On Your Feet ** C+

If exuberance were all it took to make a Broadway musical a winner, this jukebox bio-musical about Gloria and Emilio Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine would make the grade. The infectious music of this Cuban-American couple is played by a terrific orchestra that is onstage for the big numbers. The two leads, Ana Villafañe and Ektor Rivera, are both excellent and are supported by a fine cast that includes Andrea Burns, Alma Cuervo and a young tap-dancing terror named Eduardo Hernandez. The dance numbers, choreographed by Sergio Trujillo, are relentlessly energetic. David Rockwell’s hyperactive set features two tall panels made of shutters that move around a lot. The costumes by Esosa are a treat. Jerry Mitchell’s direction is slick. Unfortunately, all the show’s strengths are largely undone by a lame book by Alexander Dinelaris. Its weaknesses are less apparent during the lively first act, but become increasingly problematic during the weak second act. The abrupt and rather flat finale morphs into an unusually lively extended curtain call. Go for the music and the dancing and try to ignore the book. It has been running for over a year, so clearly it has found an audience. Running time: 2 hours 25 minutes including intermission.

Falsettos ** C+

When Lincoln Center Theater announced that it was reviving William Finn’s Tony-awarded musical (best book and best score), I wasn’t sure I wanted to see it again. After seeing its two halves off-Broadway when they were presented as “March of the Falsettos” in 1981 and “Falsettoland” in 1990, as well as the Broadway version of 1992, I thought perhaps it would be better to keep my fond memories and skip it this time around. Michael Rupert, Stephen Bogardus and Chip Zien were so ingrained in my memory as Marvin, Whizzer and Mendel that I could not imagine anyone else in these roles. When Christian Borle and Andrew Rannells were announced as Marvin and Whizzer, I was even more uncertain. While Borle is extremely talented, he is not my vision of a gay neurotic Jewish New Yorker; nor is Rannells my idea of a hunk. I was disappointed that James Lapine was once again directing, because I thought a new director might give it an interesting new spin. Curiosity got the better of me and I bought a ticket. As the play opens, Marvin has divorced his wife Trina and moved in with his lover Whizzer. Marvin and Trina’s young son Jason (an excellent Anthony Rosenthal) is acting out. Marvin’s shrink Mendel takes a fancy to Trina. As luck would have it, both Stephanie J. Block and Brandon Uranowitz were out the night I attended so I saw their understudies Courtney Balan and Tally Sessions as Trina and Mendel; fortunately they were both very good. After intermission we meet the lesbians who live next door, Dr. Charlotte (Tracie Thoms) and Cordelia (Betsy Wolfe). During the first act, I was fighting the disparity between the concept of the two male leads in my head and the versions embodied by Borle and Rannells. They eventually won me over. After intermission, the book becomes more involving and even the songs get better. While the plot may be manipulative, I defy anyone to keep a dry eye at the end. Jennifer Caprio’s costumes are fine. David Rockwell’s set is a puzzler. While I liked the Manhattan skyline backdrop that had several permutations, I thought that the large grey cube that dominated the set and was disassembled as needed to form various props looked cheap. For those who haven’t seen the show before, I would definitely recommend it as a time capsule of New York life in 1979 and 1981. Running time: 2 hours 45 minutes including intermission.

She Loves Me ****

How lucky we are to have first-rate revivals of not one but two Bock and Harnick masterpieces on Broadway this season — 1964’s Fiddler on the Roof  and 1963’s She Loves Me. The two shows are so different that it’s hard to believe that they were working on both at the same time. One thing they have in common is that they are both set in vanishing worlds. Whereas Fiddler presents a momentous story embellished with all the accoutrements of a 60’s Broadway musical, She Loves Me tells a romantic tale on an intimate scale with little razzle dazzle. The skillful book by Joe Masteroff is based on Parfumerie, the play by Milosz Laszlo that inspired three films (The Shop around the Corner, In the Good Old Summertime and You’ve Got Mail). We meet the staff of a Budapest parfumerie in the early 1930’s: owner Mr. Maraczek (Byron Jennings), assistant manager Georg Nowack (Zachary Levi), longtime sales clerk Ladislav Sipos (Michael McGrath), caddish clerk Steven Kodaly (Gavin Creel), pliant cashier Ilona Ritter (Jane Krakowski) and ambitious delivery boy Arpad Laszlo (Nicholas Barasch). The new sales clerk Amalia Balash (Laura Benanti) and Georg immediately get off on the wrong foot. Neither knows that they have been anonymously corresponding with the other for months after answering a lonely hearts ad. In their sometimes affair, Kodaly repeatedly takes advantage of Ilona. Mr. Maraczek suddenly begins to mistreat Georg after misinterpreting an anonymous letter he received. Fear not! All will be happily resolved. One of this well-crafted show's many accomplishments is that each character gets at least one song that both describes the character and advances the plot. The excellent cast does full justice to the wonderful music and lyrics. Benanti’s glorious voice and comic chops are perfection and Krakowski adds dimensions to her role that I didn’t know were there. Levi makes a fine foil for Benanti. Only Creel seemed slightly out of his element. Peter Bartlett is the swishy but ultimately sympathetic headwaiter at the Café Imperiale and Michael Fatica is amusing as the clumsy busboy. Warren Carlyle’s choreography for the scenes at Maraczek’s played very well, but I thought his work in the café scene was too broad and did not fit in with the rest of the show. David Rockwell’s jewel box of a set is a joy to see. Jeff Mahshie’s period costumes are attention grabbers — think pink, fuschia and purple. Paul Gemignani conducts the score with panache. Director Scott Ellis, whose 1993 revival, also for Roundabout, was excellent, does even better this time out. I cannot imagine anyone not enjoying this wonderful production. Running time: two hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Sylvia ***

Twenty years after its debut at Manhattan Theatre Club, A.R. Gurney’s charming but inconsequential play has finally made it to Broadway. It presents the playwright in a much more favorable light than any of the three Gurney plays that Signature recently mounted. Annaleigh Ashford’s performance as the eponymous canine is sheer delight, reason enough to see the show. As Greg, the man with a midlife crisis who is instantly smitten with Sylvia when she plops into his lap in Central Park, Matthew Broderick is the best he has been since “The Producers.” The ever-watchable Julie White strikes all the right notes as Greg’s wife Kate, who does not want a dog to upset their newly-empty nest or her budding career as a teacher bringing Shakespeare to uptown middle school students. Robert Sella is a triple threat as Tom, another dog owner in Central Park; Phyllis, Kate’s friend from Vassar days whose struggle to stay on the wagon is threatened by Sylvia’s enthusiastic attentiveness; and Leslie, the androgynous couple counselor Kate and Greg visit. As Sylvia becomes more entrenched and gets more attention from Greg than his wife does, a showdown looms. I’m sure you can guess the outcome. The play’s conceit is really too slender for a work that runs over two hours, but director Daniel Sullivan does an excellent job of hiding that. The triple casting of Sella is droll, but seems cut from a different cloth than the rest of the play. David Rockwell’s set offer a lovely scene of Central Park with the essentials of a park-view apartment that materialize when needed. Ann Roth’s costumes are excellent; the ones for Sylvia are truly inspired. You may forget the play five minutes after it ends, but you will likely enjoy it while you're watching it. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes including intermission. 

On the Twentieth Century ****

Roundabout Theatre is presenting the first Broadway revival of this 1978 show with music by Cy Coleman and book and lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green. Based on the 1932 play by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, this screwball comedy with music takes us back to the glory days of rail travel. The lavish art deco set by David Rockwell and glamorous costumes by William Ivey Long establish the perfect mood, which is enhanced by the stylized movement of Warren Carlyle’s choreography and the assured direction of Scott Ellis.  The lead characters are Oscar Jaffee (the adequate Peter Gallagher), a down-but-not-out producer, and Lily Garland (the incomparable Kristin Chenoweth), his former lover and muse who has left him and the theater for Hollywood stardom. Jaffee hopes to use the 16-hour train trip from Chicago to New York to sign Garland for a new show to revive his career. Mark Linn-Baker and Michael McGrath are amusing as Jaffee’s loyal aides. Mary Louise Wilson is a hoot as Letitia Peabody Primrose, a dotty, wealthy woman with a checkbook who might bankroll Jaffee. As Lily’s more brawny than brainy boy toy Bruce Granit, Andy Karl almost steals the show. The four porters who tap their way through the show are delightful. It’s all so stylish and entertaining that you might wonder why it took over 35 years to revive the show. One reason is the extreme vocal demands of the operetta-tinged score which require someone of Chenoweth’s rare talents. It’s good to have her back on Broadway. Another possible explanation is that the music, which works well within the framework of the show, lacks any songs that you are likely to leave the theater humming. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Side Show ***

I didn’t see this cult musical during its brief Broadway run in 1997, so I can’t comment on whether this new version is an improvement over the original. The score by Henry Krieger (music) and Bill Russell (lyrics) has replaced some old songs with new ones and Russell’s book has had substantial new material added by director Bill Condon. The subject may be unconventional — the story of the show biz career of the conjoined Hilton twins — the extroverted Daisy (Emily Padgett) and the reclusive Violet (Erin Davie) — but the book seemed quite conventional. The early scenes in the side show are unnervingly graphic in their depiction of the freaks. The flashback to the twins’ early life in England seemed unnecessary. Robert Joy is chilling as Sir, the show’s proprietor who thinks he owns the twins. David St. Louis is a vocal powerhouse as Jake (a/k/a King of the Cannibals), employed by Sir to keep an eye on the twins. Ryan Silverman is Terry Connor, the talent scout who wants to make vaudeville stars out of the twins. Matthew Hydzik is Terry’s pal Buddy Foster, the song and dance man tasked with readying them for the stage. Violet has feelings for Buddy, Jake has feelings for Violet and Ryan has hidden (too well hidden) feelings for Daisy. The arrival of Hollywood filmmaker Tod Browning carries a promise of success that is never realized. Padgett and Davie are quite strong both vocally and dramatically. Krieger’s fine music is often dragged down by Russell’s leaden lyrics. David Rockwell’s scenic design and Paul Tazewell’s costumes are excellent. While the show seemed a bit lumpy, it nevertheless managed to deeply engage my feelings for its characters. Running time: two hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Kinky Boots ****

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
The industrial decline of Britain has been a promising topic for movies that were then turned into musicals. In 1997 we got "The Full Monty," in 2000 along came "Billy Elliot." In 2005 a lesser known film, "Kinky Boots," developed mainly as a vehicle for the talented Chiwetel Ejiofor, arrived on the screen. Despite a mixed reception from American critics, it became a cult film in some circles. Now, with music and lyrics by Cyndi Lauper, a book by Harvey Fierstein and direction and choreography by Jerry Mitchell, "Kinky Boots" has arrived on Broadway. The reputation of its creators and the buzz from the sold-out Chicago run have raised expectations very high, perhaps too high. Although I enjoyed the show thoroughly, I will confess that it did not quite live up to all the hype. The fine cast is led by Stark Sands as Charlie Price, the young man who is suddenly burdened with responsibility for the family's moribund shoe factory, and Billy Porter as Lola (a/k/a Simon), the black drag queen who inspires him to replace the factory's men's dress shoe line with a niche product -- glamorous boots for transvestites. There are problems along the way with Charlie's unsupportive fiancee, homophobic employees, financial difficulties and the self-doubt that Charlie and Lola share. In addition to a strong cast that includes The Angels, Lola's six back-up drag performers, there is a terrific factory set by David Rockwell and marvelous costumes by Gregg Barnes. The book is witty, but the score is merely serviceable and the lyrics rarely rise above the banal. There is one touching number "I'm Not My Father's Son," during which Charlie and Lola/Simon bond. The choreography of the first act finale is wonderfully inventive, with clever use of conveyer belts  and other factory equipment. The show's closing number is also a winner, with everyone donning the kinky boots for a blowout finale. Although not everything was as fantastic as I had hoped, these two numbers went a long way to winning me over. I left with a big smile. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

Harvey **

(To see the complete review, please click on the title.)
I should have learned by now that I rarely respond well to theatrical whimsy. Only my curiosity to see Jim Parsons onstage in a leading role led me to buy a ticket for the Roundabout Theatre's revival of Mary Chase's 1944 comedy. Parsons acquits himself well enough as Elwood P. Dowd, but the role isn't much of a stretch from Dr. Sheldon Cooper, his TV persona. The play itself may be of sociological interest as a relic of a more innocent age, but it is about as frothy as stale beer. Most of the writing is leaden and obvious. For a few moments late in the first act, it rises to the level of farce, but it fails to offer much in the way of humor, charm or wisdom. (It is simply inconceivable that it won the Pulitzer over "The Glass Menagerie' in 1944. I can only assume that it offered a welcome respite from the anxiety of wartime.) To make matters worse, some of the casting is unfortunate. Jessica Hecht, whom I usually admire, is terribly miscast as Veta. I don't know whether anyone could humanize the stereotypical role of her daughter Myrtle Mae, but Tracie Chimo is not the one. Charles Kimbrough and Larry Bryggman, two old pros, are convincing in their roles; Morgan Spector and Rich Sommer are adequate in theirs. Carol Kane is fine in her usual role of a a ditz. David Rockwell's evocative set of the library a fusty mansion neatly splits in thirds and rotates to become the reception room of Chumley's Rest. Jane Greenwood's costumes vividly recreate the look of the '40s. Scott Ellis's direction lacks effervescence. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes including intermission.