Jovan Dansberry, Pedro Garza, Jacob Guzman, Mattie Love, Nando Morland and Ron Todorowski grab our attention to mesmerize. Now, that’s entertainment.

A couple of the villains in the piece might be overdrawn here, but that’s debatable. Otherwise, Arden’s direction of his cast is exemplary, and an especially poignant touch is the projection of historic photos that function to introduce their actor doppelgängers. Above all, the fluid and often surreal staging of the Frank murder trial is an extended moment of brilliance in the theater that no musical aficionado should miss.

Under Scott Elliott’s direction, some of the other actors (Patrick Foley, Daniel Oreskes, Bill Sage, Amy Stiller) and their supporting characters almost come off superfluous. (To be honest, that’s often my reaction when I see the original.) The exceptions are David Cale’s wonderfully flighty landowner and Nef, who gives Sasha a droll contralto delivery that starts out ridiculously inappropriate before ending up downright tragic.

“The Wanderers” lasts only 105 minutes without intermission, and yet effectively holds enough storylines for a half dozen lesser plays. We never meet Sophie’s parents, but as pieced together from what she and Esther tell us, they emerge as two of the strongest characters ever to have not graced the stage. Their life together sparkles with energy and could be a whole other play.

“Between Riverside and Crazy” is a play where everyone, including Pops, is a con artist. Guirgis takes his time to expose the duplicity of each of his characters, and the scenes between Pops and the voodoo Church Lady (Liza Colon-Zayas) and his former NYPD partner, Detective O’Connor (Elizabeth Canavan), and her fiancée, Lieutenant Caro (Michael Rispoli), show a major talent writing at full and breathtaking speed. These four gifted actors know precisely how to jockey with each. They do the playwright’s poker-game of words full justice.

With the exception of “Fly, Mariposa, Fly,” you will leave “Some Like It Hot” humming the tunes because you could have hummed them going in. At their very best, John Kander and Fred Ebb knew how to reinvent showbiz pastiche to deliver genuinely original anthems like “All That Jazz” from “Chicago” and the title songs from “Cabaret” and “New York, New York.” Shaiman and Wittman’s work is more journeyman-like; while the lyrics often delight, the music is merely peppy, repetitive and, yes, loud.

Hers is clearly a performance that goes beyond the written words in the script. McDonald’s performance also has that veracity that comes from basing her character on a living person, in this case, Kennedy herself. The actor replicates the playwright’s halting, carefully modulated delivery. It’s as if McDonald is rewriting every line a few times before she actually says it out loud. “Ohio State Murders” features four other actors, but as powerfully staged here by Leon, it is a one-person show starring McDonald.

Eric Ting’s direction is effective when the play is on track. When “The Far Country” goes awry, he leaves his audience lost in the San Francisco fog.

On Broadway the word new is relative. According to the Tony Awards, a new play can be one that had its world premiere Off Broadway or elsewhere around the world a year, two or three ago. According to that definition, “Ain’t No Mo’” is not only the most audacious new play to open on Broadway in 2022. It is also the best new play to open on Broadway this year.

This 'Christmas Carol' comes to an early climax - perhaps too early for the show's own good - when Scrooge is visited by the ghost of Marley, his old business partner in miserliness and nitpicking contempt for humanity. No two actors could achieve what Mays, Stanton and Arden offer up here: the suddenly meek and frightened Scrooge bathed in warm candle light one minute, the commanding and devouring Marley drenched in green stench only a second later. How can any 'Christmas Carol' ever top that kind of theatrical tour de force? The adaptation by Mays, Arden and Susan Lyons never quite rises to the terrifying depths of this encounter between Scrooge and Marley. The production continues to be worth watching, but the humbug curmudgeons in the audience might wonder if maybe, despite the show's theme of stinginess, another actor or two could be hired to handle some of the lighter lifting of Dickens' less indelible characters.

Luke Sheppard's direction of his actors effectively showcases many of the more appealing quirks in Read's characters. When Read's book turns conventional with the nonbinary May, Sheppard turns on the automatic pilot to strand Sullivan in a swamp of schmaltz. Unfortunately, that sticky morass claims many more victims in Act 2. Why do sophisticated TV and film writers resort to hackneyed tropes when they write for the musical stage? Rather than continuing to lampoon the treacly bombast of most new musicals, writers like Read and Cameron Crowe ('Almost Famous') fall prey to it. Even the Hathaway character turns into a Celine Dion manqué, right down to the Vegas echo-chamber amplification to deliver 'That's the Way It Is' as some kind of anthem of oppression.

Something different has happened to David Lindsay-Abaire's play 'Kimberly Akimbo' on its way to becoming a new musical, which opened Thursday at Broadway's Booth Theatre after its debut last winter at the Atlantic Theater Company. It's still funny and quirky and very off-center, but the story of a rapidly aging 16-year-old girl and her deadbeat family has been grounded. No, not grounded in a high school sort of way. Jeanine Tesori's music grounds the story in a way that gives the source material resonance, makes it more substantial and far more emotionally engaging.

Tom Kitt wrote the music for “Next to Normal,” and with “Almost Famous,” he is credited as co-lyricist and composer of most of the score. He is at his best with dreamy ballads like “Morocco,” nicely sung by Pfeiffer, that convey a sense of elusive longing. But after a few of these songs, Kitt’s penchant for the 4/4 time signature becomes a kind of corn syrup poured over the entire score. The real Stillwater songs “Fever Dog” and “I Come at Night” make brief appearances, when the band is practicing or performing onstage. More telling is the use of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” to end Act 1 – a verbatim re-creation of a scene from the movie. What is happening here as the band travels on the road in their bus? Did someone in Stillwater turn on the radio, and having a brief lapse of good taste, prefer Elton John to anything written by Tom Kitt?

Lonny Price directs Byrne's memoir, and too often the staging is overly glitzy, especially with its many dramatic blackouts that signal we're supposed to be awed by what just took place on stage. Byrne's writing is writerly. He's very conscious of wowing us with his poetic description of a nun's waxy hands or a priest's sour breath or the disappearing coastline of Ireland as he travels to a seminary in Great Britain.

Between Boy Willie and Berniece, their uncle Doaker plays peacemaker. It's something of a shock here to see Samuel L. Jackson (husband of LaTanya) put aside his alpha-male persona, honed not only in the movies but in that original 1987 production of 'The Piano Lesson,' in which he played Boy Willie. Our memories of those past, very different performances go a long way toward making this Doaker a most effective referee, even though he consistently agrees with his niece. More visceral is the slow onstage collapse delivered by Michael Potts in the role of the dissolute uncle, Wining Boy. By nearly matching the size and intensity of Washington's performance, Potts shows that his character's inebriated present is more likely to be Boy Willie's future than anything represented by the level-headed Doaker.

John Adams may be the biggest bore ever to be the lead character in an American musical stage. He and others keep telling us what an insufferable pedant he is. Here, Crystal Lucas-Perry plays him as straight and humorless as any male actor ever has. Beyond the nontraditional casting, there's nothing very revolutionary about this lackluster '1776.'

The first time around, I found Jo Bonney's direction a little too measured. Each scene and its revelations unfold at a deliberate, unvaried pace over the course of 100 minutes. She was right, I was wrong. Hers is the right way to direct 'Cost of Living,' but you maybe need to have seen the play twice to realize that.

Michele's version of Fanny Brice instead recalls 'Funny Lady.' And anyone who knows the career of La Streisand knows that to bring up the 1975 big-screen sequel to the 1968 classic 'Funny Girl' is not exactly a compliment. Even Kevin Kline's Babs-loving character in 'In & Out' had to admit the 1975 movie musical in which the star reprised her Oscar-winning role as an older Fanny Brice is dreadful. 'She was under contract!' he apologizes to the bride he has just jilted at the altar when he belatedly comes out of the closet on their wedding day.

Krumholtz and Uranowitz succeed in making Herman and Ludwig's debate in Act 1 absolutely riveting. Stoppard, however, has written Jacob as a one-person screed, and Numrich's over-the-top 'Give me a Tony Award nomination' performance nearly sabotages the act. No help are Jacob's relatives of his generation whom Stoppard has conceived as Jazz Age heathens whose biggest concerns are what America will come up with next after giving them that wonderful dance called the Charleston. Patrick Marber's direction, so nuanced in Act 1, suddenly turns blunt. But then, so does Stoppard's writing.

Spangler's stage adaptation is no 'Night Porter.' Then again, it is no 'Schindler's List' or 'The Damned' either. At the core of 'The Kite Runner' is a case of hidden paternity, the kind that is best left to comedies written in another century.

Brown has the excuse that he's been given the task of writing music for people who can't sing, Bean being the one exception. Green, on the other hand, never comes close to writing lyrics that reflect Young's edgy humor even when that character is singing. At its heart, the musical 'Mr. Saturday Night' is as sentimental as it is dishonest. Under the direction of John Rando, the show entertains only when the title character is being nasty. Reform him, as all his dull relatives insist upon, and he ceases to hold any interest.

Beowulf Boritt's massive West Wing set goes round and round, featuring everything from the chief of staff's office to the ladies' loo, but its ultimate effect is to scatter the comedy all over the place. Williams has the least to do and doesn't look happy doing it. White tries especially hard, screaming to the point that she gives a pretty good vocal imitation of Harvey Fierstein. And Cooper may be the first actor to use breast pumps on a Broadway stage.

This review, minus a few obvious updates, is basically what I wrote about 'A Strange Loop' in 2019. Despite going on to win the Pulitzer Prize, the show has invoked some chat-room gossip that it 'doesn't belong on Broadway.' Yes, that's what they once said about 'Caroline, or Change,' 'Avenue Q,' 'Fun Home' and 'Hamilton' before they hit the big time. Not only does 'Loop' belong on Broadway, it is by far the best new musical to open during this very strange theater season.