Seth Kubersky

Standouts among the scores of supporting characters include Mackenzie Lesser-Roy as Moaning Myrtle, and especially Larry Yando as both Dumbledore and the deliciously droll Snape, who instantly evoke their iconic characters without imitating their cinematic forebears. Ultimately, however, despite a dreary series of 11th-hour scenes attempting to tug on audience’s heartstrings, the fundamental failure of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child’s father-son story to connect emotionally makes all its stagecraft sorcery disappear in a puff of smoke.

However, the joyful ebullience of sing-along classics like "Cherry Cherry" and "I'm a Believer" is repeatedly interrupted by framing scenes of an elderly Diamond (Robert Westenberg) dourly reflecting on his past under the prodding of his psychoanalyst (Lisa Renee Pitts). Although potentially an intriguing premise, Anthony McCarten's book doesn't delve much deeper into Diamond's biography beyond his Wikipedia entry, and its 11th-hour exploration of his foundational generational trauma is given shockingly short shrift.

Stripped of its score, Girl From the North Country would make a fine straight play, so perhaps its biggest surprise is how the musical’s biggest name — 1960s icon Bob Dylan, who contributed nearly two dozen of his classic songs — takes on a supporting role, rather than hogging the spotlight. Unlike virtually every other jukebox musical, Dylan’s songs are not presented diegetically within the context of a biography, nor are they fully integrated into the dramatic storytelling. Instead, music mostly serves as scene transitions, commenting emotionally or thematically on the action without necessarily being literally related to the lyrics.

Standouts among the cast include Michelle Elaine’s sassy Miss Scarlet, Tari Kelly's icy Mrs. White, and Mark Prince in the central role of Wadsworth the butler; his buttoned-up energy is more Ian Holm than Tim Curry, but his hyperkinetic accusatory monologue at the climax is a certified show-stopper. Most of all, John Shartzer steals the production with his spastic slapstick as the Gumby-eqsue Mr. Green, whose slow-motion back-bend puts a CGI-assisted Keanu Reeves to shame.

Perhaps that fraught New York production would still be running if they had cast Katerina McCrimmon, whose performance in the leading role is by far the best reason to see this touring production. McCrimmon is a triple-threat dynamo who holds the audience’s focus every second she’s on stage, boasting a nasal Brooklyn bray in the comedic scenes, and a bell-toned belt for Jule Styne’s soaring tunes like “People” that gave me chills just like a vintage Babs album.

Don’t worry if you don’t remember (or have never seen) Tim Burton’s brilliant Beetlejuice, because book writers Scott Brown & Anthony King retain only the bare bones of Michael McDowell & Larry Wilson’s original screen story, drastically reshuffling plot points and character relationships. But Lydia (Isabella Esler) is still a lonely, afterlife-obsessed teen who befriends Adam (Will Burton) and Barbara (Britney Coleman), a klutzy couple of recently-deceased ghosts. Together, they unwittingly unleash a foul-mouthed demon named Beetlejuice (Justin Collette), whose name must be uttered thrice before he can molest mortals.

With such a wealth of world-class talent, it’s difficult to single out standouts among this enchanted ensemble. Every great fairy tale thrives on its antagonist, and Montego Glover gives a powerhouse interpretation of the not-entirely-wicked Witch whose spiteful curse sets the plot in motion. I was initially distracted by how much costumer Andrea Hood makes Glover look like Yogurt from Spaceballs, but once her inner diva is unleashed she gives Bernadette Peters and Vanessa Williams a run for their money on her iconic “Last Midnight” aria. Gavin Creel’s Prince is a comically callow Ken doll, while David Patrick Kelly (of Twin Peaks fame) makes the oft-reinvented role of Narrator/Mysterious Man feel essential once again.