Roma Torre — Theater Critic

Anyone who’s spent time with high school girls will recognize the four characters in this work struggling to make sense of their lives. But as presented, ||: Girls :||: Chance :||: Music :|| feels less of a fully realized play and more like a character study depicting cliquish teen girl behavior and it drags in spots. By the time Margot states: “It’ll be great when we’re done being teenagers and never have emotions again,” the message is all too clear. These are young women who have lots of growing up to do. If only there was more music to quicken the tempo.

Animal Wisdom could afford some cutting. The first half is filled with a hodgepodge of random observations. We’re told that you must not verbally deny a ghost that you know is in the room; Coca-Cola works better than sacramental wine, and “what they don’t tell you about dying is that you lose chronology. ” All of that is often repeated and it can try your patience. But by the second half, director Keenan Tyler Oliphant takes us to church and it all comes together in a moving crescendo.

The show does not reek of desperation after all. In fact, I think it’s better than the film, even with its flaws. And while none are fatal, there are enough to keep The Lost Boys from achieving that one thing vampires and Broadway musicals desire more than anything else – eternal life.

It takes a great deal of skill to pull off a work that’s as quietly understated as this. The women, interacting in pairs, mostly delve in circular small talk. In lesser hands, the conceit would be a total bore, but the Irish Rep’s minimalist production, directed by Conor Bagley keeps us hooked by planting little clues that allow us to seize on inconsistencies exposing the desperation and lengths the women go to hide their unhappiness.

Of course it helps to have a production team sharing the same vision. This one achieves symmetry with the show’s protagonists who liken their best math theorems to music. Directed by Thomas Kail, it all comes together with a lyrical grace.

Let’s begin with the playwriting. Gionfriddo’s script is lean and mean (quite literally). With just five characters she crafts a compelling story about damaged souls tied together by fate and desperation. Two of them spew unvarnished truth like rattlesnakes spitting out venom. And while it’s loaded with zingers, there’s nothing contrived here. The lines are as perceptive as they are brutally funny.

Bernthal tackles the role with gusto. His shouting and bluster are covers for a guy with a good heart. At one point he says “Admittedly we’re off to a rough start…this is my first robbery.” And it’s fun to watch him relish his newfound platform as a folk hero who sees himself as a defender of the city’s disenfranchised. Sonny’s ultimate motive involves a gay component which, in 1975, must have been rather shocking. Even today, it elicited some startled gasps from the audience. The introduction of Sonny’s “wife”, Leon (Esteban Andres Cruz), allows Bernthal to display a tender side. And the brutal honesty in their scene together is touchingly poignant.

Simply put, Public Charge is not very good theater, but as a docudrama, it’s an important work that deserves to be seen. The story is true as told through the eyes of former diplomat and co-writer Julissa Reynoso who created the play with Michael J. Chepiga. In episodic fashion, it takes us through Reynoso’s (Zabryna Guevara) experiences from 1981 as a young girl in the Dominican Republic straight to her career in government where she rises to become US Ambassador to Uruguay in 2011.

David Ireland knows how to touch a nerve with his biting dialogue. As sparks fly, nasty truths emerge between his three characters; and the humor is strikingly dark. There were intermittent gasps throughout the 80 minute one-act as audience members were stunned to hear the obscene comments that flew so off-handedly out of Jay’s mouth.

As a mother of two, whenever I learn that a family member or friend has just given birth, I often say “Welcome to the agony and ecstasy of parenthood.” And in many cases, it’s the mom who bears the brunt of it. If you want to experience what the worst of it looks like, you can get a crash course in Meat Suit, or the shitshow of motherhood.

Data is a serious play but there is humor, almost exclusively in the hands of Jonah who knows his limitations but compensates by taking on the persona of an over-stimulated dude. Brandon Flynn is that guy to a T, and all the more impressive after seeing him play Marlon Brando so convincingly off Broadway in Kowalski

Did it work? I’m sure not for everyone. This is, after all, the first effort in what I’d call a high-tech existential thought experiment. But despite all the hoopla about the innovative technology, the play’s still very much the thing here, and this is a sweet one.

It’s the same excellent cast from Steppenwolf’s production in Chicago five years ago. But it feels even more relevant now. America’s history of conducting secret experiments on unwitting human guinea pigs planted ample seeds of doubt about our institutions. And today that distrust has only metastasized amid the acute madness of social media-fueled disinformation. Letts cites Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh as inspiration for the play. It’s terrifying to consider how many more are out there.

Spelling bee participants are an odd lot. Full disclosure, I was one of them way back in the day. It’s a terribly vulnerable time for most children that age. Finn’s song “Pandemonium” captures the angst and confusion they experience. The show plays it mostly for laughs but it has the added elements of insight and wisdom. For that reason, anyone raising children may need to see it even more than their kids. It’s not just entertaining and funny, it offers much to learn about family dynamics; and when it all aligns, it’s a perfect syzygy.

When Bess Wohl’s play Liberation premiered off-Broadway last winter it was revelatory. Despite some structural weaknesses that remain, it’s a beautiful work featuring an ensemble of actors at the top of their game. It’s no wonder the production transferred to Broadway totally intact.

The imagery gets a big boost from lighting designers Adam Honoré and Donald Holder’s exquisite palette attaching distinctive shades of light to each of the main groups, and framing them in monochromatic bands painted overhead. And costumer Linda Cho did a terrific job expertly evoking the period, the class and the temperament of the characters. But even without the technical enhancements, the production would still soar given the bravura talents – all 41 actors and 28 musicians – gracing the Vivian Beaumont stage.

Good storytelling is not only key to selling merchandise, it’s essential to musical theater. And while the production at the Laura Pels Theatre has much to offer – most especially a bravura star turn from Betsy Wolfe – the book by Ken Davenport falls rather short in selling Joy’s rags-to-riches story on the live stage.

Smart brings the character to vivid life but she can only do so much to engage the audience when the writing falls short. [...] And yet even with Smart’s bravura acting and the extreme cruelty Izzy experiences, the playwriting never quite manages the emotional depth that the story requires.

At its best, the production, incisively directed by Kate Whoriskey, is a moving and sometimes humorous portrait of two aging midwesterners staring their mortality in the face and re-assessing their lives together. Both have deep regrets and the more we learn about them, the more we can identify with their loss and introspection.

That raucous “Conga” number never fails to disappoint as Ruth frantically tries to interview a group of Brazilian sailors who just want to dance the Conga. It’s the Act One closer and yet I couldn’t help but notice several people seated around me didn’t return for Act Two. The last Broadway revival of Wonderful Town stemmed from a highly lauded Encores! production in 2000. How, I wonder, could the same show yield such different results? Hard to say but I bet if only the creatives had decided to stage it as a concert version this time around, we’d all be singing its praises.

In the end, we’re left with the recognition that these foreign born characters represent the majority of migrants seeking refuge in this country. All they want is a decent life, free of the violence and poverty they left behind. And yet, more and more, they face challenges that make it nearly impossible to survive, let alone afford a decent life for their families. As the characters talk about feeling powerless, the audience is touched in a way that no other medium can do. The best works don’t just entertain us, they move our hearts and minds. This is the power of great theater.

At its most chaotic, Irishtown brings to mind Noises Off, that classic farce about staging a play within a play in the British hinterland. Comedy, as they say, is hard; and it takes tremendous discipline and timing to pull it off. Under the tight direction of Nicola Murphy Dubey the company mostly meets the challenge though the humor occasionally seems forced. Still it’s quite a trip watching talented actors frantically portraying desperate actors acting badly.

It’s overstuffed with silliness like that, and Susan Stroman, who usually has some clever tricks up her sleeve, isn’t able to rein this one in. Her direction wants Smash to be a smash with lots of show-stopping numbers featuring over-amped singers fit for American Idol. But it feels more like a parody of an old-fashioned musical that loses its way with every nutty idea thrown into the mix. And that’s unfortunate considering the A-list roster of talent involved in this production.

It really would take a lot more than one case of miscasting to tank this play. That misstep aside, the production remains highly entertaining. In addition to Odenkirk, Burr and McKean’s standout performances, Donald Webber, Jr. as the stoic office manager Williamson, and John Pirruccello’s turn as Roma’s target – the indecisive schlub James Lingk – are both excellent.

This is not story theater as one might imagine. It is a wondrous merging of technical wizardry, clever stagecraft and incomparable artistry. As you enter the theater, there’s little more than a giant screen suspended on a bare stage. When it begins, we hear Snook’s voice narrating the scene set in an artist’s studio as we meet the artist Basil Hallward and his friend Lord Henry Wotton discussing Basil’s portrait of Dorian Gray, a young man they find “wonderfully handsome.” Snook appears on the giant screen as Dorian, and magically she also becomes the two older men as they all converse about “a new hedonism” that worships the beauty of youth above all else.