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      Review: Tammy Faye Was Over-the-Top. This Musical Makes Her Small.

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      “Tammy Faye,” a bland, tonal mishmash of a show opening on Broadway, seems afraid to lean into what made the televangelist so distinctive.“Tammy Faye,” the new Broadway musical about the televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker, kicks off with a projection of a set of eyes in close-up, mascara running down in a dramatic streak.It’s a visually arresting reference to the real-life Bakker, whose electrifyingly made-up eyes, encased in clumped lashes, gave her a look of perpetually startled innocence. Not for nothing, there have been two films titled “The Eyes of Tammy Faye” — a documentary narrated by RuPaul in 2000 and a 2021 feature for which Jessica Chastain won an Academy Award for best actress. Together, they represent what Tammy Faye, who died in 2007, is now famous for: camp iconification and performance of the self.But after that teasing introduction, Tammy Faye’s signature Kabuki facade barely figures in the disjointed, strangely bland musical that opened on Thursday at the newly renovated Palace Theater. It is laudable that the show’s composer, Elton John; lyricist, Jake Shears (of Scissor Sisters); book writer, James Graham; and director, Rupert Goold, tried to go behind the mask of this complicated, outsize woman, whose public persona was shaped by and for television. The problem is that they ended up making her smaller than life.Brayben won an Olivier Award for her performance in the original production in London.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe show, which originated two years ago at the Almeida Theater in London, is a straightforward look at the rise and fall of Tammy Faye (Katie Brayben, who won an Olivier Award for her performance in the original production). The climb begins when she encounters Jim Bakker (Christian Borle, leaning hard on his comic skills) in the 1960s. The couple share a sunny vision of proselytizing Christianity, delivering their message through playful puppets rather than fiery sermons. We follow them as they take to the airwaves and pioneer the use of television to spread the gospel and raise a lot of cash. By the 1970s, they have their own satellite network, PTL, on which they host a popular program.And then the wheels fall off the wagon, as the Bakkers are swayed by money, sex and, in Tammy Faye’s case, pills.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      ‘King Lear’ Review: Kenneth Branagh’s Latest Finds the Wrong Tone

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      Kenneth Branagh’s production of the Shakespeare classic speeds through the material and can’t quite figure out its tone.Kenneth Branagh’s “King Lear,” which opened Thursday night at the Shed, is a tragedy that doesn’t seem to know why it’s so tragic. The production’s fleet and feathery interpretation of how one man’s decline rains down misfortune on everyone around him undercuts the gravity of the classic, demoting it into a mere trifle.The play, as many may recall from high school English classes, opens with Lear (Branagh) offering to split his kingdom among his three daughters according to who will flatter him the most. While his two older daughters, Goneril (Deborah Alli) and Regan (Saffron Coomber), comply, his favorite, Cordelia (Jessica Revell), refuses. Lear casts her off with nothing to her name. But the king, accompanied by his jester (also Revell) and a loyal disciple in disguise (Eleanor de Rohan), is eventually driven to madness as he receives what he sees as disloyal treatment at the hands of his sycophantic daughters. Meanwhile, Goneril and Regan scheme against each other for power and for the hand of Edmund (Dylan Corbett-Bader), a wily creep willing to betray his own family for his advancement. Perhaps needless to say, most of these characters are dead by the final scene.Each new production of “Lear” offers its own take on whether the play’s tragedy branches from the titular royal’s psychosis, dementia or a broken ego. In Branagh’s production — he is a co-director with Rob Ashford and Lucy Skillbeck — the king doesn’t come across as feeble in any way. In fact, he’s fit as a fiddle. This Lear hops, crawls and gambols across the stage, even running off into the audience stands at the Griffin theater, meant to stand in for England in the New Stone Age. And despite Branagh’s cartoonish wails and babbles, this production never seems to believe Lear is ever truly ensnared by madness; there’s still a mild sense of cogency to Branagh’s performance throughout that colors him more as a wacky dad with hurt feelings than as a weakened ruler.The show’s breakneck pacing, too, makes it sometimes read more like a light comedy. All considerable five acts are indelicately stuffed into a speedy two hours, without intermission. Though I don’t begrudge a shorter “Lear” — the lengthy play does often meander its way to its protagonist’s demise — this production bolts mercilessly through the dialogue with a cadence that doesn’t allow much space for nuanced emoting, silences or scene transitions to let the story’s depths sink in.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      ‘Strategic Love Play’ Review: A Slightly Dark, Not-Quite-Romantic Comedy

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      In this first-date comedy, Michael Zegen and Heléne Yorke play people who might just be willing to settle for each other.There comes a time in some adults’ dating lives when the search for love slides down the priority list, and with it the pesky urge to be particular about who might qualify as life-partner material.What’s far more vital, suddenly, is simply to couple up — less as a bulwark against the world than as a defense against the paired-off friends who fret about your singleness. So what if you and your new plus-one aren’t besotted with each other? At least you’re not alone.This is where Jenny (Heléne Yorke) and Adam (Michael Zegen) find themselves in “Strategic Love Play,” Miriam Battye’s slightly dark, not-quite-romantic comedy at the Minetta Lane Theater in Greenwich Village. Directed by Katie Posner for Audible Theater and Chase This Productions, it unfolds over the course of a single rocky date.For both Jenny and Adam, who evidently matched on an app, the prospect of having a default person to stand with the next time they go to a barbecue is a potently soothing thought. Which is maybe why they persevere through this awkward first encounter in a charmingly lit bar, where sconces hang on the bare brick walls. (The set is by Arnulfo Maldonado, lighting by Jen Schriever.)Reserved and wary of Jenny’s big personality, Adam wants to bolt pretty much immediately, while Jenny is the kind of person who reacts to silence by trying to rile things up, get a reaction, be outrageous. From his rigid posture, his lack of interest is clear, but she is all about leaning in.“Two-drink minimum,” she stipulates, meaning he’d better not leave before then. “Anything less would be — rather unmerciful.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      Timothy West, Who Portrayed Kings and Prime Ministers, Dies at 90

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      Timothy West, a versatile actor who portrayed a parade of historical and classical figures onstage and onscreen, and in between became a household name in Britain as a sitcom and soap opera regular, died on Tuesday in London. He was 90.His death was announced by his family on social media. They did not specify where he died but thanked the staffs at a London care home and a hospital for “their loving care” during Mr. West’s final days.With arched brows, narrow eyes and a strong jaw, Mr. West brought a commanding presence to historical figures like Winston Churchill, Joseph Stalin and King Edward VII, and to notables of classic theater like King Lear, Macbeth and Willy Loman.He was perhaps best known to American audiences for his performances in British television imports: the mini-series “Edward the King,” the movie “Churchill and the Generals” and the acclaimed mini-series “Bleak House,” an adaptation of the Charles Dickens novel that was shown on PBS’s “Masterpiece Theater” in 2005.Mr. West, kneeling, in 1970 in “Edward II” with Ian McKellen. He was known to bring a commanding presence to historical figures.AlamyMr. West, left, with Ian Richardson in the BBC drama “Churchill and the Generals.” It was the first of his three career portrayals of the British prime minister.RGR Collection/Alamy Stock PhotoAlthough Mr. West was a staple of British television, had dabbled in radio drama and had several small film roles, his lifelong passion was the theater.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      Big Apple Circus Review: A City Tour, Pizza Rats Included

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      The third poodle wouldn’t join the conga line. Its fluffy co-stars pranced on their hind legs, while the third one scampered from side to side, reluctant to keep the rhythm. The poodle’s trainer coaxed and gently urged. But sometimes a dog just doesn’t want to dance.This was at the Big Apple Circus, the annual, genial extravaganza that sets up its big-top shop in a corner of the Lincoln Center Plaza. The opening performance was on the Saturday after Election Day, the tent lit in nonpartisan red and blue. The city still felt unsettled and even here the vibes were arguably off — acrobats stumbled, jugglers dropped batons, a unicycle rider lasted barely a second on the pedals.Vibes aside, a circus is still a circus. And a circus, however wobbly, is still a joy. There are buckets of popcorn to eat, light-up toys to wave, clowns to cheer. If this year’s acts are not exactly death defying, some of us have enough to worry about these days and may welcome the presence of a net, a mat. A soft place to land, spangles for days and nachos covered in Day-Glo orange cheese, that’s escapism enough.Rafael Abuhadba and one of his poodles at the circus. Michelle V. Agins/The New York TimesThe circus’s theme this year is Hometown Playground. Whether the two-dozen or so performers and musicians actually call New York home is left unaddressed, but several of them are costumed as pizza rats (well, two pizza rats, one gamine pizza mouse), which is perhaps the next best thing.In a relatively brisk two hours, the show, which does without a ring master or mistress, visits a few tourist sites — Central Park, Coney Island, Harlem. Other acts are given vague tie-ins to the five boroughs. An acrobat performs an upside-down routine dressed as a construction worker. (Upside-down they don’t cat call.) He is followed by a trio on the Russian swing apparatus, also dressed as construction workers, which suggests certain imaginative limits. The poodles, all shelter rescues, arrive in a checkered cab. A couple of them are dressed as Ziegfeld girls.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      ‘Maybe Happy Ending’ Review: Darren Criss and Helen J Shen Are Robots in Love

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      A supersmart musical about making a connection arrives on Broadway in a joyful, heartbreaking, cutting-edge production.Claire is low on energy, so she pops across the hall to Oliver’s pad for a pick-me-up. But Oliver, a creature of routine, doesn’t like being interrupted while listening to jazz and waiting for mail. She insists, he gives in, and a spark, maybe a literal one, is ignited.Never was a meet cute as cute — and as quietly ominous — as it is in the musical “Maybe Happy Ending,” which opened Tuesday at the Belasco Theater. That’s because the pair are robots, and Claire’s battery is running down fast. Hooking her up to his charger may signal, for Oliver, the beginning of love. It may also signal the end of it.That we nonrobots also connect, pair and empower one another to share a too-brief lifetime is the surprising double vision that makes “Maybe Happy Ending” a ravishing addition to the catalog of Broadway nerdicals. The term is high praise, honoring supersmart, usually small-scale shows — like “Fun Home,” “The Band’s Visit” and “Kimberly Akimbo” — that nevertheless have big emotional impact. This one, directed with breathtaking bravura by Michael Arden, gets bonus points for difficulty, too: Under cover of sci-fi whimsy, it sneaks in a totally original human heartbreaker.The sci-fi elements are handled lightly and humorously in the book by Hue Park and Will Aronson, thus dodging the invidious scrutiny that the genre often elicits. By 2064, when their story takes place, Helperbots — android servants like embodied Siris — have been assisting humans with daily tasks for decades. But Oliver (Darren Criss) and Claire (Helen J Shen) are now obsolete, living out their days in a pleasant retirement home in Seoul as their operating systems antiquate and replacement parts become scarce.Still, they remain fully sentient and distinct. Oliver, an early model Helperbot 3, is more stylized and herky-jerky than Claire, a later model Helperbot 5. His lips are pursed, his feet splayed, his language not quite natural (he can’t stop saying “thank you”) and his hair a hard helmet like a Playmobil figurine’s. Even so, he spent enough years with his former owner, James Choi, to have absorbed some human analog tastes — the jazz LPs especially — and to miss him fiercely. Surely Choi (Marcus Choi, excellent) will reclaim him one day.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      ‘The Vegetarian’ Review: Putting a Nobel Prize Winner’s Work Onstage

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      After Han Kang won the Prize in Literature last month, a stage version of her novel “The Vegetarian” sold out its run at a struggling Paris theater.Other Paris theaters may be a little envious of the Odéon this fall. In a stroke of good luck, long before the Nobel committee met to decide its 2024 honorees, the playhouse had scheduled a new stage adaptation of a work by Han Kang, the South Korean novelist and surprise winner of this year’s Prize in Literature.Now, Parisians are flocking en masse to “La Vegetariana,” an Italian-language version of Han’s “The Vegetarian,” directed by Daria Deflorian. The sold out run, through Nov. 16 at the Ateliers Berthier, the Odéon’s second stage, is a welcome opportunity to dive into Han’s surreal style, by way of a thoughtful, if at times muted, production.“La Vegetariana” is tightly focused on the novel’s central characters. Yeong-hye, whose sudden conversion to vegetarianism bewilders everyone around her, is watched closely by her nameless husband, sister and brother-in-law. In the novel, each of the three narrates a section. Here, too, they introduce Yeong-hye and comment on her directly to the audience in long monologues.In that sense, Deflorian, who coadapted the novel with Francesca Marciano and also appears in the role of the sister, treats the source material with reverence. Onstage, Yeong-hye remains an enigmatic figure, speaking as little as she does on the page. Initially afraid of meat, she later stops eating altogether. She requires no food, she says at one point, because she believes she is morphing into a tree.Unfortunately, without directorial intervention, an impenetrable heroine can also make for dull theater. As Yeong-hye, Monica Piseddu wanders the near-empty stage like a sleepwalker, dressed in an oversize T-shirt. While each scene is announced through projections with the abruptness of a movie script (“Couple’s House. Inside at Night.”), the shadowy lighting traps the characters in a kind of perpetual twilight, with gray walls as their cheerless background.Deflorian, left, in the role of the unnamed sister of Yeong-hye, played by Monica Piseddu.Andrea PizzalisWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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      ‘A Wonderful World’ Review: Blowing Louis Armstrong’s Horn Isn’t Enough

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      The great jazz trumpeter and sandpaper vocalist gets the old jukebox treatment in a new Broadway musical starring James Monroe Iglehart.Who, having lived through 20th-century pop culture, could fail to recognize that voice like a truck without a muffler? That piercing trumpet and embracing spirit?Who could fail to recognize Louis Armstrong?Yet he is something of a blur in “A Wonderful World,” the Armstrong jukebox musical that opened Monday at Studio 54. Not for lack of a precise embodiment. In the leading role, James Monroe Iglehart has every Satchmo detail perfectly tuned: the rumble, the chortle, the hankie, the beam, the satchel-like cheeks that inspired the nickname. If drama were merely a tribute concert, there would be nothing to complain of.But with such a major figure we want something deeper. And though subtitled “The Louis Armstrong Musical,” the show, with a book by Aurin Squire, spends too little time exploring its subject’s interior life while plumping for his greatness as if the point were in doubt. The score, drawn from songs he performed but (with two exceptions) did not write, makes the case irrefutably already, encompassing the astonishing range of a man who grew up with the blues, changed the course of jazz, excelled at swing, perfected scat and won a Grammy for “Hello, Dolly!”To balance such a rich and varied artistic life, let alone a chaotic personal one, Armstrong deserves more than the standard jukebox bullet-point biography he gets here. Offering little you would not learn from a good obituary, or from a visit to the terrific museum at his home in Queens, “A Wonderful World” compresses 60 years, from youth to death and even beyond, into four discrete chapters defined cleverly but overneatly by decade, locale and wife.The 1910s segment, set in Armstrong’s native New Orleans, introduces wife No. 1, Daisy Parker (Dionne Figgins), a prostitute with a “Kiss of Fire.” After leaving her to join the jazz scene of Chicago in the 1920s, he falls for the pianist and arranger Lil Hardin (Jennie Harney-Fleming), who polishes his musicianship along with his wardrobe. Nevertheless, he leaves her too; she and Daisy bring down the first act with a furious medley of “Some of These Days” and “After You’ve Gone.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More