this week in broadway

FROZEN

Elsa (Caissie Levy) becomes Queen of Arendelle as sister Anna (Patti Murin) looks on in wonder in Frozen (photo by Deen van Meer)

St. James Theatre
246 West 44th St. between Broadway & Eighth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through July 2, $99 – $199
frozenthemusical.com

It’s ice cold at the St. James Theatre, and I’m not talking about the air-conditioning inside or the weather outside the venerable Broadway venue. I’m referring to what is happening onstage, where Disney has turned its Oscar-winning 2013 animated film into a special-effects-laden musical. Attempting to capture the runaway success of such other animation-to-Broadway hits as Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, and The Lion King, Disney has instead made a mess of the plot, which was inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s story “The Snow Queen,” and added nothing memorable in the expanded score. In case you’re not familiar with the story: In a faraway kingdom, King Angarr (James Brown III) and Queen Iduna (Ann Sanders) have two young daughters, Anna (Audrey Bennett or Mattea Conforti) and Elsa (Brooklyn Nelson or Ayla Schwartz). Elsa is gifted (the gift is a curse, of course) with icy magic she can’t control. One day Elsa freezes part of Anna, so Pabbie (Timothy Hughes) and Bulda (Olivia Phillip) of the Hidden People save Anna but cannot remove the magic from Elsa, who despairs of her power. The parents separate the children to avoid another incident, but the adults are soon lost at sea — this is Disney, after all, where parents rarely fare well. Ten years later, Elsa (Caissie Levy) is ready to be queen of Arendelle; at the coronation ceremony, the sisters are reunited. The Duke of Weselton (Robert Creighton) makes a play for the queen, while Anna (Patti Murin) falls madly in love with Prince Hans (John Riddle) of the Southern Isles. Queen Elsa once again loses control of her magic and this time dooms Arendelle to an eternal winter. Unable to reverse the spell, she returns to her northern castle, where she plans to live alone so she can never harm anyone again. Anna is determined to brave the brutal cold and get to her sister, joined by ice seller Kristoff (Jelani Alladin), his trusted sidekick, Sven the reindeer (Andrew Pirozzi), and Olaf (Greg Hildreth), the girls’ childhood snowman come to life. Danger awaits along their treacherous journey, even with a brief respite supplied by Oaken (Kevin del Aguila), who offers them hot drinks and the use of a sauna. But the closer they get to the castle, the more it looks like they’re not going to make it alive.

Kristoff (Jelani Alladin) and Sven the reindeer (Andrew Pirozzi) take a break in Disney musical (photo by Deen van Meer)

The Broadway musical features a book by Jennifer Lee, who wrote the screenplay and codirected the movie with Chris Buck, and music and lyrics by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez, who wrote the eight songs for the film and an additional dozen for the show. “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” is still fun, and Levy gets to belt out the Oscar-winning “Let It Go” as the first-act closer, but many of the other songs don’t fall in sync with the narrative, bringing everything to a stop as the orchestrations soar just because they can. Murin (Lysistrata Jones, Wicked) has a goofy charm as Anna and bonds well with Riddle (The Visit, The Little Mermaid), but she and Alladin (Sweetee, Choir Boy) never generate the necessary heat between them. Hildreth (The Robber Bridegroom, Peter and the Starcatcher) nearly steals the show as Olaf, who manually operates the puppet from behind, when it is not already being stolen by Pirozzi (Movin’ Out, Hairspray Live!), who portrays Sven by arching over and using stilts inside the reindeer suit. (The reindeer’s blinking is creepy in a good way.) The costumes are by Tony winner Christopher Oram (The Cripple of Inishmaan, Evita), who also designed the ever-changing set, ranging from the girls’ bedroom to an ornate room in the castle, from a mountain trading post to ice daggers rising out of the floor. Levy (Les Misérables, Ghost) is in strong voice but gets overwhelmed by the special effects (designed by Jeremy Chernick, with lighting by six-time Tony winner Natasha Katz, sound by four-time Tony nominee Peter Hylenski, and projections by Tony winner Finn Ross), as does Tony winner Rob Ashford’s (Thoroughly Modern Millie, Cry-Baby) choreography and Tony winner Michael Grandage’s (Red, Merrily We Roll Along) direction. The cracking sounds and images as the ice spreads across the stage and even onto the walls of the theater are impressive, but they also grow more and more distracting, but perhaps that was done on purpose as the story grows holes that you can drive an ice truck through.

LOBBY HERO

Michael Cera and Brian Tyree Henry star in Broadway debut of Kenneth Lonergan’s Lobby Hero (photo by Joan Marcus, 2018)

The Hayes Theater
240 West 44th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through May 13, $99 – $169
2st.com

Kenneth Lonergan is en fuego. In 2014, the playwright and filmmaker’s 1996 work, This Is Our Youth, debuted on Broadway. Lonergan’s first play to make it to the Great White Way earned a Tony nod for Best Revival. Two years later, his off-Broadway play Hold on to Me Darling had an extended run at the Atlantic Theater, and the Bronx-born Lonergan’s indie film Manchester by the Sea was nominated for six Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay; Lonergan won the latter. And no sooner did Lonergan’s 2001 play, Lobby Hero, start accumulating accolades for its current Broadway revival than it was announced that his Pulitzer Prize–nominated 2000 work, The Waverly Gallery, will make its Broadway bow in the 2019 season. Lobby Hero also has the honor of being the first play produced at Second Stage’s first home on Broadway, the newly remodeled Hayes Theater on West Forty-Fourth St., where the show continues through May 13.

Chris Evans makes his Broadway debut as a tough-talking cop opposite Bel Powley at the Hayes Theater (photo by Joan Marcus, 2018)

In Lobby Hero, Lonergan explores personal and professional responsibility while addressing police brutality, sexual harassment, misogyny, the prison system, militarism, lust, and racism; he made only minor tweaks to the original play, and more than a decade after he wrote it, it still fits in extremely well in this #MeToo, Black Lives Matter era. Michael Cera, who starred in the revival of This Is Our Youth and will be in The Waverly Gallery with Elaine May, plays the title character, Jeff, a wisecracking, ne’er-do-well security guard at a Manhattan apartment building. Jeff, who is trying to get his life on track, works for William (Brian Tyree Henry), known as the Captain, a straightforward boss who likes to think he is tough but fair. After Jeff fails to have a police officer who entered the building sign the book, William tells him, “Look, if you stick to the rules, then you never have to have a discussion about whether or not you were justified not sticking to the rules.” Jeff, who thinks he deserves a break, responds, “I am like the most conscientious guy in this whole building. The rest of these guys are like a bunch of crack addicts and degenerates.” The cop who refused to sign in is the hard-headed Bill (Chris Evans), who is in line for a gold shield. He comes by often to call on Mrs. Heinvald in 22J, making his new partner, Dawn (Bel Powley), wait downstairs while he conducts his business. Jeff develops an instant crush on Dawn, who is still on her probationary period after graduating from the academy, but William, a practical man who admits he is “no fun,” puts the kibosh on that. “Whatever you do, you’re just an imitation cop and she’s a real cop. And if you get involved with some lady policewoman, it is a sure bet you’re gonna end up feeling outranked and outclassed,” he says. Ever the jokester, Jeff replies, “I always feel that way. My last girlfriend was a tollbooth collector, and she intimidated the shit out of me. At least if I was going out with a cop, I’d feel, you know, somewhat safe.” When William has a difficult decision to make regarding his brother’s arrest for a gruesome crime, it sets in motion a series of truths and lies that impacts all four of the characters’ lives, changing the power dynamic as they each search for answers to some dangerous situations.

David Rockwell’s set gives the audience different angles on potent situations (photo by Joan Marcus, 2018)

Lobby Hero takes place on David Rockwell’s open, revolving set, which offers several different angles of the lobby as well as the street outside on the cops’ beat. Cera (Juno, Superbad) and Emmy nominee Henry (Atlanta, The Book of Mormon) have an immediate chemistry onstage, like the classic comic and straight man act; Cera is fun as the quipster who seems to really be a good if goofy guy, while Tyree is sensational as the oh-so-serious William, who just wants himself, and everyone he comes into contact with, to do the right thing all the time. Oddly, while Cera and Henry fill their roles with believability and honesty, Evans (Captain America, Snowpiercer), in his Broadway debut, and Powley (Arcadia, The Diary of a Teenage Girl) feel like stereotypes, often going too far over the top, Evans overplaying Bill’s self-importance, Powley using a distractingly childish voice as Dawn. (Cera and Evans also appeared together as adversaries in the 2010 film Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.) Fortunately, director Trip Cullman (Six Degrees of Separation, Significant Other) doesn’t let the characterizations get too far out of hand, as Cera and Henry — both worthy of Tony nominations — bring it all back down to earth. Lonergan (You Can Count on Me, Margaret) writes incisive, riveting dialogue that makes its points with intelligence as it touches on key issues. “You don’t worry about if the world is bad or good, because I know goddamn well it’s bad,” William tells Jeff. “You just do your best and let the chips fall where they may.” But Lonergan takes it just that much further, pointing out that we all have a part to play in our destinies. “I feel a little bit responsible for the mess you’re in,” Jeff says to Dawn, who responds, “You’re not responsible. I’m responsible. I’m totally responsible.” And once again, the hotter-than-hot Lonergan is responsible for shining a light on our everyday foibles as well as the current state of our country.

THREE TALL WOMEN

Laurie Metcalf helps Glenda Jackson to her favorite chair as Alison Pill looks on in Three Tall Women (photo © Brigitte Lacombe)

Golden Theatre
252 West 45th St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through June 24, $47 – $159
threetallwomenbroadway.com

Edward Albee’s 1991 Pulitzer Prize–winning play, Three Tall Women, is finally making its Broadway debut, in an elegant, exquisitely rendered production directed by Joe Mantello at the Golden Theatre, featuring American actress Laurie Metcalf, Canadian actress Alison Pill, and British legend Glenda Jackson. The two-act intermissionless play, an ingenious depiction of aging, among other things, takes place in the 1990s in the lush bedroom of a sneering, wealthy widow identified in the program as A (Jackson), who is in her early nineties. She lives with her wisecracking, pessimistic caretaker, B (Metcalf), who is fifty-two. They have been joined by the deadly serious C (Pill), a twenty-six-year-old sharply dressed lawyer who needs A to sign some forms she’s been ignoring. Each woman represents a different class and generation, youth, middle age, and old age, each with different values, desires, and expectations, but as B likes to point out, everyone is on their way toward death. “Start in young,” she says, referring to children. “Make ’em aware that they’ve got only a little time. Make ’em aware that they’re dying from the minute they’re alive.” Amid visits to the bathroom, anecdotes about the past, and legal papers to be signed, the women deliver rapid comebacks with plenty of snark as they consider the state of their lives. But then a paradigm shift occurs, and in the second act there is a slight but key change in the set and in the characters, who are no longer quite what they were previously. Once the audience realizes what is happening, there are likely to be more than a few thrilled gasps of recognition as Albee peers ever deeper into the life of the female species, leading to an utterly breathtaking finale.

Glenda Jackson holds court in Edward Albee’s Three Tall Women at the Golden Theatre (photo © Brigitte Lacombe)

Three Tall Women was inspired by Albee’s troubled relationship with his adoptive mother. “We had managed to make each other very unhappy over the years, but I was past all that, though I think she was not,” Albee wrote in the introduction to the published 1994 edition of the play. “I harbor no ill-will toward her; it is true I did not like her much, could not abide her prejudices, her loathings, her paranoias, but I did admire her pride, her sense of self. . . . No, it was not a revenge piece I was after, and I was not interested in ‘coming to terms’ with my feelings toward her.” It is precisely for those reasons that Three Tall Women works so well. There are no heroes or villains, no black-and-white depictions of good and evil. A, B, and C all have their own strengths and weaknesses; despite the specificity of their lives, they are everywoman, experiencing the ups and downs of everyday existence, since death is the great equalizer. Few male playwrights have drafted such female characters as Albee, who also displayed that vast skill in such other works as The Lady from Dubuque; The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?; Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and Pulitzer Prize winners A Delicate Balance and Seascape.

Alison Pill, Glenda Jackson, and Laurie Metcalf star in Broadway debut of Edward Albee’s Three Tall Women (photo © Brigitte Lacombe)

The eighty-one-year-old Jackson (Strange Interlude, A Touch of Class), in a tight hairstyle that is a character unto itself, is feisty and glamorous in her first Broadway role since she was nominated for a Tony in Macbeth in 1988, having left acting to pursue a career in politics, serving as an MP from 1992 to 2015; her A is a bigoted wealthy widow, mother, and former grande dame who is refusing to come to terms with the maladies that befall the elderly, no matter how rich they might be. The sixty-two-year-old Metcalf (A Doll’s House Part 2, The Other Place) gives a homey charm to the sarcastic spinster B. And the thirty-two-year-old Pill (Blackbird, The Lieutenant of Inishmore) holds her own as the practical C, who has dreams of a great future for herself despite seeing what lies ahead. (Among the other trios to have played the three women are Myra Carter, Marian Seldes, and Jordan Baker at the Vineyard in 1994 and Maggie Smith, Frances de la Tour, and Anastasia Hille in the West End that same year.) Two-time Tony winner Mantello (The Humans, Love! Valour! Compassion!) lets the three actresses strut their stuff with minimal intrusion on Miriam Buether’s opulent bedroom set, which is centered by the stately bed itself, here representing birth, sex, and, ultimately, death.

ROCKTOPIA

Rocktopia blends classic rock and classical music on Broadway (photo by Matthew Murphy)

The Broadway Theatre
1681 Broadway at 53rd St.
Through April 29, $39 – $187
rocktopia.com

Much of Rocktopia, which opened Tuesday night at the Broadway Theatre, is a curiosity, a blending of classic rock and classical music that in theory might be a cool idea but in execution could be problematic. Rocktopia is a different kind of jukebox musical, with no narrative, consisting of overly familiar songs performed by pop, rock, theater, reality show, and opera singers, a five-piece rock band, the thirty-person New York Contemporary Choir, and the twenty-piece New York Contemporary Symphony Orchestra. Conceived by Trans-Siberian Orchestra member and Broadway veteran Rob Evan (Jekyll and Hyde, Les Misérables) and American conductor Randall Craig Fleischer, the traveling project is an up-and-down affair, as vocal histrionics get carried away, the setlist is about as standard as it comes, and amateurish, seemingly unrelated visuals are projected onto fifteen large, vertical piano keys at the top rear of the stage. But then something magical happens, where it all suddenly comes together for an absolutely smashing last few numbers that brought the crowd to its feet, everyone singing and dancing with an intoxicating fervor.

Celtic violinist Máiréad Nesbit and vocalist Rob Evan rock out at the Broadway Theatre (photo by Matthew Murphy)

The show opens with the pairing of Richard Strauss’s “Also sprach Zarathustra” and the Who’s “Baba O’Riley,” sung by Evan and Tony Vincent (American Idiot, Jesus Christ Superstar), followed by Mozart’s “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” with Styx’s “Come Sail Away,” performed by Evan, Vincent (The Voice), Chloe Lowery (Trans-Siberian Orchestra), and Kimberly Nichole (The Voice). The double shot gets the point across but without any fireworks, as the melding of the two genres felt too obvious and separate. Special guest Pat Monahan of Train, who will be part of the show through April 6 (Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider is the guest April 9-15, followed by Cheap Trick’s Robin Zander April 23-29), takes center stage to get the Led out (first with Beethoven, then Puccini), but Stravinsky/Hendrix is out of place, as is Mussorgsky/U2, the latter accompanied by documentary footage of poor communities. However, it’s a thrill to see diva Alyson Cambridge, who has performed at the Met and the Washington National Opera, lend class to the festivities by singing Handel’s “Lascia ch’io pianga” and Lucio Dalla’s “Caruso” and also duetting with Evan. On nearly every song, Celtic violinist Máiréad Nesbitt sparkles, playing her fiddle as she flits about the stage like a mad fairy or sprite. There actually is a rhyme and reason for the visuals; in the online Rocktopia study guide, the evening moves from “Creation/Birth,” “Adolescence,” and “Experimentation” through “Dreams,” “Oppression/Rebellion,” and other aspects of the human condition, not that you would know that from what’s happening onstage. And we’re still trying to figure out the inclusion of John Denver in a video tribute to such dead rock stars as Jimi, Janis, Jerry, Jim, George, John, Prince, and Bowie, as well as photos of Eleanor Roosevelt, Amelia Earhart, and, yes, Anne Frank during the theme from Schindler’s List. Meanwhile, the woman vocalists and Nesbitt look like they just stepped out of a Mad Max movie, wearing postapocalyptic gowns designed by Cynthia Nordstrom, and Vincent appears to be doubling for Robin Lord Taylor’s Penguin on Gotham.

Rob Monahan of Train is Rocktopia’s special guest through April 6 (photo by Matthew Murphy)

And then it happens. Samuel Barber meets Queen, Beethoven takes on Journey, and Gershwin intertwines with Queen in all the ways Evan and Fleischer intended, the classical music and the classic rock coming together, weaving in and out of each other, sending electricity across a room that suddenly comes alive as one. Guitarist Tony Bruno, bassist Mat Fieldes, drummer Alex Alexander, pianist and music director Henry Aronson (Rock of Ages, Grease), Nesbitt, the choir, the orchestra, and the singers — if still not the projections — bring down the house, leaving no one in their seat. Sure, it’s cheesy and extremely safe, but it’s also tons of fun if you just let yourself go. It might not be quite the revolution Evan and Fleischer intended, and it’s far more likely to attract fans of American Idol and The Voice and baby boomers who go to Jones Beach to see 1970s retreads rather than classical music lovers who go to the Met and Lincoln Center for opera and the symphony, but you can’t have everything. And what’s wrong with a little mindless entertainment in these hard times?

ESCAPE TO MARGARITAVILLE

Lisa Howard, Alison Luff, Paul Alexander Nolan, and Eric Petersen get wasted away again in Margaritaville (photo © Matthew Murphy)

Marquis Theatre
210 West 46th St. at Broadway
Tuesday – Sunday through July 1, $59-$169
escapetomargaritavillemusical.com

Greg Garcia and Mike O’Malley do a phenomenal job adapting Jimmy Buffet’s songs into the rousing Escape to Margaritaville, which opened tonight at the Marquis Theatre. The television veterans and first-time book writers have created a show that was well on its way toward being one of the best new musicals on Broadway — until the last half hour or so rapidly devolved into saccharine, lowest-common-denominator fluff. But up till then, it’s a tasty buffet featuring a bright young cast, astute direction by Christopher Ashley, playful choreography by Kelly Devine, and a flurry of Easter eggs that will delight laid-back Parrotheads everywhere. The plot is about as basic as it comes. Tammy (Lisa Howard) is preparing to marry the doltish, beer-swilling, sports-obsessed Chadd (Ian Michael Stuart). The week before the wedding, Tammy and her best friend, Rachel (Alison Luff), jet off on a Caribbean bachelorette vacation. While Tammy is looking forward to partying and flirting, Rachel, an environmental scientist, is more interested in getting cell service and collecting soil samples from the top of a volcano. The adorable Rachel is immediately pounced on by the love-’em-and-leave-’em Tully Mars (Paul Alexander Nolan), a Buffett-like singer-songwriter and islander who is the primary entertainment at the not-quite-luxurious Margaritaville Hotel and Bar, where work is a dirty four-letter word. Tully’s best friend, Brick (Eric Petersen), is a clueless but lovable bartender who takes an instant liking to Tammy. The hotel is owned and operated by Marley (Rema Webb), with Jamal (Andre Ward) in charge of keeping the guests happy; both characters are colonialist leftovers that should have been more sensitively developed instead of merely being outdated stereotypes. While Rachel lets down her hard-shell exterior and warms up to Tully’s incessant advances, Tammy is having such a good time with Brick that she is reconsidering her situation with Chadd. But when the volcano threatens to explode, everybody is forced to reevaluate their lives and loves.

Garcia (My Name Is Earl, Raising Hope) and O’Malley (Survivor’s Remorse, Shameless) have done their homework, creating a tight book that is filled with myriad minor details that later pop up in the songs; Buffett fans might get an inkling of what’s to come, but even newbies will get a kick out of how it all comes full circle. For example, J.D. (Don Sparks), an older, one-eyed drunken pilot, is constantly misplacing the salt. When the company performs Buffett’s most famous tune, “Margaritaville,” J.D. takes the microphone when it comes time for the favorite line “Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt.” Similarly, the diet that Chadd puts Tammy on, consisting of only carrot juice and sunflower seeds, is taken from “Cheeseburger in Paradise.” And if you’re wondering why Tammy and Rachel are from Cincinnati, just listen closely to the beginning of “Fins.” The show gets just about everything right, including inventive uses of wires to show characters snorkeling, until the last handful of scenes, when it degenerates suddenly into treacly Broadway clichés, turning its back on the risky plot choices that came before; to have really shaken up the genre and been a creative whole, it actually could have ended at intermission, or at least about halfway through the second act, and avoid the approaching shipwreck. Alas, the rest was so dreadful that I almost wanted to make my escape from Margaritaville, but I stuck it out.

The music, of course, is a helluva lot of fun. For the most part, Michael Utley’s orchestrations remain faithful to Buffett’s originals, only occasionally going over the top and becoming Broadway-fied; Buffett was involved in the song selection and tweaked some tunes for the show in addition to writing “Three Chords” for Tully and Rachel. Walt Spangler’s hotel set makes you feel like you’re in the Caribbean, partying with the tourists. (Yes, there are margaritas available for purchase; at an early preview the theater reportedly ran out of Triple Sec because demand was so high.) Howard (It Shoulda Been You, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee) has charm and energy to boot as Tammy, while Luff (Les Misérables, Matilda) is smart and sexy as Rachel. Petersen (School of Rock, Elf) provides plenty of comic relief, but Nolan (Bright Star, Doctor Zhivago) is a bit too smarmy as Tully, even as his heart warms up to unexpected possibilities. It’s a shame that the ending is so banal, running out of creative risks the way the theater bar ran out of Triple Sec.

SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS: THE BROADWAY MUSICAL

The cast of SpongeBob SquarePants jumps for joy as disaster threatens in Broadway extravaganza (photo by Joan Marcus)

Palace Theatre
1564 Broadway at 47th St.
Tuesday – Sunday through September 2, $49-$145
spongebobbroadway.com

When a volcano threatens to destroy the undersea community of Bikini Bottom, the motley crew of residents must come together in order to survive in the tons-of-fun Broadway extravaganza SpongeBob SquarePants. Conceived and directed by Tina Landau based on Stephen Hillenburg’s long-running tongue-in-cheek cartoon series, which debuted on Nickelodeon in 2003, the musical version is a delight for both kids and adults. Tony-winning scenic designer David Zinn (The Humans, Fun Home) has transformed the Palace Theatre into a fanciful wonderland of undersea detritus hanging from the walls and ceiling and extending off the stage, complete with two huge Rube Goldberg-like machines on either side. Zinn also designed the costumes, keeping them relatively simple, primarily humans with playful elements: SpongeBob portrayer Ethan Slater, in his stirring Broadway debut, is dressed in a yellow shirt, red tie, plaid pants, and knee-length socks, speaking and singing in the cartoon character’s squeaky high-pitched voice; Danny Skinner wears a Hawaiian shirt over a purple tee, bright shorts, and slicked-up hair as SpongeBob’s BFF, the dimwitted but lovable Patrick Star; as crooning octopus Squidward Q. Tentacles, Gavin Lee has an extra pair of legs; Brian Ray Norris as money-loving Krusty Krab owner Eugene Krabs has two giant red claws for hands; Jai’len Christine Li Josey as sperm whale Pearl is dressed like a high school cheerleader; and Lilli Cooper as the squirrel scientist Sandy Cheeks is an astronaut with an Afro. The main cast is rounded out by Wesley Taylor as the evil, eye-patch-wearing villain Sheldon J. Plankton, who wants everyone to eat at his awful Chum Bucket restaurant instead of the Krusty Krab; Stephanie Hsu as his wife, the futuristic-looking Karen the Computer; Gaelen Gilliland as the mayor, who tweets in nonsensical political double talk; Kelvin Moon Loh as television reporter Perch Perkins, who is tracking the volcano’s progress as doomsday beckons; Gary, the mewing snail, who is not played by a person; and Jon Rua as Patchy the Pirate, the president of the SpongeBob SquarePants Fan Club, whose memorabilia is on view in front of the stage on the left side. With the countdown clock ticking down, SpongeBob, Patrick, and the rest of the benthic town desperately try to come up with a plan to save Bikini Bottom before it is laid to waste.

The devious Sheldon J. Plankton (Wesley Taylor) is up to no good in SpongeBob SquarePants (photo by Joan Marcus)

Obie-winning book writer Kyle Jarrow (The Wildness, A Very Merry Unauthorized Children’s Scientology Pageant) tosses in a plethora of puns and looming darkness, never passing up the chance for a good laugh, even if it’s aimed at the show itself. “A fry cook is all you’ll ever be. You’re just a simple sponge, boy,” Mr. Krabs says to his employee-of-the-month, SpongeBob, continuing, “And yet somehow you don’t seem to absorb very much.” Later, Squidward tells SpongeBob, “The world is a horrible place filled with fear, suffering, and despair. Also dashed hopes, shattered dreams, broken promises, and abject misery.” But ever the positive trooper, the Aplysina fistularis known as SpongeBob replies, “But it’s our horrible place . . . with the best abject misery.” The narrative breaks down significantly in the second act, but Christopher Gattelli’s (The King and I, War Paint) jubilant choreography keeps everything bouncy, and the music sparkles throughout, with songs written by a diverse superstar lineup that soars far above standard Broadway fare, including David Bowie and Brian Eno, Panic! at the Disco, Yolanda Adams, Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, They Might Be Giants, T.I., Lady Antebellum, John Legend, the Plain White T’s, Cyndi Lauper and Rob Hyman, Sara Bareilles, Jonathan Coulton, and the Flaming Lips. Show up early to get a good look at all the crazy items around the theater — what’s with all the 1980s boomboxes? — and to get in the mood as the small band plays tropical music. Landau (Big Love, Old Hats) keeps everyone on their toes — watch out as some characters go running up and down the aisles — and smiling for more than two hours. And just to reiterate, the show is not aimed only at kids; the night we went, there were not that many children at all, the audience peppered instead with grown-ups of all ages, rolling around laughing in their seats. Like the Nickelodeon show, the Broadway musical is downright silly, but as Patrick says, “There’s nothing more fun than mindless entertainment.” Amen to that.

JOHN LITHGOW: STORIES BY HEART

John Lithgow celebrates the power of storytelling in one-man Broadway show (photo by Joan Marcus)

American Airlines Theatre
227 West 42nd St. between Broadway & Eighth Ave.
Tuesday – Sunday through March 4, $49-$149
212-719-1300
www.roundabouttheatre.org

“So what the hell is this?!” John Lithgow proclaims at the beginning of his one-man Broadway show, John Lithgow: Stories by Heart, a Roundabout production that opened earlier this month at the American Airlines Theatre and continues through March 4. The two-act, two-hour presentation is a celebration of family, the art and power of storytelling, and the art of acting itself, but it’s too slight to feel like a full-fledged play. A Harvard grad and Mayflower descendant who was born in Rochester and raised in Ohio, Lithgow is one of our greatest actors, supremely accomplished on stage, screen, and television, as well as being a bestselling memoirist and children’s book author. Nominated for two Oscars, four Grammys, six Tonys (winning two), and twelve Emmys (taking home six awards), the seventy-one-year-old Lithgow (The World According to Garp, Third Rock from the Sun) has been a warming figure for five decades, a kind of thoughtful everyman who is charming even when he portrays wickedly evil villains. He’s been workshopping Stories by Heart on and off for ten years around the country, a kind of intimate, whistle-stop trunk show that combines personal memories with tour-de-force performances of a pair of classic short stories, one in each act. The format is clear and concise: Lithgow wanders around John Lee Beatty’s erudite, literary set, consisting of just a few chairs, a stool, and a small table in an elegant study, first sharing moving tales about his father, Arthur, a regional theater producer, director, and actor who operated several Shakespeare festivals, and his mother, Sarah, whom John says “was like some cheerful, unflappable road manager who always made everything turn out just fine.” Every night, Arthur would robustly read John and his siblings, David, Robin, and Sarah Jane, a story from the 1939 book Tellers of Tales, which contained one hundred short stories collected by W. Somerset Maugham. Lithgow proudly displays the treasured, beaten up, and humorously repaired copy his father used.

In John Lithgow: Stories by Heart, the master thespian pays tribute to his beloved father (photo by Joan Marcus)

In the first act, Lithgow (The Crown, Sweet Smell of Success) performs, from memory, Ring Lardner’s “Haircut,” as he remembers first picturing it in his head when his father read it to the kids in 1954. In dazzling style, Lithgow mimics every detail of giving a customer a shave and a haircut in a small town while relating the story of Jim Kendall, a troublemaker with a nasty sense of humor. In the second act, Lithgow talks poignantly about trying to take care of his aging father in the summer of 2002, turning the tables when he suddenly decides to offer to read his parents a story, and they chose P. G. Wodehouse’s wildly funny “Uncle Fred Flits By,” which Lithgow then performs onstage, playing every character, from Pongo Twistleton and Wilberforce Robinson to Mr. Walkinshaw and, of course, Uncle Fred. Lithgow is so skillful in telling the tale that, as with “Haircut,” you’ll think you are seeing all of the action happen before your eyes, even though it’s just one man with no props. But as good as each section of the play, expertly directed by Daniel Sullivan, is, and as sweetly captivating as Lithgow is, Stories by Heart does not quite come together as a Broadway production. As a play, it needs more of Lithgow talking about himself, his family, and his love of storytelling and less showing off his impressive acting abilities. Perhaps if I had seen it in Indianapolis, St. Louis, Austin, or Boulder or it ran at an off-Broadway house, I’d have a different reaction. But I found myself far more interested in Lithgow’s personal memories as they related to “Haircut” and “Uncle Fred Flits By” than by those short stories themselves, which take up the vast majority of Lithgow’s time onstage. Early on, Lithgow excitedly says to the audience, “I mean, look at you! You all look so eager and hopeful. What exactly are you hoping for? What do you hope will happen here tonight? What are you looking for? What do you want?” Stories by Heart is a grand and graceful public thank-you to Lithgow’s father, but I have to admit I was looking for something else, although there’s no doubt his father would have loved every second of it.