Once Upon a Mattress

B+

The widely acclaimed Encores production of this 1959 Broadway show with music by Mary Rogers, book by Jay Thompson, Marshall Barer and Dean Fuller, and lyrics by Barer has transferred comfortably to the Hudson Theatre. The book, which sometimes seems patched together and a bit padded, is a sly retelling of the fairy tale of The Princess and the Pea. Sutton Foster, with the unenviable task of following in the footsteps of Carol Burnett, who created the role of Princess Winnifred, is a resounding success. Her madcap physical humor raises slapstick to astral heights and her voice is fine too. She is the main reason to see the show. Until she appears well into the first act, things are becoming a bit draggy, but when she is onstage, the audience is fully engaged. One of the main reasons I wanted to see the show was because Michael Urie was playing Prince Dauntless. Unfortunately, he was out for my performance. His understudy, Daniel Beeman, was perfectly respectable, but lacked the extra spark that Urie brings to his roles.  Ana Gasteyer makes a fine strong-willed Queen Aggravain and David Patrick Kelly does well as King Sextimus the Silent. Will Chase and Nikki Renee Daniels are appealing as the young lovers, Sir Harry and Lady Larken. Brooks Ashmanskas is droll as the wizard. Daniel Breaker does what he can with the underwritten role of the jester. The scenic design by David Zinn is typical for a show that originated at Encores, with a few platforms deep enough to hold chairs and other props in front of the orchestra filling the back of the stage. There are lots of banners, some with anachronistic pictures, e.g. a NYC taxi, for which I did not see the point. The costumes by Andrea Hood are bright and colorful. The choreography by Lauren Latarro is lively. The direction by Lear deBessonet keeps thing moving smoothly. The music serves the show well and the lyrics are often clever. If your funny bone could use a good tickle, this is the show for you. Running time: two hours fifteen minutes including intermission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                 

Make Believe

A-

Bess Wohl (Small Mouth Sounds, Continuity), one of our most promising young playwrights, is in top form with this bracing new work about a dysfunctional family, now at Second Stage Theater. Wohl bravely entrusts the first half of the play to child actors who play the Conlee family’s four children—Chris (Ryan Foust; Mary Page Marlowe), age 12; Kate (Maren Heary), age 10; Addie (Casey Hilton), age 7; and Carl (Harrison Fox), age 5. When we meet them, they are at play in the enormous playroom that takes up most of the attic of their suburban home. Their usual after-school snacks are missing and their mother is inexplicably absent. As their father is away on business, they find themselves unexpectedly on their own. They have been instructed never to answer the phone, but they learn from a series of voice messages that they avidly listen to through the floorboards that their mother has not shown up for her beauty salon appointment or her book club. As they play house to pass the time, they reveal their understanding of their parents’ toxic marriage. Chris alternates between bully and protector, at one point showing up with two bags of food and a six-pack of beer that he has mysteriously acquired. Kate fantasizes that Princess Grace is her real mother. Addie lavishes attention on her Cabbage Patch doll. Carl contentedly plays the family dog. Eventually we see them all dressed up to leave with their father for an unknown occasion. The action smoothly shifts about 30 years forward when four adults—Kate (Samantha Mathis; 33 Variations, Nomad Motel), Addie (Susannah Flood; Love and Information, Tribes), Carl (Brad Heberlee; A Life, Small Mouth Sounds) and Chris (Kim Fischer; Then She Fell)—are gathered for a funeral. In an extended scene we observe how their adult versions relate to their childhood. We get a clearer understanding of what actually happened before and a few surprises about one of the siblings. We see how each person deals with loss, which, in one case, is extremely moving. I will say no more because I don’t want to spoil the experience. Wohl skillfully knits together the story with humor, suspense and sympathy. There are a few missteps; a close analysis would turn up some holes in the plot, but while you are watching, it is completely absorbing and affecting. The actors, both children and adults, are uniformly strong. The production values are top-notch. The playroom designed by David Zinn (Choir Boy, Torch Song) is inviting and the costumes by Emilio Sosa (On Your Feet!, The Light) are apt. The lighting design by Ben Stanton and sound design by Bray Poor make substantial contributions. Michael Greif (Dear Evan Hansen, Parallelogram) negotiates the play’s rapid shifts and moods skillfully. It is by far the most interesting play I have seen this summer. Running time: 85 minutes; no intermission.

The Waverly Gallery

C

Buoyed by the success of the revivals of This Is Our Youth and Lobby Hero, the powers that be thought it would be a good idea to bring back Kenneth Lonergan’s semi-autobiographical 2000 memory play about a dementia-addled octogenarian and the effects of her illness on her loving but frazzled family. Eileen Heckart’s powerful performance in the central role of Gladys made the original production a must-see event, even though the play was not one of Lonergan’s stronger efforts. I regret to say that Elaine May (California Suite, Luv) is no match for Ms. Heckart. The limited range of her facial expression weakens her performance and, therefore, the play itself. The actors playing her family are all strong. For me, the main reason to attend is to see the wonderful Joan Allen (Burn This, The Heidi Chronicles) onstage again, playing her daughter Ellen. David Cromer (Our Town) captures the well-meaning but clumsy behavior of Ellen’s second husband Howard. Lucas Hedges (Yen), in his Broadway debut, plays the long-suffering grandson whose apartment is just down the hall from Gladys’s and who therefore bears the brunt of dealing with her decline. He has the additional burden of narrating the play. A not very well-integrated subplot involves a naive, unsuccessful artist, Don (Michael Cera; Lobby Hero), just arrived in New York, whom Gladys befriends and installs in the back room of her failing Greenwich Village gallery. Even though Gladys fulfills his dream of a one-man show, he becomes disillusioned with life in New York. On the one hand, Cera avoids most of his usual annoying mannerisms; on the other, he does not create a very vivid character. I found it uncomfortable to laugh at Gladys’s behavior, knowing its source and its eventual outcome. There was no conflict within the family how to take care of Gladys and little insight provided about her illness or the best way to mitigate its effects. Perhaps it was cathartic for the author to describe her decline, but, in my opinion, there is little payoff for the audience. Without a really mesmerizing Gladys, the play’s weaknesses become more apparent. David Zinn’s (The Humans) set presents four distinct locations that are revealed behind a brick-wall front curtain. Old film clips of New York are projected on the wall between scenes. Perhaps director Lila Neugebauer (The Antipodes, At Home at the Zoo) could have found more depth in the play; perhaps not. Running time: two hours ten minutes including intermission.

The Boys in the Band

A-

Mart Crowley’s groundbreaking 1968 play has always evoked a variety of reactions. While many praised it for presenting the first unapologetic look at a group of gay characters onstage, others condemned it because these characters displayed so much self-loathing. I try to keep in mind that the play is set at a moment before Stonewall drastically changed gay life and provided an outlet for internalized homophobia. Crowley’s characters find refuge with each other against a hostile world. I am also saddened as I think back to the original production by the knowledge that many members of the cast later died from the as-yet unknown scourge of AIDS. The idea that a 50th anniversary production would be mounted on Broadway with a star-studded cast of out gay actors would have seemed inconceivable in 1968. And so it was with a lot of baggage that I arrived at the Booth Theatre. I had forgotten just how funny the dialogue is with its many bitchy outbursts. I had also forgotten how nasty the play turns during its final third. The cast is uniformly strong. In the crucial role of Michael, the host of the evening’s party, Jim Parsons (Harvey, The Normal Heart, "The Big Bang Theory") delivers. When he turns vicious after a few drinks, it is truly shocking. Zachary Quinto (The Glass Menagerie) delivers the goods as Harold, the self-hating pockmarked birthday boy. Matt Bomer ("White Collar," "The Normal Heart") is a sympathetic — and very buff — Donald, the underachiever who stands by Michael. Andrew Rannells (Falsettos, The Book of Mormon) is fine as Larry, whose promiscuity threatens his relationship with the uptight Hank (Tuc Watkins; White Lies), who has left a wife and two children for Larry. Robin de Jesus (In the Heights) is wonderful as the unabashedly effeminate Emory. Michael Benjamin Washington (Mamma Mia!) is quietly moving as the only African-American in the group. Charlie Carver ("Desperate Housewives") is a hoot as Cowboy, the hustler Emory has bought Harold for his birthday. Brian Hutchison (Man and Boy) plays the problematic role of Alan, Michael’s college roommate, who makes an unexpected appearance. David Zinn’s (Amelie, Fun Home) bilevel apartment set is guaranteed to elicit real estate envy. His costumes are also excellent. Director Joe Mantello (Three Tall Women, The Humans) has done his usual fine work with this fine ensemble. I still have problems with some of the play’s structure. The telephone game that fills most of the last 40 minutes seems both artificial and vicious. Michael’s attempt to manipulate Alan seems out of context. However, there is no escaping how hilarious much of the play is, which goes a long way toward forgiving its shortcomings. Running time: one hour 55 minutes, no intermission.

The Amateurs

C

With the success of Marjorie Prime, expectations for playwright Jordan Harrison’s new play at the Vineyard Theatre were high. After his Pulitzer-nominated play set in the near future, Harrison has shifted his focus to 14th-century Europe during The Black Death. We follow a traveling theatrical group working on their new production of the mystery play “Noah’s Flood,” which they hope will win the approval of the local duke and, thereby, a safe refuge from the plague. We meet Larking (Thomas Jay Ryan; The Crucible. 10 out of 12), the pompous leader of the troupe who, of course, plays God. Roma (Jennifer Kim; Gloria), perhaps the most unpleasant person in the troupe, is pregnant. Hollis (Quincy Tyler Bernstine; Grand Concourse, Ruined), who is mourning the recent death of her brother, occasionally gets so wrapped up in speculating about the motivation for her lines that she goes blank onstage. The quiet Brom (Kyle Bertran; Head of Passes, Fortress of Solitude) is riddled with guilt over a secret relationship. Gregory (Michael Cyril Creighton; Stage Kiss), the troupe’s all-around handyman, is deemed by Larking too simple and too unattractive to appear onstage. A mysterious stranger The Physic (Greg Keller; Animal, Belleville) joins the troupe. About midway through the play, the author breaks the fourth wall: Creighton reappears as a character representing the playwright to discuss the origins of the play in his own experience of a more recent plague, to speculate about the emergence of the concept of the individual and to question the proper role of art in society. After this extended interlude, the play proper resumes. Maybe I am old-fashioned, but I feel the playwright should show us in the play what his intent is, rather than interrupt the play to tell us about it. The uniformly fine cast deserves better than this. David Zinn’s (Fun Home, The Humans) scenic design with its theater on wheels is a delight. Jessica Pabst’s (Can You Forgive Her?, Marjorie Prime) period costumes are excellent. Oliver Butler’s (The Light Years, The Open House) direction is unfussy. Even though the playwright’s attempt to do something different misfires, it fails interestingly. I look forward to seeing what he will try next. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

Torch Song

A-

I was worried about seeing Second Stage’s revival of Harvey Fierstein’s award winning play for a  couple of reasons. First, I was afraid that a script that seemed so fresh and daring in 1982 might seem merely tired and dated today. Secondly, I feared that Fierstein's indelible performance in the original might prevent me from appreciating Michael Urie. Fortunately I needn’t have worried on either count. I had forgotten how ahead of his time Fierstein was in his treatment of long-term gay relationships and gay adoption and how forcefully he dealt with the importance of living an authentic life. As to Urie (Buyer and Cellar; The Government Inspector), he has made Arnold Beckoff, the Jewish drag queen from Brooklyn,  his own. It’s a different Arnold from Fierstein’s, but an equally valid one. He knows how to get the laughs without straining for them. It helps that he is supported by an excellent cast: Ward Horton as Ed, the bisexual teacher Arnold has an off-and-on affair with; Roxanna Hope Radja as Laurel, Ed’s long-suffering girlfriend; Michael Rosen (On the Town) as Alan, the young model Arnold takes up with after Ed; Jack DiFalco (Marvin’s Room) as David, the gay teenager Arnold is foster parenting; and Mercedes Ruehl (Lost in Yonkers, Other People’s Money) as Arnold’s mother [a role originated by Estelle Getty]. The first act, “International Stud,” set in 1971, is named after a Village gay bar with a notorious backroom where a key scene takes place. The second act “Fugue in a Nursery,” set three years later, is formally clever but lacks emotional punch. The final act “Widows and Children First,” set in 1980, is the longest and most dramatic. In my opinion, it could use a bit of a trim. The direction by Moises Kaufman has many grace notes throughout. The scenic design by David Zinn captures the period, as do the costumes by Clint Ramos. I was happy to find the play alive and kicking and still able to provide an entertaining evening. Running time: two hours 45 mintues including intermission.

For Peter Pan on Her 70th Birthday

D

Among my many quirks is a longtime inexplicable aversion to Peter Pan and anything or anyone closely related to it, Mary Martin included. Therefore, I probably should have skipped the Playwrights Horizons production of this play based on Sarah Ruhl’s memories of growing up in a large Irish Catholic family in Iowa. However, since I have enjoyed some of her plays (Stage Kiss, The Oldest Boy, In the Next Room or The Vibrator Play) and have been a keen admirer of both Kathleen Chalfant (Wit) and Lisa Emery (Marjorie Prime, Six Degrees of Separation), I decided to take a chance on it. Big mistake. The play is structured as three long scenes. After a charming monologue by Chalfant in front of the curtain, we move to the hospital room where five middle-aged siblings played by Chalfant, Daniel Jenkins, Keith Reddin, David Chandler and Emery have gathered for the impending death of their father (Ron Crawford). Because Chalfant’s relative age reads older, it took me a while to realize that she was their sister and not their mother. The excruciating death scene seemed interminable, even without the long pauses that director Les Waters has inserted. The long middle scene presents the five siblings sitting around a table drinking Irish whiskey and reminiscing. Whenever sharp political differences threaten to intrude, younger sister Wendy (Emery) restores the peace. This scene also has a fantastical element which I will not divulge. In the long final scene, the siblings have been transported to Neverland as Peter Pan, Wendy, the Lost Boys and Captain Hook. Allusions to reluctant adulthood and mortality abound. Also, there’s a well-staged sword fight and some neat flying. The acting is strong. The set by David Zinn opens up nicely for the final scene. Kristopher Castle’s costumes are apt. Since the play clearly has deep personal meaning for Ruhl and was written as a gift to her mother, who actually played Peter Pan in her youth, it pains me to be so negative about it. Nevertheless, at no point did the play really engage me. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission. It seemed much longer.

A Doll’s House, Part 2

A-

It is virtually unheard of these days for a new play to arrive on Broadway without having at least one regional production first. Received wisdom has it that there’s no audience for new American plays on Broadway. The enthusiastic reception given Lucas Hnath’s clever new play at the Golden Theatre suggests that rules are made to be broken. When Jayne Houdyshell gets prolonged entrance applause, you know you’re not in a typical Broadway audience. It’s even more surprising that the play, presented as a sequel to the mirthless Ibsen classic, turns out to be hilariously funny. I decided to attend with some trepidation because I had been disappointed in the two previous Hnath plays I had seen — The Christians and Red Speedo.  Sometimes the third time is a charm. From the first moment, I was engaged by this version of what happened to Nora Helmer 15 years after she left her family. Hnath has written four juicy roles for four fine actors. Laurie Metcalf (The Other Place), always worth seeing, shines as Nora. Houdyshell (The Humans, Well), a Tony-winning treasure, is delightful as Anne Marie, the longtime family servant. Chris Cooper brings depth and nuance to the role of Torvald. Condola Rashad (Ruined) is cool and collected as daughter Emmy. Heath’s snappy, dialogue is anachronistically modern. So are the sparse furnishings in Miriam Beuther’s thrust set — two pairs of Scandinavian Modern chairs, a small table with a box of Kleenex, and a large plant. On the other hand, David Zinn’s costumes are faithful to the period. The oversize door, perhaps the most famous one in modern drama, is on a wall that reaches to an enormous height. The thought-provoking plot balances the conflicting motivations of each character, when each is forced to make a choice that will affect the others. It’s almost too formulaic and the ending, for me, was less than satisfying. Except for punctuating the scenes by blackouts with the characters’ names projected in huge letters on the set, Sam Gold’s direction (The Glass Menagerie, Fun House) is unfussy. I could have done without the loud percussive pop music that preceded the play. Nevertheless, the play’s strengths far outweigh any weaknesses.. And you don’t really need to know Ibsen’s play to enjoy this one. It was an extremely worthwhile 90 minutes of theater

How To Transcend a Happy Marriage

B-

In case the bird-headed huntress featured on James McMullan’s wonderful poster for Sarah Ruhl’s new play at Lincoln Center Theater is insufficient warning to expect something unusual, the dead goat hanging upside down over the living room set should surely do the job. An attractive young woman removes it from the hook and carries it off before the play proper begins. A fortyish couple, George (Marisa Tomei) [was it really necessary for the playwright to name the female lead George?] and Paul (Oscar Metwally) are having dinner at the suburban home of their closest friends, Jane (Robin Weigert) and Michael (Brian Hutchison). Jane mentions Pip (Lena Hall), a temp in her office who is both polyamorous and hunts her own meat. They are all intrigued and decide to invite Pip and her two live-in lovers, Freddie (David McElwee) and David (Austin Smith) for a New Year’s Eve party. The party proceeds rather well as they discover such common interests as Pythagoras and Shakespeare. They move on to a karaoke session that spins out of control. Their revels are interrupted by the untimely arrival home of the hosts’ 16-year-old daughter Jenna (Naian Gonzalez Norvind.) The dialogue is smart, funny and sexy, the actors have achieved a fine ensemble and the direction is seamless, once again demonstrating how well-attuned Rebecca Taichman (The Oldest Boy) is to Ruhl’s sensibility. The set design by David Zine and costumes by Susan Hilferty are first-rate. While the first act is nearly perfect, the play has serious second-act problems. An attempt by Pip to teach George to hunt deer has unfortunate consequences. In the scene that follows, there is a sudden introduction of possibly magical events, which, to me, weakens rather than strengthens the play. Freddie and David become mere plot contrivances. Worst of all, we are forced to question or even invalidate what we have seen with our own eyes in the first act. The play partially recovers its footing, but not soon enough to restore all the positive feelings it generated before intermission. While I have no problem with magical realism, I don't feel it works here. The points that I thought Ruhl wanted to make about the limits or limitlessness of love and the difficulties of parent and child to acknowledge each other’s sexuality do not need magical embellishment. It’s a flawed play with a very enjoyable first act. Running time: one hour 50 minutes including intermission.

Hir **

This play by downtown performance artist Taylor Mac, now in previews at Playwrights Horizons, might be called a kitchen sink drama, but the sink is filled with dirty dishes and the drama is covered by a thick layer of absurdist comedy. This semi-autobiographical play presents a family living on the edge in Stockton, California. Paige (the always wonderful Kristine Nielsen), the mother, is getting her revenge on her stroke-diminished husband Arnold (Daniel Orestes) for the years of abuse he subjected her and her children to by dressing him up in women’s clothes, clown wig and makeup and keeping him overmedicated. Teen-age daughter Maxine has become Max (Tom Phelan), a transgendered young man sporting a scruffy beard. Paige is home schooling Max to protect hir (the transgender pronoun) from bullying. Paige is convinced that a new golden age is arising where gender fluidity is the norm and patriarchal power is a thing of the past. Early in the play older son Isaac (a strong Cameron Scoggins) returns home after three years in a Marine mortuary unit in Afghanistan. He is shocked by what he finds — a cluttered home worthy of the Collyer brothers, a barely coherent father, a sister turned brother and a newly assertive mother. This is not the comforting home he hoped to return to. A power struggle between Isaac and Paige ensues. The play’s frequently hilarious moments do not hide the underlying sadness. Paige’s philosophy seemed half-baked and its presentation, repetitious. A certain amount of chaos is necessary to the play, but there was too much for my taste. Any play that offers Kristine Nielsen a starring role is worth seeing in my book, but this play puts that to the test. David Zinn’s set is a cluttered wonder. Gabriel Berry’s costumes suit their characters well. Director Niegel Smith’s direction is assured. Running time: one hour 50 minutes including intermission.

The Humans ***

Stephen Karam’s new play joins a long list of theater works and films about Thanksgiving family dinners from Hell. The very Irish Blake family are gathered in the Chinatown apartment into which younger daughter Brigid (Sarah Steele) and her boyfriend Richard (Arian Moayed) have just moved. The blue-collar parents Erik (Reed Birney) and Deirdre (Jayne Houdyshell) have driven in from Scranton with Erik’s demented mother Fiona (Lauren Klein) for the occasion. Older sister Aimee (Cassie Beck), an attorney in Philadelphia, is also there. In the wake of 9/11 and Superstorm Sandy, Erik is upset that Brigid’s ground-level-and-below duplex apartment is both in a flood zone and near Ground Zero. During the course of dinner, we learn some of the other fears that afflict the family members. Economic insecurity continues to play an important role in all their lives. Thwarted careers, health issues, fragile relationships, recurring nightmares and other problems beset them as well. The characters seem very real and the authentic dialogue illustrates their skill at pushing each other’s buttons. The playwright has chosen to make the apartment, with its sudden loud noises and its abruptly failing lighting, a metaphor — a rather clumsy one, in my opinion —for the entropy in the characters’ lives. Karam treats his characters with compassion. The acting is very strong and the situations are mostly easy to empathize with. However, the play loses steam toward the end and the final moments were a disappointment. Nevertheless, its strengths far outweigh its weaknesses. The bilevel under-furnished apartment set by David Zinn provides an apt background for the action. I didn’t even notice Sarah Laux’s costumes, which is a good thing. Joe Mantello’s direction is confident without being showy. While I don’t feel that the play is on a par with Karam’s excellent “Sons of the Prophet,” it still has much to recommend it. Running time: one hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

NOTE: Try to avoid seats in the first few rows because you will be too close to see a substantial part of the set’s upper level.

Fondly, Collette Richland *

The first thing you should know about this collaboration between Elevator Repair Service  (Gatz, The Select, Arguendo and The Sound and the Fury) and playwright Sibyl Kempson is that at least one-fourth of the audience did not return after intermission. If coherence and intelligibility are among your requirements for a theatrical experience, this new play at New York Theatre Workshop is definitely not for you. It has plenty of interesting characters, a clever set by David Zinn, Inspired costumes by Jacob A. Climer and Zinn and an intricate sound design by Ben Williams, assisted by Gavin Price. Unfortunately these strong points are overwhelmed by the lack of a discernible narrative arc and an unfortunate tendency to pile on the surreal and the ridiculous beyond what the play can bear. The plot, to the extent that one exists, involves a middle age couple Fritz (Vin Knight) and Mabrel (Laurena Allan) FItzhubert whose supper is interrupted by the arrival of Local Representative Wheatsun (Greig Sergeant). They show him a tiny door within the house that eventually leads them to a Grand Hotel in the Alps populated by a motley array of guests and staff. Once there, things grow increasingly incomprehensible. Nativism and ancient Rome are somehow involved. The terrific cast seem to be having a wonderful time. Notable are Mike Iveson as a priest who narrates the first part of the play while playing the piano and later plays a hotel waiter, April Matthis as the title character (a radio show host) and Fritz’s sister Dora, and Susie Sokol as a Cat Butler (really!) and the hotel’s milkmaid. I will confess that I had several chuckles along the way, but became restless during the second act when the fun became increasingly labored. ERS founder John Collins directed. Perhaps ERS should rethink the idea of working with playwrights. They did far better when they started with an existing text. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes including intermission.

10 out of 12 **

Is it a coincidence that two promising playwrights named “Anne” or “Annie” have written lengthy plays set in a workplace that involves show business? First Annie Baker gave us The Flick, about the employees of a run-down movie theater. Now Anne Washburn (Mr. Burns: a Post-Electric Play) has penned a sly comedy about the actors, creative staff and backstage crew preparing for the opening of a play in a downtown Manhattan theater not unlike Soho Rep, where the show is playing. The production’s concept is a clever one: each audience member is given a listening device to follow the conversations of stage manager (Quincy Tyler Bernstine) and crew during the upcoming play’s tech rehearsal. For those not in the know, in which group I include myself, the “tech” is a long, tedious process in which all the elements of the play including lighting, sound design, costumes and set are finalized. The play’s title refers to the union rule that people may not work more than 10 hours in a 12-hour period. The actors in the play-within-a play (Gibson Frazier, Nina Hellman, Sue Jean Kim, David Ross and Thomas Jay Ryan) must deal with a director (Bruce McKenzie) who makes Hamlet look decisive by comparison. As the long rehearsal drags on, the work falls further and further behind schedule. Boredom and fatigue take their toll. Tempers flare and egos burst. Seeing Ryan lose his cool is one of the play’s greatest pleasures. It all ends with a Kumbaya moment that seemed only partially earned. While I admired the concept, I had problems with the execution. There are frequent boring passages, which I realize is part of the point, but nevertheless taxed my patience. There were many entertaining moments too but the fractured structure never came together for me. David Zinn’s set and Asta Bennie Hostetter’s costumes work well and Les Waters’s direction is sharp. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes including intermission.

An Act of God ***

David Javerbaum, the winner of 13 Emmy awards for his work as head writer on The Daily Show, has adapted his book The Last Testament: A Memoir by God and his comedic twitter feed @TheTweetOfGod to create a star vehicle for Jim Parsons of The Big Bang Theory fame. If none of these references has awakened at least a tingle of anticipation in you, this is a show you can skip. Nor should you attend if you are arch-conservative, homophobic or anti-Semitic. Parsons portrays the Almighty as a volatile figure with wrath-management issues, who enjoys dropping one liners in profusion. Tired of the existing Ten Commandments, he has come up with a new set that he finds more suitable for our times. As he retells familiar bible stories from his unique point of view, he is assisted by the archangels Gabriel (Tim Kazurinsky), who intones an appropriate passage from his Gutenberg bible from time to time, and Michael (Christopher Fitzgerald), who roams the audience with a mic to take questions for God and asks some difficult ones of his own. Depending on your sensibility, the prevailing spirit is either hilarious irreverence or offensive blasphemy. My own response favored the former, although there were a few times that things crossed the line a bit. The production, at Studio 54, features an elegant white set by Scott Pask beautifully lit by Hugh Vanstone and enhanced by Peter Nigrini’s projections and Gregory Meeh’s special effects. David Zinn’s costumes are droll. Joe Mantello’s direction is assured and uncluttered. It’s not for everyone, but Parsons fans will leave happy. Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission.

The Flick (Second Try) **

I can hardly believe that I went back to see the revival of Annie Baker’s workplace dramedy, now at Barrow Street Theatre with the original cast and production team intact. When it premiered  at Playwrights Horizons two years ago, I fled (along with a good portion of the audience) at intermission. Since it subsequently won the Pulitzer Prize,  I was curious to see whether staying for Act Two might have changed my mind. To some extent, it did improve my opinion of the play. Here’s what I had to say two years ago:

The Flick (Act One) *

Annie Baker may be one of our most acclaimed young playwrights (and Sam Gold, one of the hottest young directors), but I must confess with some sadness that I don't "get" her work. I find her closely observed scenes of ordinary people doing everyday things boring and banal. I was astounded that "Circle Mirror Transformation" won an Obie and is among one of today's most frequently produced plays. Her new play at Playwrights Horizons chronicles the relationships of employees of a slightly seedy movie theater in small-town Massachusetts, likely soon to be a victim of the move to digital projection. Sam (Matthew Maher), a man in his late 30's, is breaking in a new employee, Avery (Aaron Clifton Moten), a depressed black 20-year-old. Rose (Louisa Krause), the green-haired, free-spirited projectionist, takes a shine to Avery. Alex Hanna plays a man who falls asleep in the theater. Perhaps he was destined for greater things in Act Two. I'll never know. After 90 minutes of watching Sam and Avery clean the theater numerous times and having the bright light of the projector repeatedly shined in the audience's eyes, I had had enough. The thought of returning after intermission for another 90 minutes of same was not appealing. I did enjoy seeing David Zinn's perfect recreation of a movie theater. I wish I could join the Annie Baker fan club, but clearly that is never going to happen. Running time: 3 hours, plus a 15 minute intermission.

This time around, I found the first act less annoying, because I knew in advance that there would be very little action in any traditional sense. Baker’s mastery of the mundane does hold a certain fascination and the excellence of the cast merits appreciation. She nails the boring repetitiveness of low-paying jobs and the rewards and limitations of workplace relationships. Nevertheless, I could not escape the feeling that playwright and director were testing the audience to see how much (or how little) they could get away with. Very few people left at intermission this time. Act Two was worth hanging around for. It deepens the portrayal of Avery and Sam, but does not shed much light on what makes Rose tick. There is a narrative arc of sorts, at least for Avery.

There were a few surprising weaknesses. Much of Sam’s big speech in Act Two was inaudible even from the second row. In a couple of scenes the actors were facing away from the audience as they spoke. 

I guess I’ll have to accept the fact Annie Baker’s close observations of the quotidian simply do not appeal to me.

Airline Highway *

Playwright Lisa D’Amour was a Pulitzer nominee for Detroit. Chicago’s Steppenwolf is a multi-award-winning ensemble theater company with an enviable record of successful transfers to Broadway including August: Osage County. Joe Mantello is a two-time Tony Award-winning director. Julie White is an excellent actress. Putting them all together for this Manhattan Theatre Club import must have seemed like a good idea. It wasn’t. Despite the talented cast of 16, the splendid scenic design (by Scott Pask) and the evocative costumes (by David Zinn), the results are curiously flat. The play takes us through one day at the Hummingbird Hotel, a place that has seen better days and that is now frequented mostly by people who live on the margins of society. We meet a pill-addicted hooker (White), a stripper (Caroline Neff), an unhandy handyman (Tim Edward Rhoze), a wise drag queen (K. Todd Freeman), a poet (Ken Marks) and the hotel manager (Scott Jaeck). At the request of Miss Ruby (Judith Roberts), the dying former strip club owner who serves as materfamilias to the residents and who wants to enjoy her own funeral, they are planning a party for her in the hotel parking lot. Bait Boy (Joe Tippett), a former club employee who was swept off by a wealthy older woman from Atlanta three years before, has returned for the party. In the play’s most unlikely device, he has brought along his gal pal’s teenaged daughter (Carolyn Braver) to interview the denizens of the hotel for a high school report on subcultures. The playwright’s point of view is obscure. The play offers not much heat and very little light. In no way does it provide the emotional payoff of Lanford Wilson’s far-better models, Balm in Gilead and Hot l Baltimore. Surprisingly few people near me failed to return after intermission. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including intermission.

Fun Home ****

Since I first saw this musical adaptation of Alison Bechdel’s revered graphic novel in an early preview at the Public Theater in 2013, it has improved dramatically. Lisa Kron’s book now seems tighter and more coherent and Jeanine Tesori’s songs seem better integrated into the action. Sam Gold has skillfully reworked the staging to play to the audience on all four sides of Circle in the Square’s awkward rectangular stage. David Zinn’s wonderful set has been fitted out with multiple trapdoors that whisk furniture out of sight and back in a flash and his costumes are evocative. The Bechdel family lives in the funeral home that barely closeted father Bruce (the always compelling Michael Cerveris) has inherited. He is much more interested in restoring the home and entertaining handsome young men than in attending to his wife Helen (the wonderful Judy Kuhn). His daughter Alison comes out as a lesbian at college. Her hopes for a closer relationship with her father are thwarted. Alison is played by three fine actresses — Sydney Lucas as a child, Emily Skeggs as a college freshman, and Beth Malone as the 43-year-old cartoonist who is telling the story. Lucas has shot up a bit in two years, which puts a slightly different spin on her role. Skeggs is not quite as good as her predecessor Alexandra Socha, but good enough. Malone seemed more engaged this time out. She is still so thin that I feared for her health, but that’s my problem. Roberta Colindrez is fine as Joan, Alison’s first lover, and Joel Perez is good as several young men Bruce fancies. As at the Public, the audience was primed to enjoy the play no matter what. Fortunately their enthusiasm was deserved. Running time: one hour, 40 minutes; no intermission.

Placebo *

I very much enjoyed the Playwrights Horizons production of “This,” the first play I saw by Melissa James Gibson several years ago, but it’s been downhill since then. The second play I saw, “What Rhymes with America” at the Atlantic, left me cold. Now Gibson has returned to Playwrights Horizons with “Placebo,” which might be subtitled “Four Characters and a Vending Machine in Search of a Play.” Louise (Carrie Coon) is a graduate student in female sexuality, earning money by working with patients enrolled in a double-blind study of an experimental drug to increase female libido. Mary (Florencia Lozano) is one of the patients who is eager to know whether she is receiving the new drug or the placebo. Louise has lived for four years with Jonathan (William Jackson Harper), a 7th year graduate student in Classics who has hit a brick wall in his dissertation on Pliny the Elder. (The fact that Jonathan is played by a black actor seems to be of no significance to the plot, such as it is.) Louise tells her dying mother the white lie that she and Jonathan are getting married soon. Jonathan does not find Louise’s attempts to be supportive helpful. Tom (Alex Hurt), who works for another study at the hospital, becomes friendly with Louise. The game they play with a vending machine is the liveliest scene in the play. The experimental drug study and the placebo abruptly disappear from view and the action shifts to the troubled relationship between Louise and Jonathan. The play ends with a very long, often ludicrous scene of them breaking up — or not. I found the characters little more than collections of tics despite the efforts of an appealing cast to breathe some life into them. The play is not helped by David Zinn’s dreary and confusing set which uses the entire width of the theater to represent both the hospital and Jonathan’s apartment. I’m not sure what more director Daniel Aukin could have done with this material. Gibson seems to appeal to the younger generation; the audience included a group of twenty-somethings who whooped and hollered at every opportunity. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes, no intermission.

NOTE: Why the sudden spate of one-word play titles beginning with P— Pocatello, Posterity, Placebo, Permission?

The Real Thing **

Let me confess right off that I wasn’t that impressed by Stoppard’s romantic comedy when I saw the 2000 Tony-awarded revival with Stephen Dillane and Jennifer Ehle. However, that version was superior to the current revival at Roundabout’s American Airlines Theater. I only attended out of curiosity to see Ewan McGregor and Maggie Gyllenhaal in their Broadway debuts. McGregor is fine as Henry, the Stoppard surrogate who writes plays that have more wit than heart. Gyllenhaal is equally good as Annie, Henry’s mistress in act one and wife in act two. They should have more chemistry together though. Cynthia Nixon as Henry’s first wife Charlotte and Josh Hamilton as Annie’s first husband Max are less successful. Director Sam Gold does not seem to have a firm grip on the material; his decision to interpolate songs of the period sung by the cast between scenes misfires. He seems to like sets that are wide and shallow. The set by David Zinn is almost as unattractive as the one for “Look Back in Anger,” another Roundabout production directed by Gold. For an allegedly well-made play, I found the second act to be a bit scattershot and its echoes of the play’s opening scene rather clumsy. I grew increasingly restless as the second act dragged on. If you crave Stoppard, you'll do better with Roundabout's other revival, "Indian Ink." Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

Violet ****

What a pleasure it is to attend a musical where the music is the main attraction! This intimate musical theater piece originally produced at Playwrights Horizons in 1997 has finally made it to Broadway in a thrilling production that shows off the beautiful score by Jeanine Tesori to full advantage. Sutton Foster is amazing as a 25-year-old North Carolina farm woman whose face had been horribly scarred in a freak accident at the age of 13. (Her father’s axe flew off the handle while he was chopping wood.) The time is 1964, months after the Civil Rights Act became law. She is taking a bus to Tulsa, fully believing that her scar will be healed by a TV evangelist there. Along the way she meets two soldiers recently out of boot camp. Monty (Colin Donnell) is a charming skirt-chaser about to leave for Vietnam. Flick (Joshua Henry), as a black man, knows what it means to be an outsider. After Violet recruits them for a poker game at a rest stop, they both take a shine to her and the three decide to spend their overnight in Memphis together. Violet’s visit to Tulsa leads to a different kind of healing than she hoped for. Tesori’s score is a wonderful melange of country, blues and gospel that, in my humble opinion, outshines any other currently on Broadway. The lyrics and book by Brian Crawley are also fine, but I did have occasional trouble making out words. The excellent supporting cast includes Emerson Steele as the young Violet, Alexander Gemignani as her father, Ben Davis as the preacher, Annie Golden as both an old lady on the bus and a aged hotel hooker, and Rema Webb as the lead singer in the gospel choir. The onstage orchestra was excellent. Leigh Silverman’s direction skillfully blends past and present. David Zinn’s set and Clint Ramos’s costumes work well. I was afraid that such an intimate show would be lost in Roundabout’s American Airlines Theatre, but it is not. It was a thoroughly bracing evening. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes; no intermission.