Love and Information ***

Caryl Churchill is acclaimed by many as Britain's foremost living playwright; she is certainly one of its most prolific and unpredictable. Her 40+ works range from the sublime (Cloud 9) to the ridiculous (Drunk Enough To Say I Love You?). Since she never repeats herself, each play is in some sense experimental. Her latest work to arrive in New York, courtesy of New York Theatre Workshop, is a set of over 50 sketches, mostly for two actors, ranging in length from a few seconds to a few minutes. They are loosely connected by the theme of information -- the overwhelming amount of it, the ways we remember it, forget it, communicate it or withhold it. The sketches are grouped into seven sections plus an epilogue, but the unifying theme of each section is far from clear; nor is the rationale for the sequence of sections. I did not feel any sense of the beginning, middle or end that I would expect a play to have. The blackouts between sketches are accompanied by an aggressive sound design by Christopher Shutt with loud noises that act as an aural palate cleanser. What made the evening intriguing is that Churchill has a rare ability to create vividly specific characters and situations in just a few moments; what made it entertaining is that many of the sketches are extremely funny. The cast of 16 is excellent, the costumes by Gabriel Berry and Andrea Hood are a delight, Miriam Buether's set design is effective and James Macdonald's direction is superb. Although the evening was entertaining, I felt the work lacked coherence and depth and would benefit from 15 minutes of cuts. Running time: 1 hour 50 minutes; no intermission.

Middle of the Night **

It has been 60 years since Paddy Chayefsky's tale of a romance between a 56-year-old Jewish garment manufacturer and his pretty 24-year-old Gentile receptionist first appeared as a television drama starring E.G. Marshall and Eva Marie Saint. Two years later came the Broadway version with Edward G. Robinson and Gena Rowlands. 1959 brought the film with Frederic March and Kim Novak. Now the Keen Company's artistic director, Jonathan Silverstein, has revived the play. I was curious to see how well it has withstood the ravages of time and how well the current leads measure up to their illustrious predecessors. My answer to both questions is "not very well." In the age of Viagra, it is hard to relate to the idea that a man's life is as good as over at 56. The play's impact is also undercut by a shoestring production with three actors playing dual roles and a set (by Steven C. Kemp) that is forced to represent both the apartment of an affluent manufacturer and that of a lower middle class family. Since class difference is almost as important an issue as age difference, this double use of the set undercuts the heart of the play. Jonathan Hadary is respectable as the manufacturer, but Nicole Lowrence plays the girl as so needy that she was painful to watch. I'm not sure whether the problem is the actress or Silverstein's direction. I have seen enough of his work by now to conclude that he is better at selecting plays than at directing them. The level of the other actors varied widely. Chayefsky's writing also veers wildly between the theatrically adept and the clunky. His basic sympathy for his characters is admirable though. This material seemed to work better on television and film than on the stage. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes, including intermission.

Stop Hitting Yourself **

To misquote Mae West, "too much of a gold thing can be wonderful." That could well describe the sight that greets you when you enter the Claire Tow Theater: 17 gold chandeliers of various shapes and sizes, a gold baby grand piano, oversized gold statues, gold palm trees and a fountain that spouts queso, a golden melted cheese. And let's not forget the gigantic dollar sign with flashing lights. How could we not be in for an evening of madcap frivolity with a dash of surrealism? Alas, 90 long minutes later you'll know how. A wisp of a plot -- something about a contest to win a good deed from the queen at her charity ball -- tries to knit together this intermittently entertaining melange of speechifying about selfishness, the environment and the nature of art, audience participation games, tap dancing, songs and a grand finale in which the actors attack each other with queso. I have a hunch that the members of the Austin-based theater collaborative Rude Mechs had considerably more fun putting the show together than the audience did watching it. I admire LCT3 for taking a risk on something so different, but in this case, the result was disappointing. Getting to see Mimi Lien's over-the-top set and Emily Rebholz's costumes was almost worth the $20 ticket price. By the way, I have absolutely no idea where the title came from.

The Bridges of Madison County ***

If you found the novel by Robert James Walker or the movie with Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep too treacly, you were probably planning to take a pass on the musical version, now in previews, with music and lyrics by Jason Robert Brown and a book by Marsha Norman. That would be a shame, because you would miss seeing two of our finest musical theater talents, Kelli O'Hara as Francesca and Stephen Pasquale as Robert, both in top form; their chemistry together is absolutely sizzling (which you might not have expected after their previous outing, "Far from Heaven"). Add a beautiful score by Brown, an excellent set by Michael Yeargan, attractively appropriate costumes by Catherine Zuber, evocative lighting by Donald Holder and sensitive direction by Bartlett Sher, and you end up with a lot to admire. Norman's book has its ups and downs. She has opened the story up with more time given to Francesca's family and neighbors and Robert's former wife. The addition of the neighbor couple, Marge and Charlie, works out fine because they are played by two fine actors, Cass Morgan and Michael X. Martin. I would have preferred omitting Francesca's sister and Robert's ex, especially since the show could use some trimming. For me, its flaws were far outweighed by its strengths. I would overlook a lot to catch O'Hara and Pasquale together onstage. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes, including intermission.

Intimacy **

The previous play I saw by Thomas Bradshaw -- "Burning" in 2011 -- made my Ten Worst list for that year, so I was not looking forward to Bradshaw's new X-rated comedy at The New Group. This muddled satire about sex in suburbia has lots of nudity and simulated sex but not much point. In the first act we are presented with the sexual proclivities of three neighboring families who get together in the second act to produce a neighborhood porn film. The graphic sex is more comical than erotic. The characters are a jumble of unconvincing traits and the plot, such as it is, makes very little sense. Bradshaw's desire to shock often serves no apparent purpose; he throws in a toilet scene with sound effects and a vomit scene to up the gross-out factor. A subplot about casual racism seems almost an afterthought. To see such fine actors as Daniel Gerroll, Laura Esterman and Keith Randolph Smith involved in this evoked a mixture of admiration and pity. David Anzuelo, Austin Cauldwell, Ella Dershowitz and Dea Julien all look good with their clothes off. Derek McLane's set with a candy color backdrop and quilted walls makes good use of the extremely wide stage. Director Scott Elliott also designed the costumes. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including intermission.

Outside Mullingar ***

If you are willing to turn off your critical faculties and yield to the skillful manipulations of a master, you can have a good time at John Patrick Shanley's new play at Manhattan Theatre Club. Not for nothing has it been called the Irish "Moonstruck." It too is a rather slight but enjoyable rom-com with a prickly couple at the center. Fortunately Anthony and Rosemary are played by Shanley veteran Brian F. O'Byrne and, in her Broadway debut, Debra Messing, who play well off each other and are joined by two wonderful actors, Peter Maloney and Dearbhla Molloy as Anthony's father and Rosemary's mother. The wisp of a plot involves a spiteful real estate transaction 30 years prior, the alienation between father and son, the loneliness of Irish farm life and a long-smoldering unrequited love. There are some fine set pieces that allow each actor to shine, but for me, a ludicrous revelation in the final scene undid some of the good will the play had earned. John Lee Beatty's set design is topnotch and Catherine Zuber's costumes are fine. Doug Hughes's direction is assured. Running time: 80 minutes, no intermission.

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner **

In this stage adaptation of Alan Sillitoe's 1959 story about class in England, now at Atlantic Stage 2, playwright Roy Williams has moved the action to the present and changed the race of the protagonist to black to add an additional level of conflict. This transposition might have worked better if it had been more fully developed. Sheldon Best plays the title character Colin with more stamina than clarity of motivation. The flashbacks that punctuate the play, showing him in short scenes with his parents, best friend, girl and fellow residents of the juvenile facility seemed scatter-shot and did not have cumulative impact. There are several scenes between Colin and Stevens, the social worker who urges him to run in a race against a local private school. Granted that Stevens is supposed to be smarmy, in his portrayal by Todd Weeks he comes across as little more than a buffoon given to bombastic declamation. A general lack of nuance hurts the production. In the strong supporting cast, Zainab Jah, Joshua E. Nelson and Jasmine Cephas Jones stood out. The spare set by Lauren Helpern and projections by Pauline Lu and Paul Piekarz are effective, as are the costumes by Bobby Frederick Tilley II. Leah C. Gardiner directed.  I really wanted to like the play, but even at 80 minutes felt it dragged.