The Price

B+

While Arthur Miller’s 1968 play is not generally considered among his best, this is its fourth Broadway revival and the second by Roundabout Theatre. Clearly, it has its advocates. It stands out from most of Miller’s plays in that there is quite a bit of humor, at least in the first act, and it is told in real time on a single set. It has four juicy roles that, in this case, are filled by a starry cast. Mark Ruffalo plays Victor Franz, a NYC cop nearing 50, who is in the attic of the townhouse where he grew up, waiting for a furniture dealer to arrive to make an offer on all the old-fashioned heavy furniture stored there. He is joined by his wife Esther (Jessica Hecht), who has never fully accepted the limited expectations her marriage has brought. The furniture dealer who eventually arrives is Gregory Solomon (Danny DeVito), an 89-year-old man, who provides both comic relief and wisdom. We learn that Victor has been estranged from his elder brother Walter (Tony Shalhoub) since their father’s death 16 years ago. The Depression left their father a hollowed-out man after he lost all his money, his wife died, and the family was forced to move into the attic of their townhouse. While Walter stayed in medical school and became a wealthy surgeon, Victor dropped out of college to care for his father, gave up his dream of being a scientist, lived with his father in dire poverty until joining the police force. Victor has attempted to contact Walter to notify him about selling the family furniture, but Walter has not returned his calls. After lots of back and forth, Victor and Solomon reach a deal. Solomon is in the midst of paying Victor in $100 bills when Walter suddenly arrives, ending Act One. Most of the overlong second act is the confrontation between Victor and Walter, during which old grievances are aired and new realizations are formed. Tony Shalhoub, resplendent in his camel hair coat and shiny suit, is superb as the smooth-talking Walter, perhaps the most complex character. The role of Esther fits Jessica Hecht like a glove and she gives one of her best performances in years. Casting Danny DeVito as Solomon was a stroke of genius. It is hard to believe that this is his Broadway debut. Though tiny in stature, he is a commanding presence. Mark Ruffalo, an actor I greatly admire, does not seem entirely comfortable in the role of Victor, although his performance improves as the play progresses. Derek McClane’s wonderfully cluttered set has dozens of pieces of furniture hanging from the ceiling, but has no walls so we see a city skyline of water towers against a cloudy sky. Sarah J. Holden’s costumes are perfection. Unlike Ivo van Hove’s recent versions of A View from the Bridge and The Crucible, director Terry Kinney has taken the play at face value, rather than attempting to force his stamp upon it. Miller doesn’t need gimmicks. Running time: two hours, 40 minutes including intermission.

If I Forget

B

If the goal of Steven Levenson (The Unavoidable Disappearance of Tom Durnin, book for Dear Evan Hansen) was to write a play that would elicit lively discussion afterwards, his new play at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre is a success. While at its core an intimate family drama, the play connects the personal to a wider arena of religious, political, sociological and philosophical concerns. We meet the three Fischer siblings, all in their forties, in July 2000 at the family’s longtime home in a middle class Washington neighborhood. They are gathered to celebrate their recently widowed father’s 75th birthday. The middle child Michael (the superb Jeremy Shamos), although an atheist, is a professor of Jewish studies at a New York area university where he has just been recommended for tenure. He mentions in passing that he is faculty advisor to Students for Nader. He and his gentile wife Ellen (Tasha Lawrence) have an emotionally troubled college-age daughter Abby who is currently on a trip to Israel. Michael was opposed to letting her go because peace talks between Arabs and Israelis have just collapsed and he fears for her safety. Elder daughter Holly (the assured Kate Walsh from TV’s Private Practice), a dilettante who fancies herself an interior decorator, has a bratty teenage son Joey (Seth Steinberg) and a shallow but wealthy lawyer husband Howard (Gary Wilmes) who is Joey’s stepfather. The younger daughter Sharon (Renata Friedman, u/s for Maria Dizzia), an unmarried teacher, who has borne the brunt of caring for her late mother and her ailing father, never fails to remind her siblings of that fact. Sharon has recently broken up with her boyfriend after finding him in bed with the [female] cantor. We learn that Michael has just completed an incendiary book called Forget the Holocaust that suggests that American Jews should stop using the Holocaust as a reason to give Israel a free pass for some of its actions. (If you think it unlikely that a professor would publish a controversial book likely to damage his career while he is awaiting tenure, just google Norman Finkelstein.) Although Michael sent his father Lou (Larry Bryggman) a manuscript of his book to read six month ago, Lou has never said a word about it. In a moving scene near the end of the first act, Lou describes what it was like to liberate Dachau. The second act takes place six months later, not long after the Supreme Court has interceded to elect Bush. Lou has suffered a stroke. Michael’s book has had consequences. The family has gathered to decide what to do about Lou’s care. Lou’s only asset is his former clothing store, now leased to a Guatemalan family at a below-market rate. Sharon’s opposition to selling the store because it is the family legacy has another less noble motive. Holly’s plan to rent the store for her own nonexistent design practice is mysteriously not supported by her husband, who turns out to have an unsavory secret. Michael pushes hard to sell the store, betraying some confidences in the process. At play’s end Joey asks Michael about his cousin Abby’s condition. We learn that she had an experience in Jerusalem that was either transcendent or symptomatic of her worsening mental condition. The play shifts gears from naturalistic to expressionistic in its final scene, which didn't work for me. One can fault the play for being overstuffed; there’s enough plot for three plays. On the positive side, the play presents a compelling picture of family dynamics, fortunately relieved by frequent flashes of humor. It raises important questions about Jewish identity in America today that seem even more relevant in the light of recent headlines. The dialogue is sharp and the cast is excellent. Derek McLane’s revolving two-level set and Jess Goldstein’s costumes serve the play well. Daniel Sullivan (Proof, Rabbit Hole) directs with his usual skill. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including intermission.

Holiday Inn, The New Irving Berlin Musical *** B

While it’s hardly new, this adaptation of the 1942 film that starred Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire is a welcome addition to the Broadway season. If you are stressed out by the state of the nation, get yourself to Studio 54 where you can return to a simpler, gentler America, at least for 2+ hours. Gordon Greenberg (who also directed) and Chad Hodge have tossed out a few songs (including the blackface number), added several other Berlin standbys, and reworked the plot to make it slightly less ridiculous. For those old enough to remember, it wasn’t the plots that drew us to Hollywood musicals. As Jim Hardy, Bryce Pinkham (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder) lacks Bing Crosby’s pipes, but is otherwise fine. As Ted Hanover, Corbin Bleu is an amazing dancer and a charming presence. Megan Sikora is a hoot as Lila Dixon, their dance partner with more ambition than loyalty. As Linda Mason, Lora Lee Gayer looks and acts the part of the local schoolteacher with hidden talents. Comic relief is added by two new characters — Louise (Megan Lawrence), the politically incorrect lesbian live-in “fix-it man” and Charlie Winslow (Morgan Gao), a local child who usually bears ill tidings. The production is quite lavish. The scenic design by Anna Louizos features multiple sets. The 40’s costumes by Alejo Vietti are sensational. The lively choreography by Denis Jones (Honeymoon in Vegas) is well executed by a chorus of 16. Two numbers are showstoppers — “Shaking the Blues Away” and “Let’s Say It with Firecrackers.” The large orchestra and attractive arrangements give Berlin his due. And hearing “White Christmas” twice more won’t kill you. This Roundabout production may be the musical equivalent of comfort food, but a little comfort is most welcome these days. Running time: two hours 15 minutes, including intermission.

Old Times **

The circumstances for attending this Roundabout production were far from ideal. Fighting Times Square holiday crowds to see a 65-minute play was a dubious enterprise at best. Trying to maintain attention when there were FIVE interruptions by cellphones was nigh impossible. That being said, the play was not without its merits. The three actors — Clive Owen, Kelly Reilly and Eve Best — inhabited their roles thoroughly and even sang snippets of song pleasantly. The dialogue had moments of entertaining word play. Under Douglas Hodge’s direction, the usual long Pinter silences were virtually absent. That alone must have chopped at least ten minutes off the play’s length. The austere set by Christine Jones with a back wall of arcs radiating like rings from a pebble dropped in a pond and a door that resembled a block of ice was evocative. The costumes by Constance Hoffman suited the characters well. The moody sound design by Clive Goodman and dramatic lighting by Japhy Weideman enhanced the proceedings. The basic situation of a married couple in a remote house being visited by the wife’s former roommate of 20 years prior had promise. I just did not find the competing memories that involving. Under better circumstances, I might have enjoyed it more. In my opinion, offering a 65-minute play at Broadway prices is pushing the limits.

SIgnificant Other ***

After the success of his play “Bad Jews," Joshua Harmon is back at Roundabout’s Laura Pels Theatre with a new comedy-drama about Jordan Berman (Gideon Glick, in a breakout performance), a depressive 29-year-old gay New Yorker, and his three gal pals — Kiki (the hilarious Sas Goldberg), Vanessa (Carra Patterson) and Laura (the wonderful Lindsay Mendez). The play might have been called “Three Weddings and a Meltdown.” As his three friends find husbands and have less time for him, Jordan feels the deepening pain of not having his own significant other and the growing fear that he never will. John Behlmann and Luke Smith play the three husbands as well as three men that Jordan fails to connect with. Finally, there is the superb Barbara Barrie as Jordan’s grandmother, who has outlived her friends and whose mind may be slipping. I found the play irritating and moving in almost equal measure — irritating in that it too often goes for the easy laugh and moving in its wrenching portrayal of loneliness. I thought that at times the playwright was trying too hard to entertain, but the audience, at least 30 years younger than the usual subscription profile, seemed to be loving it, greeting every line, funny or not, with nervous laughter. It’s one of the rare plays where the second act is better than the first, with two stunning monologues for Jordan. The high quality of the acting elevated the material. Mark Wendland’s set impressed me as unnecessarily complicated and not very attractive. Kaye Voyce’s costumes were excellent. Trip Cullman’s direction was a bit overheated for my taste. Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes, including intermission.

Little Children Dream of God **

The mission of Roundabout Underground is to present works by emerging playwrights in the Black Box Theatre below the Laura Pels. In past years they have presented promising plays by Stephen Karam (Speech and Debate) and Joshua Harmon (Bad Jews.) Currently onstage is this ambitious work by Jeff Augustin, which deals mainly with Haitian refugees in Miami. We meet seven vivid characters. Sula (Carra Patterson) is a young pregnant woman from Haiti who struggles to delay her baby’s arrival until she is in the U.S. She is haunted by nightmares about her past. Her baby does not cry. Joel (Maurice Jones) is the son of the landlord who has turned his apartment house into a de facto refuge for immigrants. Carolyn (Deirdre O’Connell) is a nursing home aide with 11 children who lives in one of the apartments and who reluctantly takes Sula in. Vishal (Chris Myers) is the resident drag queen who sometimes sits for Carolyn’s children. Madison (Crystal Lucas-Perry) is Joel’s stereotypically yuppy cousin who hires Sula as her nanny. Manuel (Gilbert Cruz) is a dying patient of Carolyn’s who is estranged from his children. The Man (Carl Hendrick Louis) is the figure from Sula’s past who figures prominently in her nightmares. Some of the topics touched upon include the struggle to preserve a family heritage, the corrosive effects of gentrification, the disappearance of God, the attempt to escape one’s past, the efficacy of voodoo and the pain of dying alone unloved. I wished that the playwright had narrowed his scope and presented fewer but more fully developed themes. Some of the actors had trouble maintaining a Creole accent. Andrew Boyce’s flexible set design is simple but effective. Jennifer Caprio’s costumes are appropriate. Giovanna Sardelli’s direction cannot hide the unevenness of the material. Augustin shows promise if his control can catch up with his ambition. Running time: 2 hours including intermission.

Note: Judging from tonight’s theatergoers, Roundabout’s marketing to nontraditional audiences has been far more successful than LCT3’s. Tickets are $5 cheaper ($20 vs. $25), but I doubt that difference is significant.

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.

Indian Ink ***

It took almost 20 years to get here, but Tom Stoppard’s 1995 play (based on his 1991 radio play “In the Native State”) has finally reached New York in a first-rate production by Roundabout at the Laura Pels Theatre. One can speculate on the reasons it took so long — its large cast (15), its relative lack of the playwright’s customary intellectual showmanship, and its appearance between the flashier “Arcadia” and “The Invention of Love.” In any case, we should be glad it has at last arrived. The central character is Flora Crewe (a fine Romola Garai), a free-spirited young British woman whose erotic poetry has caused a bit of a scandal and who has gone to India early in 1930. Her alleged purpose is to give a lecture tour about the British literary world, but actually she has traveled for health reasons. While in Jummapur, she meets an Indian artist Nirad Das (Firdous Bamji,) who paints her portrait, and is wooed by a British colonial functionary David Durance (Lee Aaron Rosen). Shortly after leaving Jummapur for the Indian highlands, she dies. Although her work was scorned in her lifetime, 50 years later she has become all the rage. Her younger sister Eleanor (the always wonderful Rosemary Harris), now in her late sixties, is visited by an American professor Eldon Pike (Neal Huff) who is publishing her collected letters and is far more interested in unimportant details than in the truth. She is also visited by Anish Das (Bhavesh Patel), the painter’s son, who is trying to discover what transpired between Flora and his father. The action alternates between India in the early 1930s and England and India in the 1980s. Sometimes characters from both time periods are onstage at the same time, but there is no possibility of confusion. The play touches upon contrasting aesthetic traditions, the common bond that art provides and some of the effects of imperialism. The pace is unhurried, but if you are patient you should find the emotional payoff in the final scenes gratifying. The supporting cast is excellent. Neil Patel’s set design and Candice Donnelly’s costumes are attractively effective. Carey Perloff’s direction is straightforward and uncluttered. Running time: 2 hours 45 minutes including intermission. NOTE: There is a brief moment of full frontal female nudity.

Cabaret ***

Roundabout’s revival of the revival of this classic musical is mostly successful. The Sam Mendes/Rob Marshall production has lost little of its bite. Alan Cumming’s Emcee is as compelling a presence as ever. Bill Heck makes a fine Clifford Bradshaw. The ever-reliable Danny Burstein is a natural for Herr Schultz. Linda Emond is a revelation as Fraulein Schneider — who knew she had the vocal chops to go with her fine acting? Gayle Rankin and Aaron Krohn do right by the roles of Fraulein Kost and Ernst Ludwig. The talented (and beautiful!) Kit Kat Band once again plays Kander & Ebb's terrific score sensationally and the Kit Kat Girls and Boys are easy on the eyes and light on their feet. And then, alas, there’s Michelle Williams as Sally Bowles. I can’t explain precisely why she fails — her voice is not bad — but the role somehow seems beyond her expressive range. It doesn’t sink the show, but it definitely weakens its impact. Robert Brill’s set successfully turns Studio 54 into the Kit Kat Klub. The audience was wildly enthusiastic. Running time: 2 hours 30 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.

Machinal****

My theatergoing year got off to a very promising start with Roundabout Theatre's dazzling revival of Sophie Treadwell's expressionistic 1928 play. Helen (Rebecca Hall), a woman in her 20s who lives with and supports her unloving widowed mother (Suzanne Bertish), suffers from what used to be called neurasthenia, a kind of mental exhaustion brought on by the stresses of the impersonal, mechanistic, modern urban world. The stylized opening scene, set in the office where Helen works as a stenographer, brilliantly captures the relentless monotony and banality of the workplace. After Helen's older self-absorbed boss (Michael Cumpsty) takes a shine to her, she reluctantly marries him even though she cringes at his touch. When she visits a speakeasy with a friend, she meets a sexy young man (Morgan Spector) and begins an affair. Her powerful attraction to her lover makes her loveless marriage seem ever more intolerable. Complications ensue. Supporting the four excellent leads, 14 actors deftly handle multiple roles. A great deal of the success of the play is owed to its outstanding production design -- Es Devlin's set of beige geometrically etched panels mounted on a large turntable seems to bring us to a new location each time it revolves. It functions almost like one of the characters. When the set turns between scenes, we get fleeting vignettes choreographed by Sam Pinkleton which Jane Cox has dramatically lit by moving horizontal bands of light. The excellent sound design by Matt Tierney underscores the emotions onstage. Michael Krass has costumed the supporting cast in appropriately bleak monochromes. Director Lyndsey Turner has skillfully blended all these elements with brilliant results. Bravo to Roundabout for bringing us this rare treat. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.

The Winslow Boy ***

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After the Roundabout's dreary revival of "Man and Boy" two years ago, I was both surprised and dismayed to learn that they were presenting another Rattigan play this season. Fortunately, this time out they got things right. "The Winslow Boy" is a much better play and this is a much better production -- imported from the Old Vic with a new cast. This drawing-room drama with comic overtones is based on an actual case in early 20th-century England in which a 13-year-old cadet was accused of theft and expelled from the Royal Naval College after a dubious investigation. His father believes in his son's innocence and embarks on a two-year search for justice which exacts a steep price on the family, both financially and emotionally. The Winslow paterfamilias is Arthur (Roger Rees), a retired banker with a strong sense of his own correctness. His wife Grace (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio) has her hands full with him. Their eldest child Catherine (Charlotte Parry) is an active suffragette, newly betrothed to officer John Watherstone (Chandler Williams), who is a bit of a prig. Middle child Dickie (Zachary Booth), who is at Oxford, is far more interested in partying than studying. Ronnie (Spencer Davis Milford), the accused thief, is still very much a child. Violet (Henny Russell), the family maid, is a bit rough around the edges, even after 24 years of service. The family solicitor Desmond Curry (Michael Cumpsty), a former cricket star, has long felt the pangs of unrequited love for Catherine. He introduces the family to Sir Robert Morton (Alessandro Nivola), London's leading barrister, who, after an almost brutal interrogation of Ronnie, agrees to take the case. Over the next two years, the case became a cause celebre and fodder for the tabloid press, whom Rattigan mercilessly parodied in the person of young reporter Miss Barnes (Meredith Forlenza). Rattigan wisely concentrates on the family's changing relationships, rather than on the complicated legal details of the case. In a strong cast, Cumpsty, Parry and Nivola stand out. I was slightly disappointed that Rees's performance was not more nuanced. The sets and costumes by Peter McKintosh are outstanding, as is Lindsay Posner's direction. Although the play's pace is leisurely, I was never bored. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes including intermission.

NOTE: Reality is often crueler than fiction. George Archer-Shee, the accused thief in the actual case, died at Ypres at the age of 19.

The Unavoidable Disappearance of Tom Durnin *

It is admirable that Roundabout Theatre Company is trying to encourage young talent by giving playwrights who have had a success in their Underground space a chance to move upstairs to the Laura Pels. On the basis of his 2008 play "The Language of Trees," Roundabout has given that chance to Steven Levenson. Unfortunately, at least to me, his new work did not seem ready for prime time. Tom Durnin (David Morse) has just finished a five-year sentence for perpetrating a Ponzi scheme that wiped out the fortunes of his family and friends. His adult son James (Christopher Denham), who was forced to drop out of Yale when the money vanished, has been particularly traumatized, to the point that he become an emotional cipher. Tom bullies his son into letting him sleep on his couch for a month and blackmails his son-in-law Chris (Rich Sommer of "Mad Men") into putting him in contact with wife Karen (Lisa Emery). James cautiously begins a relationship with Katie (Sarah Goldberg), a woman he meets in writing class. The premise is intriguing, but the play mostly spins its wheels aimlessly. The tone moves uneasily between comedy (such as the wretched writing samples we are forced to hear) to drama that mostly fizzles. The character of Katie is so annoyingly vapid that I cringed whenever she appeared. The always interesting Morse mostly underplays the part of a manipulative liar. The usually fine Emery does not get much opportunity to shine. Sommer's character verges on the cartoonish. Denham was convincing as someone with crippling depression. Beowulf Boritt's revolving set concentrates too much of the action on the right half of the stage. Jeff Mahsie's costumes did not call attention to themselves. Scott Ellis directed. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes, no intermission.

The Big Knife **

After the success of the recent revivals of "Awake and Sing!" and "Golden Boy," it must have seemed like a good idea for Roundabout Theatre to revive another Clifford Odets play. Unfortunately, it wasn't -- at least not this minor work set in Hollywood in 1948. Charlie Castle (Bobby Cannavale) is a disillusioned leading man whom  studio head Marcus Hoff (Richard Kind) is determined to get to sign a 12-year contract by whatever means necessary. Charlie's idealistic wife Marion (Marin Ireland) threatens to divorce him if he signs. Their screenwriter friend Hank Teagle (C.J. Wilson), who is going back to New York to write a novel about Tinseltown, hopes Marion will leave Charlie and come with him. We also meet Buddy Bliss (Joey Slotnick), the PR man who took the rap and served time for an auto accident that Charlie was responsible for, his unsatisfied wife Connie (Ana Reeder) who has slept with Charlie occasionally, Dixie Evans (Rachel Brosnahan), the ingenue who was in the car with Charlie when the accident occurred and whose silence the studio has bought, the aptly named Smiley Coy (Reg Rogers), Hoff's right-hand man, Charlie's agent Nat Danziger (Chip Zien), gossip columnist Patty Benedict (Brenda Wehle) and the butler Russell (Billy Eugene Jones). While I have much admired Cannavale and Ireland on other occasions, I found them inadequate here. In their defense, their roles are less interesting than the supporting characters, up to and including the butler. The play springs briefly to life in the final scene, but by then it is far too late to care. The dialog is overwrought, the characters are underwritten and the production is undercooked, all adding up to a long tedious evening. Doug Hughes' direction shows no improvement over the mess he made out of "Enemy of the People" last year. On the plus side, John Lee Beatty's set design is superb and Catherine Zuber's costumes are wonderful. If the trite plot really interests you, you can save a lot of money by renting the film version with such Hollywood luminaries as Jack Palance, Ida Lupino, Wendell Corey, Jean Hagen, Rod Steiger, Shelley Winters, Ilka Chase and Everett Sloane. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes, including intermission.

Talley's Folly **

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Roundabout Theatre's revival of Lanford Wilson's Pulitzer Prize-winning play about an unlikely romance in small-town Missouri in 1944 is now in previews at the Laura Pels. The good news is that it much more successful than their recent revival of "Picnic." The not-so-good news is that the casting is less than ideal. If I had not seen the original production with Judd Hirsch as Matt Friedman, I might not have had as much difficulty accepting Danny Burstein in the part. Although I have admired Burstein in other plays, I thought he was miscast here. He seems too old, too unattractive, too given to shtick and too devoid of charm to be a plausible love interest for Sally Talley. Sarah Paulson also looked a bit old for her part, but handled the role well. Jeff Cowie's enormous set, so big that they had to remove two rows of seats to make room for it, calls too much attention to itself and subverts the intimacy of the play. David C. Woolard's costumes are fine.   Michael Wilson's direction lacked nuance. Nevertheless, even a flawed production of this fine play is welcome. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes without intermission.

Picnic **

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60 years ago, William Inge's drama of sexual repression in a small Kansas town won the Pulitzer. Alas, time has not been kind. What must have seemed daring and edgy then has lost most of its force. It may be churlish to find fault with a production that brings us such fine actors as Mare Winningham, Ellen Burstyn, Elizabeth Marvel and Reed Birney, but the focus of the play is on Maggie Grace and Sebastian Stan, who, although they each look terrific, do not generate much heat. The supporting cast, which includes Madeleine Martin, Ben Rappaport, Maddie Corman, Cassie Beck, Chris Perfetti and Lizbeth Mackay, are all fine, but that only underlines the relative weakness of the central couple. Marvel and Birney virtually steal the play. After the horrible set he created for "Look Back in Anger," I was surprised to see Roundabout turn again to Andrew Lieberman. He apparently likes shallow, cramped sets. The rusty corrugated panels that fill the stage behind the two houses are most unattractive. Perhaps his intent was to illustrate the confines of small-town life, but his set is ungainly. David Zinn's costumes recreate the period well. Sam Gold's direction works most of the time, but the lack of a charismatic lead couple undercuts the play's impact. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes including intermission.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood **

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The Roundabout Theatre has lovingly revived this 1985 musical adaptation of Dickens' unfinished novel.  Rupert Holmes had the idea of presenting the story as an English music hall entertainment of the 1890's, with the added twist of letting the audience vote for the ending at each performance. It ran for over 600 performances and won Tonys for best musical, best score and best book. That, to me, is the real mystery. The spirited and talented cast is led by Stephanie J. Block, Will Chase, Gregg Edelman, Jim Norton and Chita Rivera. The set design by Anna Louizos is excellent and William Ivey Long's costumes are a delight. Scott Ellis directed. There is abundant merriment, but it seemed forced rather than effortless. The audience was much younger than typical for Broadway and responded with wild enthusiasm all evening. It just wasn't my cup of tea. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes including intermission.

Harvey **

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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.

Don't Dress for Dinner **

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Robin Howdon's English adaptation of this broad French farce by Marc Camoletti ran in London for six years. Go figure! The characters Bernard and Robert from his earlier success Boeing-Boeing are back. Bernard (Adam James), now married, is planning a weekend with his mistress Suzanne (Jennifer Tilly) while his wife Jacqueline (Patricia Kalember) is away visiting her mother. His best friend Robert (Ben Daniels), who, unbeknownst to Bernard, is Jacqueline's lover, is also spending the weekend. Bernard has engaged a chef, Suzette (Spencer Kayden), to prepare a romantic dinner. Jacqueline's abrupt cancellation of her trip sets off a tightly scripted round of mistaken identities, misunderstandings and pratfalls. The physical humor is extremely well-choreographed and the actors, except for Tilly, are very good. Daniels, who has the thankless task of portraying a character that Mark Rylance played, acquits himself admirably. Kayden repeatedly steals scenes. David Aron Damane makes the most of the small role of George. I suppose it's unrealistic to look for any depth of characterization in a farce, but I felt very little stake in what happened to anyone. What pleasure there is comes from watching the complications unfold with the precision of a Swiss clock. John Lee Beatty's set and William Ivey Long's costumes are fine. John Tillinger's direction keeps the action lively in this Roundabout production. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes, including intermission.

Look Back in Anger *

(Please click on the title to see the complete review.)
Roundabout Theatre's current revival of John Osborne's 1956 play is a puzzler. Granted, it's impossible to recreate the shock waves the play set off when it first appeared. But what's the point of reviving it if you strip out almost all the social and political background that makes the play comprehensible? One of the characters has been eliminated too. In the present version you would be hard put to figure out just what Jimmy Porter is so angry about. Matthew Rhys captures Jimmy's anger, but comes up short on the magnetism that would explain what holds people in his thrall. Also, it's a stretch to believe in him as a 25-year-old. Sarah Goldberg, as Jimmy's wife Alison, is fine in the first two acts, but doesn't find the right note for the final act. Adam Driver, as Cliff Lewis, is eminently watchable, but the reasons for his devotion to Jimmy remain a riddle. Charlotte Parry is strong as Helena. The production is very poorly served by Andrew Lieberman's set. A charcoal gray wall without windows or doors covers the entire stage, leaving a strip perhaps four feet deep for the action. This strip is cluttered with decrepit furniture, an iconic ironing board, and piles of trash and rotting food. If this is a metaphor for their circumscribed, squalid lives, it is a heavy-handed one. Mark Barton's lighting is problematic too. The audience is bathed in harsh bright light which gradually fades once the play begins. Sam Gold, in his third New York play this season, directed. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes.