Tootsie

B+

The tag line in the ads for the Broadway adaptation of this 1982 film is “The Comedy Musical.” The inversion of the usual term is apt, because this is one of the few musicals more likely to be remembered for its savvy book by Robert Horn (13 The Musical, “Designing Women”) than for its competent, but not stellar, score by David Yazbek (The Band’s Visit, The Full Monty). It’s not that the score is bad — Yazbek displays his usual facility for matching song to character and his lyrics are often clever — but there are no songs that jump out as something you are likely to want to hear again very soon. The book, on the other hand, very cleverly updates the basic story to the age of #MeToo, successfully changes the setting from the world of soap operas to the Broadway stage, and regularly provides a barrel of laughs. The strong book is matched by a superb cast and first-rate production values. Santino Fontana (Cinderella, Sons of the Prophet) deftly negotiates the dual role of Michael Dorsey/Dorothy Michaels, singing well in both ranges. Lilli Cooper (SpongeBob SquarePants, Spring Awakening) is lovely as Julie Nichols, Dorothy’s co-star and Michael’s love interest. Sarah Stiles (Hand to God, On a Clear Day…) pulls out all the stops as Michael’s neurotic former girlfriend Sandy Lester and Andy Grotelueschen (Cyrano de Bergerac, Into the Woods) is droll as Michael’s roommate Jeff Slater. John Behlmann (Significant Other, Journey’s End) is a riot as the buff but dim Max Van Horn who takes a shine to Dorothy. The always enjoyable Julie Halston (On the Town, Hairspray) scores as the wealthy producer Rita Marshall, who promotes Dorothy’s rise. Michael McGrath (The Front Page, She Loves Me) makes the most of the small but important role of Stan Fields, Michael’s agent. Reg Rogers (The Royal Family, Holiday) is wonderful as Ron Carlisle, the director who has blackballed Michael but is forced to work with Dorothy. The choreography by Denis Jones (Holiday Inn, Honeymoon in Vegas) is lively with a memorable faux-Fosse number that we gratefully get to see a second time during the curtain call. David Rockwell’s (Kiss Me Kate!, She Loves Me) attractive, flexible sets are beautifully lit by Donald Holder (The Lion King) and William Ivey Long’s (Prince of Broadway, It Shoulda Been You) costumes are marvelous. Scott Ellis (She Loves Me, On the 20th Century) directs with aplomb. The implausible progression from the awful show “Juliet’s Curse” to the hit “Juliet’s Nurse” is fun to watch. There is so much to admire that one regrets that the score is not up to the high level of everything else. Nevertheless, it offers a very entertaining evening with far more laughs than you can expect from today’s typical musical. Running time: two hours 35 minutes including intermission.

The Babylon Line ** C-

Making fun of the conformity of life in Levittown 50 years ago is a bit like shooting fish in a barrel. The target is too easy. Nevertheless, Richard Greenberg’s look at a creative writing class in the local adult education program, now in previews at Lincoln Center Theater, initially shows promise. The presence of such stalwarts of the New York stage as Randy Graff, Julie Halston and Frank Wood as three of the students is a big help. Josh Radnor (Disgraced) is no slouch either as their teacher, an unsuccessful writer who makes the weekly trip from Manhattan to earn a few dollars. Ms. Graff plays a stereotypical overbearing yenta, who would be objectionable if she weren’t so amusing. Ms. Halston, as one of her friends, is more open-minded. Maddie Corman portrays another friend, who has a rocky marriage. Frank Wood plays a veteran suffering from what we now call PTSD, who seeks release in his writing. Michael Oberholtzer plays a strange young man, possibly on the spectrum, who is working on a magnum opus. The final student is a mysterious woman who has lived in Levittown for many years, but is unknown to the others. This character, portrayed by Elizabeth Reaser, whom I have admired on other occasions, has for some reason been saddled with a Southern accent that comes and goes. (Perhaps there was a course on Tennessee Williams next door and she wandered into the wrong classroom.) The first act proceeds smoothly, but after intermission things go seriously off the rails. The second act is overlong and overwrought, burdened with lame gimmicks and false endings. Richard Hoover’s classroom set is excellent. I can't vouch for the accuracy of  Sarah J. Holden’s period costumes, but they seem appropriate. Director Terry Kinney gets tripped up in the second act problems. There are several entertaining moments along the way, but by the end most of the goodwill I felt after Act One had vanished. At least it’s an improvement over Greenberg's last play, “Our Mother’s Brief Affair,” which he briefly references. Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes including intermission

The Tribute Artist ***

If you are not a fan of Charles Busch's brand of female impersonation or of the kind of silliness that is often based on vulgarity, you can skip this play and the rest of this review. If, on the other hand, you enjoy high camp, you'll want to get to 59E59 for his newest play's Primary Stages premiere. To call the plot "convoluted" would be to oversimplify it; "preposterous" is a closer fit. The characters are Adriana (Cynthia Harris), a dying dowager with a townhouse in Greenwich Village; Jimmy (Busch), a drag queen --- oops, forgive me, celebrity tribute artist -- who stays with Adriana when he is in town; Rita (Busch stalwart Julie Halston), their lesbian friend who is an unsuccessful real estate broker; Christina (Mary Bacon), Adriana's feckless estranged niece; Oliver (Keira Keeley), Christina's teenage son who until recently was Rachel; and Rodney (Jonathan Walker), Adriana's shady long-lost lover. The madness does not reach the inspired level of Busch's "The Divine Sister" and it drags in spots [pun intended] but there are lots of funny lines along the way. Anita Louizos's townhouse living room set is sumptuous, Gregory Gale's costumes are droll, and Katherine Carr's wigs are perfect. Carl Andress, Busch's long-time director, does the honors again here. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes including intermission.