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**The Beacon, Irish Repertory Theater, to 11/24/24: Kate Mulgrew pulls out all the histrionic stops in this muddled would-be mystery festooned with an improbable bisexual subplot. Sean Bell holds his own as the Mellors-style handyman.
*McNeal, Lincoln Center, to 11/24/24: Beyond Robert Downey Jr.'s noble profile, there's no indication in Ayad Akhtar's portrait of a supposed Nobel Prize-winning author that we're watching a genius at work. Alcoholism, familial dysfunction, check. Jacqueline Susann would have probed deeper.
****Yellow Face, Broadway, to 11/24/24: Playwright David Henry Hwang's gift for self-mockery shines anew in this sprightly revival of a 2007 hit. Daniel Dae Kim is a smoothie in the role of the wry author. Francis Jue heartbreaking as the character's father, an immigrant boosted then broken by the American dream.
**Walden, 2nd Stage, to 12/4/24: Playwright Amy Berryman posits a sororal tug-of-war set in the – oooh, ominous – "Not-So-Distant-Future." The dominant twin, Cassie – short for Cassiopeia (Zoë Winters) – is a NASA superwoman assigned to wrest from Mars's lifeless dust some form of human sustenance. The other twin, Stella (Emmy Rossum, delicately depressive), has dropped out of the space race to live off the grid with her bar-owner boyfriend, Bryan (Motell Foster), a confirmed "Earth Advocate." The performers are all fine, Whitney White's direction celeritous, but would it be too punny a put-down to note that the sci-fi premise itself lacks gravitas? The siblings could just as easily be at odds over some earthly set of divergent life choices. As if to compensate for the thin plot, the design team goes all in: set designer Matt Saunders with a cosy (if not airtight) quonset-hut-slash-bougie-bunker, light designer Adam Honoré with an apocalyptic light show when the desert air turns volatile. The nesting pair rush to shelter their newly planted flowers, which look fresh from a 9th Avenue deli and not especially nutritious. The climate crisis, being real, merits a less soap-operatic approach.
***The Roommate, Broadway, to 12/15/24: In Jen Silverman's updated gloss on The Odd Couple, Mia Farrow seems entirely at home dithering about onstage as a naïve Iowan divorcée; Patti LuPone proves formulaic as a Bronx hustler on the lam. And is there ever any doubt that the worm will eventually turn?
**The Light and the Dark, 59E59, to 12/15/24: In portraying the not exactly obscure sixteenth-century painter Artemesia Gentileschi, the justly esteemed playwright/performer Kate Hamill is ill served by an uneven, perhaps premature production directed by Jade King Carroll. This tranche of feminist history arrives sketchy and yet overlong. The script centers on the artist's apprenticeship under her father (a solid portrayal by Wynn Harmon), and her rape at the hands of a colleague (Matthew Saldívar, palpably sleazy). Oddly, but perhaps true to the age, Gentileschi continues consorting with her despoiler, pacified by a promise of marriage. The result: a trial (complete with a torturous Medieval-style truthfulness test) overseen by an alternately sympathetic and fulminating judge (Carlo Albán, over the top). Are we due for a rousing cri de coeur curtain speech? Assuredly. Whenever the histrionics threaten to overwhelm, you can always bask in the golden Florentine glow provided by lighting designer Seth Reiser. And throughout the proceedings, keep an eye on Joey Parsons – you'd have a hard time not to – as she excels in a quartet of roles, from scheming housekeeper to courtesan with a plan.
***The Hills of California, Broadway, to 12/22/24: Playwright Jez Butterworth revels in solo riffs by extraneous characters, but the throughline here is monopolized by a mid-ΚΌ50s stage mother (Laura Donnelly), an Audrey Meadows ringer with the drive of Maria von Trapp. Will Veronica's four girls triumph á la McAndrews Sisters a decade after the latter's prime? They had better. Damage predictably ensues. Donnelly lacks authenticity in her secondary role as the 1976 revenant, a road-worn groupie, but the other three sisters in adult guise – especially Ophelia Lovibond – are magnificent throughout.
**Hold On to Me Darling, Lucille Lortel Theatre, to 12/22/24: In this intimate revival of a less-than-stellar 2016 trial run at the Atlantic Theatre, Adam Driver does his best to make Kenneth Lonergan's one-note hero, megastar country singer/writer "Strings McCrane," less of a narcissistic bore. He even manages to wring some empathy and an occasional laugh over Strings's seeming inability to come up with a single lyric-worthy metaphor. Worth the 2 ½-hour slog: the chance to watch Heather Burns, playing an ur-groupie, segue from simp to snake.
***** Elf the Musical, Broadway, to 1/4/24: This sleigh may have been around the block a few times (a crack team adapted the 2003 film in 2010), but never has it shone so brightly. The glow is largely attributable to Grey Henson playing the clueless immigrant who abandons gemütlich Santaland for the chilly canyons of Manhattan. Henson appears completely immersed in the role, never permitting himself a knowing wink, and the result is joyous. Other standouts: As Elf's newfound stepmother, Ashley Brown registers emotionally as well as vocally, and she's well matched by Kai Edgar as Elf's preteen half-brother: an inspiration for any aspiring thespians in the audience, he shows not a scintilla of showbiz kid vanity while singing like a seasoned pro. N.B.: No need to have a child handy as an excuse to go – but any you invite along will emerge truly grateful.
**Another Shot, Signature Center, to 1/4/24: Rehab can be a rich source of drama, but this script, by Spike Man and Herry Teinowitz, fails to dig up much in the way of fresh insight, despite the best efforts of a fine cast – in particular, Portia as a seen-it-all therapist, Chiké Johnson as a repeat customer (presumably a model inmate), and Gregg Mozgala as a pharmacist too fond of his own inventory.
****Big Apple Circus, Lincoln Center, to 1/5/24: Do you prefer your circuses formal or messy? (Three guesses which way children skew.) With the 47-year-old institution under new management, the current embodiment (just gearing up as of the premiere) proved gaffe-packed – and delightful. The Zsilak Trio jugglers from Hungary, costumed as two Barbies and a Ken, fumbled no fewer than seven times – and kept going till they got it right. When hands failed to meet in the Flying Poemas' highwire finale, the no longer airborne aerialist clambered back up, redid the midair handoff, and had us gasping anew. Pedagogically speaking (ahem), this is a lesson worth absorbing: persistence as a path to mastery. You'll not miss the presence of a pompous ringmaster when you have three comics got up as sardonic New York pizza rats. Laughs and frissons guaranteed.
**Our Town, Broadway, to 1/9/25: In my decidedly minority view, the Thornton Wilder classic is a work of tremendous condescension: As evidenced in the graveside speech delivered brusquely by the Stage Manager (Jim Parsons), the author clearly considered himself among the "saints and poets" who grok the big picture. Kudos to Kenny Leon for trying to breathe life into this desiccated chestnut, and to Beowulf Boritt for the bleakly beautiful set. The cast is extremely uneven and not well served by Dede Ayite's time-hopping costumery or – worse – J. Jared Janas's wigs, which seem to have a life of their own. My advice: If you anticipate having to make small talk for eternity, grab a slab next to Mrs. Gibbs (Michelle Wilson, the beating heart of this production).
***The Big Gay Jamboree, The Orpheum, to 1/19/25: There's an irresistible "Hey, kids" energy to this Schmiggadoonish knockoff devised by Marla Mindelle and associates in the wake of her 2022 surprise off-Broadway hit Titanique (still going strong). The staging, singing, and choreography are all tight, and several of the participants – notably, Paris Nix playing a gospel-averse choir director – are eminently Broadway-ready, and SNL's Alex Moffat has a fun cameo playing the ultimate skeezy boyfriend/fiancé. For a good time, head here.
*Romeo + Juliet, Circle in the Square, to 2/16/24: In pandering shamelessly to a youthful, perhaps unschooled audience, the producers – presumably with director Sam Gold's permission — have opted to supplement the show's Playbill with a cheat sheet of cheerful headshots clarifying who's who among the warring clans. Not that it helps much, since most actors shoulder multiple roles — most effectively, Gabby Beans, who as part-time narrator manages to impart some gravitas and authenticity. Presumably, great chunks of text have been traded for gratuitous rumbles (tellingly, Drew Leary is credited for "Violence" rather than stage combat). The titular stars are unevenly matched. Rachel Zegler may be physically on the mark as a young teen Juliet, but she's out of her depth in terms of affect. (And no spoilers, but what was movement director Sonya Tayeh thinking in choreographing a showy backflip over Romeo's prone corpse as Juliet's swan song?) As Romeo, Kit Connor struggles valiantly – and in vain — to sustain a thread of genuine tragedy.
*Left on Tenth, Broadway, to 2/2/25: Perhaps Delia Ephron's celebrated parents – in-demand screenwriters and, as she notes, dedicated alcoholics – never got around to counseling her that nobody likes a braggart. The opening scenes of this second-chance-at-love script, adapted from Ephron's 2022 memoir, are just about unbearable. Juliana Margulies, playing the playwright as a gamine post-ingenue (think Laura Petrie in New Rochelle), whirls about her book-lined Greenwich Village apartment – primo sets by Beowulf Borritt – while recounting the mystical coincidences that led her to a replacement spouse (Peter Gallagher, game and charming as ever). Is stage-Delia heading for a big comeuppance? You bet: a terrible illness, presumably terminal. We should all have the resources, when stricken, to receive such attentive, cutting-edge care (Kate MacCluggage and Peter Francis James nicely handle multiple roles) in a hospital suite as big as the Ritz.
*Drag, the Musical, New World Stages, to 3/30/25: It's not the cleverest drag-themed musical to hit town: in fact, the one-word title is rather apt. Two exceptions: the delectable Frank-N-Furter froideur of Alaska Thunderfuck [sic] as a scheming club owner, -- smartly costumed by Marco Marco -- and young Remi Tuckman alternating in the role of a drag-curious ten-year-old. The subplot is a bit unsettling, until you hear the kid sing "It's So Pretty" (the other dull/derivative book/music/lyrics are by Tomas Costanza, Justin Andrew Honard, and Ashley Grodonh). Playing Brendan's father, unimpressively, is former New Kid on the Block star Joey McIntyre, who seems to have lost his vocal chops somewhere on the circuit. He appears out of his depth in this endeavor, shallow as it is. He is not alone, despite the cast's vigorous attempts to seduce, delight, and at a minimum entertain.
**A Wonderful World, to 5/4/25: James Monroe Iglehart deserves combat pay for sustaining Louis Armstrong's signature low tremolo, but even he can't salvage Aurin Squire's scrapbook script, organized around Armstrong's four marriages (two of them apparently overlapping). Only Darlesia Cearcy as Louisa, spouse number four (a keeper, she stuck it out for three decades), gets a chance to show off her formidable pipes. Another wakeup moment: When Jason Forbach appears as Lincoln Perry (stage name: Stepin Fetchit), a slick strategist behind the scenes. This overstuffed hagiography elides so much interesting potential material, you'd be better off reading up and listening along on your own.
****Sunset Blvd., to7/6/25: See my review at https://newyorknotebook.substack.com/p/sunset-blvd