Most popular New York theater and Broadway shows

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  Ver-sigh. The biggest new musical of the fall arrives on a wave of high hopes, thanks to its promising main assets: music and lyrics by the veteran hitmaker Stephen Schwartz, in his first original Broadway score since Wicked; a starring role for Kristin Chenoweth, one of musical theater’s great leading ladies, as the Florida socialite Jackie Siegel, a walking symbol of American excess; the creative talents of director Michael Arden and set designer Dane Laffrey, who have been on quite a roll; and, in Lauren Greenfield’s 2012 documentary about the Siegel family, a source with rich potential for adaptation. Like the 90,000–square-foot, $100-million palace that the Siegels are determined to build for themselves in Orlando, The Queen of Versailles is nothing if not ambitious. But like that same palace, it also feels misguided and very much still under construction. The Queen of Versailles | Photograph: Julieta Cervantes The underlying problem is that QOV doesn’t have a clear POV. Greenfield’s film is always alert to the grotesque disconnect between the Siegels’ lives of wasteful extravagance and the financial struggles of the employees in their orbit, including the nannies who care for their eight children. It is also a cautionary tale: Midway through the movie, the financial crisis of 2008 pulls the ornate rug out from under the Siegels’ empire and plunges Jackie’s future into uncertainty. What happens to a trophy wife when the shelf...

Theater review by Adam Feldman  Ever since the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical The Phantom of the Opera hung up its mask in 2023, after a record 35-year run on Broadway, the show’s ardent admirers (there are packs of them) have been wishing it were somehow here again. And now it is—with an emphasis on somehow. The revisal of Phantom now playing Off Broadway as Masquerade has been significantly revised to fit a very different form: an immersive experience, à la Sleep No More, in which audiences are led en masque through multiple locations in a midtown complex designed to evoke the 19th-century Paris Opera House where soprano Christine Daaé is tutored and stalked by the facially misshapen serial killer who lives in the basement. The very notion of this reimagining—created by Lloyd Webber and director Diane Paulus, from a concept by Randy Weiner—is surprising; perhaps even more surprising is that, somehow, they pull it off.  Masquerade | Photograph: Courtesy Oscar Ouk The complexity of the enterprise is staggering. Six groups of 60 spectators at a time enter the building at 15-minute intervals; each group gets its own Phantom and Christine, but the other actors repeat their roles multiple times a night. The spectators are guided by the stern ballet mistress Madame Giry through a multitude of discrete playing spaces on floors throughout the complex, including the roof. To help sustain the atmosphere and the sense of event, audience members must wear black, white or silver...

Theater review by Raven SnookIn a moment of gaping political wounds and sores, a high-spirited musical comedy about Barack Obama may sound like a balm. Sadly, the overlong and tonally befuddled 44—written, directed and produced by TV writer Eli Bauman, who campaigned for Obama in Las Vegas as a young man—is often as much of a slog as the partisan idiocy it mocks. Joe Biden (a broad Chad Doreck, milking every possible laugh) intermittently narrates this unsharp satire, which traces the ups and downs of the first Black first family from Obama's inspiring speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention to his second inauguration. As Barack and Michelle, T.J. Wilkins and the mononymous Shanice smartly avoid impersonation and instead raise the spoof with powerhouse pipes, belting the hell out of Bauman's pastiche R&B score. Most of the songs sound so familiar that you can essentially hum along, but a few are bangers; there's a reason "M.F.O." (short for "Mutherfukin' Obama") is reprised so frequently. 44—The Musical | Photograph: Jenny Anderson Considering Obama's enemies were obsessed with his race, perhaps it's fitting that, as a parody, 44 is only skin deep; "How Black Is Too Black?" is about as profound as the show’s questions get. Most of the humor is of the lazily outrageous variety: Obama's nemeses, in cahoots with a cabal called W.H.A.M.—an acronym for White Hetero Affluent Men—include a villainous Mitch McConnell (Larry Cedar, making the most of his rap song), an...

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  Vulnerability comes hard to Ethan (Micah Stock), a blocked gay writer in his 30s. He is a wounded soul, prickly and sour, with a defensive armor forged from serial abandonment: by his mother, who left when he was a child; by his father, a meth addict; and by his aunt, Sarah (Laurie Metcalf), whom he resents for not having done more to help. Sarah is a fortress unto her own: a gristly nurse at the end of her career who has moved to a very small town to be alone. (“Just—suits me better. Not being around—people.”) But when the two wind up sharing a home during the 2020 Covid shutdown, their mutual tenderness grows as they tough it out, filling time and space that otherwise feel emptier than ever.  Little Bear Ridge Road | Photograph: Julieta Cervantes This is the universe of Samuel D. Hunter’s Little Bear Ridge Road, a gorgeous new drama whose touching central relationship coexists with a larger exploration of the intimate and cosmic. Hunter's clear-eyed portraits of pain and grace—including Greater Clements, Grangeville, The Few, The Harvest and The Whale—have consistently brightened Off Broadway seasons for the past 15 years. This production, directed with superb acerbity by Joe Mantello, marks the playwright's overdue Broadway debut, and it doesn’t disappoint. The play is a multifaceted gem, exquisitely shaped and cut, that shines out from the simplest of settings (designed by Scott Pask): a large greige recliner couch, set on a disc...

In his frequent visits to Joe's Pub, writer-composer-performer Ethan Lipton has sometimes shared clever, unassuming musicals that compressed big subjects like space travel and AI into storytelling cabarets. He goes wider in scale—and moves to one of the Public's larger stages—with this musical adaptation of Thornton Wilder's rule-shattering, Pulitzer-winning 1942 allegory The Skin of Our Teeth, which takes a New Jersey family from the Ice Age to the end of the world. (Kander and Ebb tried for years to adapt the same play, without much success.) Lipton's usual director, Leigh Silverman (Suffs), navigates the transhistorical madness with help and ace cast led by Shuler Hensley, Ruthie Ann Miles, Micaela Diamond, Damon Daunno, Amina Faye, Ally Bonino and Andy Grotelueschen.

The accomplished and busy Michael Urie (Shrinking) essays the title role of Shakespeare's lyrical portrait of the last Plantagenet king, a unfortunate weakling who gets sent to the Tower after making an unpopular land deal—thus setting off a splitting of heirs that eventually leads to the War of the Roses, as chronicled in Shakespeare's other history plays). Craig Baldwin directs his own adaptation of the play for Red Bull, the city's gutsiest classical-theater company. The supporting cast includes Grantham Coleman, Ron Canada, Kathryn Meisle, Ryan Spahn, Emily Swallow and Medea: Reversed's Sarin Monae West. 

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  [Note: Jinkx Monsoon plays the role of Mary Todd Lincoln through September 30, joined by new cast members Kumail Nanjiani, Michael Urie and Jenn Harris. Jane Krakowski assumes the central role on October 14.] Cole Escola’s Oh, Mary! is not just funny: It is dizzyingly, breathtakingly funny, the kind of funny that ambushes your body into uncontained laughter. Stage comedies have become an endangered species in recent decades, and when they do pop up they tend to be the kind of funny that evokes smirks, chuckles or wry smiles of recognition. Not so here: I can’t remember the last time I saw a play that made me laugh, helplessly and loudly, as much as Oh, Mary! did—and my reaction was shared by the rest of the audience, which burst into applause at the end of every scene. Fasten your seatbelts: This 80-minute show is a fast and wild joy ride. Escola has earned a cult reputation as a sly comedic genius in their dazzling solo performances (Help! I’m Stuck!) and on TV shows like At Home with Amy Sedaris, Difficult People and Search Party. But Oh, Mary!, their first full-length play, may surprise even longtime fans. In this hilariously anachronistic historical burlesque, Escola plays—who else?—Mary Todd Lincoln, in the weeks leading up to her husband’s assassination. Boozy, vicious and miserable, the unstable and outrageously contrary Mary is oblivious to the Civil War and hell-bent on achieving stardom as—what else?—a cabaret singer.      Oh,...

Rajiv Joseph, whose Guards at the Taj was a memorable exercise in historical gallows humor, takes an irreverent look at the short life of Gavrilo Princip, the teenage Serbian revolutionary whose 1914 assassination of the Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand ignited the Balkan powder keg and triggered the first World War. >Darko Tresnjak (A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder) directs the New York premiere for the Roundabout, with a cast that includes Jake Berne, Adrien Rolet, Jason Sanchez, the invaluable Kristine Nielsen and Broadway's favorite baddie, Patrick Page (Hadestown). 

Broadway review by Adam Feldman A little-known fact about the anarchist firebrand Emma Goldman is that she dabbled in theater criticism. In a series of 1914 lectures, collected in book form as The Social Significance of Modern Drama, she assessed such writers as Ibsen, Strindberg, Chekhov and Shaw through the lens of their revolutionary potential. Modern drama, she opined, “mirrors every phase of life and embraces every strata of society, showing each and all caught in the throes of the tremendous changes going on, and forced either to become part of the process or be left behind.” That is a good description, as it happens, of the 1998 musical Ragtime, which is being revived on Broadway by Lincoln Center Theater in a first-class production directed by Lear deBessonet and anchored by the superb actor-singer Joshua Henry. The show is a vast panorama of American life in the turbulent early years of the 20th century, as illustrated by the intersecting stories of three fictional families—those of a moneyed white businessman, a Jewish immigrant and a successful Black pianist—as well as a clutch of real-life figures from the period, including Goldman herself. It is hard to know what she would make of this grand musical pageant. Perhaps she would admire the production’s epic sweep, stirring score and excellent cast; perhaps she might shudder at the lavish scale of its 28-piece orchestra and even larger ensemble of actors. Either way, this Ragtime is an embarrassment of riches. ...

[Note: The main review below is for the 2022 production of Oratorio for Living Things at Ars Nova. The update is for the show's 2025 encore run at the Signature Theatre.] Update:  I was nervous about revisiting Oratorio for Living Things, Heather Christian's singular and sonorous exploration of existence. What if Signature Theatre Company's remounting of Ars Nova's 2022 sensation didn't match my memories? I needn't have worried: This musical masterwork by the newly minted MacArthur genius is designed for repeated viewings. In sequences of meticulously curated cacophony that give way to glorious, enthralling harmonies, it offers a multitude of wonders and interpretations. You could see it again and again and again and come away with a different understanding at each performance. Aside from a few new singers and musicians, little beyond the venue has changed. A significant portion of the text is in Latin, and librettos are no longer handed out—audiences were absconding with them—so you can no longer follow along. But that's just as well, because Christian's creation demands full engagement. The more you let go of trying to make sense of it all, the more you'll be rewarded as the show grapples with unanswerable questions about how we spend our all-too-short time in the universe. Oratorio for Living Things remains a magnificent use of 90 minutes of that time. Original review:  Heather Christian's divine Oratorio for Living Things welcomes you to worship. To call this...

The Civilians, one of Off Broadway's most consistently searching and original troupes, joins forces with the Vineyard to present a new play written by Anne Washburn and directed by Steve Cosson. This duo's previous collaborations include 2013's mind-blowing Mr. Burns, a Post-Electric Play; this one, set in a self-isolated Northern California community, is tantalizingly described as a story about "a death, a pageant, a rescue, a resurrection, pigs, and the act of saying grace." Casting has not yet been announced.

Susannah Millonzi performs a solo version of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s classic 1892 short story about a woman in the throes of postpartum depression whose madness only deepens when she is imprisoned alone in a shabby room as an ill-advised rest cure. Millonzi created the piece with director by Caitlin Morley; their production, which debuted upstate earlier this fall, now arrives in NYC under the aegis of Bedlam. 

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  Theater, they say, is the fabulous invalid, regaling visitors with tales of past glory as it sinks into its deathbed; conversation, they say, is another dying art. But don’t tell that to Bess Wohl’s Liberation, which has just moved to Broadway, with its exceptional cast intact, after a much-discussed run at the Roundabout earlier this year. A searching and revealing drama about the achievements and limits of 1970s feminism, Liberation weaves different kinds of conversation into a multilayered narrative—and, in doing so, serendipitously restores the very word conversation to its roots. As an adjective or noun, converse denotes opposition or reversal. As a verb, however, it stems from the Latin term conversare, which means “turning together.” In other words: Conversation may involve disagreement—and in Liberation, it often does—but it is not at its core adversarial. It’s literally about sharing a revolution.  Liberation | Photograph: Courtesy Little Fang The revolution in question here is second-wave feminism, the so-called “women’s lib” movement of the 1960s and 1970s that aimed to continue the advances toward sexual equality that had come earlier in the century. The play’s first level of conversation takes place over a period of years in the early 1970s in a smelly high school gym somewhere in the midwest. Lizzie (Susannah Flood)—a budding journalist whose editor won’t let her write anything but wedding announcements and obituaries, which...

Theater review by Raven SnookA modernized, female-forward reinvention of a 200-year-old protofeminist classic may sound like a bonnet on a bonnet. But Emily Breeze's Are the Bennet Girls Ok?, an irreverent riff on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, is a delight. Many of Austen’s plot points are more or less preserved, but the novel’s sense and sensibility are reframed: Using period dress and patriarchal rules but contemporary, profanity-laden dialogue, Breeze’s perceptive version celebrates sisterly, not romantic, love.The play kicks off with a blazing monologue by Mrs. Bennet (a hilariously high-strung Zuzanna Szadkowski), who is desperate to marry off at least some of her five daughters to save the family from financial ruin. The nubile and obedient Jane (Shayvawn Webster) seems like her best bet, but the blunt and headstrong Lizzie (Elyse Steingold) racks up unexpected proposals. Underage flirt Lydia (Caroline Grogan) is the likeliest to get in trouble; sensitive, botany-loving wallflower Mary (standout Masha Breeze, the playwright's sister) and horse girl Kitty (Violeta Picayo) seem like spinsters in waiting. Are the Bennet Girls Ok? | Photograph: Courtesy Ari Espay Though much of the girls’ alternately empathetic and uproarious chatter is sparked by the men in their lives, we encounter those men only rarely. All are played by a single actor, Edoardo Benzoni, who brilliantly delineates each character: four suitors—deer-in-headlights Darcy, awkward Collins, douchey...

The prolific David Cromer directs Talene Monahon's double-barreled satire, which looks at an Armenian-American family in two time periods: struggling to make it in the 1920s and then living in Kardashians-style hyperpublic luxury a century later. The cast of Second Stage's world premiere includes comic legend Andrea Martin, Susan Pourfar,Raffi Barsoumian, Nael Nacer, Tamara Sevunts and the frequent Cromer crony Will Brill (Stereophonic).

An American lobbyist for the oil industry connives to protect his clients from the threat of an international climate-change agreement in Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson's historical drama, set in Japan in 1997. Directed by the team of Stephen Daldry and Justin Martin—who also helmed the Joes' The Jungle (as well as Stranger Things: The First Shadow)—the play was a hit in Stratford-on-Avon in 2024 and in the West End earlier this year. New York stage pillar Stephen Kunken reprises his lead performance in Lincoln Center Theater's importation of that production for its U.S. premiere.

Review by Adam Feldman  The low-key dazzling Speakeasy Magick has been nestled in the atmospheric McKittrick Hotel for more than a year, and now it has moved up to the Lodge: a small wood-framed room at Gallow Green, which functions as a rooftop bar in the summer. The show’s dark and noisy new digs suit it well. Hosted by Todd Robbins (Play Dead), who specializes in mild carnival-sideshow shocks, Speakeasy Magick is a moveable feast of legerdemain; audience members, seated at seven tables, are visited by a series of performers in turn. Robbins describes this as “magic speed dating.” One might also think of it as tricking: an illusion of intimacy, a satisfying climax, and off they go into the night. The evening is punctuated with brief performances on a makeshift stage. When I attended, the hearty Matthew Holtzclaw kicked things off with sleight of hand involving cigarettes and booze; later, the delicate-featured Alex Boyce pulled doves from thin air. But it’s the highly skilled close-up magic that really leaves you gasping with wonder. Holtzclaw’s table act comes to fruition with a highly effective variation on the classic cups-and-balls routine; the elegant, Singapore-born Prakash and the dauntingly tattooed Mark Calabrese—a razor of a card sharp—both find clever ways to integrate cell phones into their acts. Each performer has a tight 10-minute act, and most of them are excellent, but that’s the nice thing about the way the show is structured: If one of them happens to...

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  But is it art? That is the question, familiar to students of 20th-century aesthetics, that hangs at the center of the French playwright Yasmina Reza’s 1994 comedy of manners and men. Serge (Neil Patrick Harris) has paid a fortune for a large painting, by a celebrated artist named Antrios, that is almost totally white. His old friend Marc (Bobby Cannavale) is outraged by this purchase, which he considers a grave insult to common sense and, by extension, to his own good influence. Their perpetually flustered common pal Yvan (James Corden), caught in the middle, tries in vain to accommodate them both while retaining their love, as though mommy and daddy were getting a divorce.  Even in 1998, when Art debuted on Broadway, this framework was more than a little passé, rehearsing arguments about modern art that probably peaked around 1965. In the play’s current Broadway mounting, directed by Scott Ellis, those discussions seem even quainter—and all but irrelevant to the seismic gaps that have opened up in recent years. This iteration is ostensibly set in the U.S., so the francs of the original have been exchanged for dollars, but the names and the overall sensibility remain quite French (with a twist of British via Christopher Hampton’s translation). If you squint very hard, you may make out faint suggestions of contemporary American resonance—in Marc’s blustering contempt for elite tastes, for example, or Serge’s dismissal of him as a “nostalgia...

The pent-up, mixed-up, horned-up 1950s teen culture that was sent up in the 1970s musical Grease gets updated and upended in a modern-day reimagining of the show's characters and themes. The script is by Catie Hogan, with contributions from five other writers as well as lyricists Billy Recce (Singfeld) and Danny Salles; Jack Plotnick (Girls Will Be Girls) directs a cast of eight.   TIME OUT DISCOUNT TICKET OFFER: VAPE! THE GREASE PARODYAn unhinged new musical Save 35%!Tickets $45–$55 (regular price $66–$87) Promotional description: Vape! The Grease Parody is a hilariously unhinged spoof of the iconic and timeless musical Grease. The show pokes loving fun at all the wonderful moments, sexual innuendos, outrageous characters, rivalries and secret romances from the original. The hair products may have changed, but the drama, the rivalries and the thirst for hallway clout remain timeless. It's the musical you know and love…but dragged through a cloud of strawberry-scented vapor and a TikTok filter. It's the show that you want! (Ooh! Ooh! Ooh, honey!) TWO WAYS TO BUY  TICKETS:1. Through the ticketing site: Click here to buy tickets2. Through the show site: Visit VapeTheMusical.com and enter code: TEENANGEL *Subject to Availability. Discount only applies to select tickets only. Other restrictions may apply. Not applicable to previously purchased tickets. Offer may be discontinued at any time.

An actor drinks heavily (in the vein of Comedy Central's Drunk History) and then tries to corral others into enacting a story by the Bard. Bibulous excess is encouraged.     TIME OUT DISCOUNT TICKET OFFER: DRUNK SHAKESPEARE The hit theatrical comedy in the heart of Broadway  $35 for balcony tickets (regular price $55)$49 for mezzanine tickets (regular price $69)$69 for stage-side tickets (regular price $89) Promotional description: The stage is set at the Lounge, a hidden library in Times Square featuring craft cocktails and more 15,000 real books. Five professional New York actors meet as members of the Drunk Shakespeare Society. One of them has at least five shots of whiskey, then overconfidently attempts to perform a major role in a Shakespearean play. Hilarity and mayhem ensue as the four sober actors try to keep the script on track. Every show is different depending on who is drinking…and what they're drinking! Each performance requires royalty. Learn more about the exclusive Royal Experience. TO BUY TICKETS: Click here to buy tickets Performance schedule currently varies. Click on ticket link for schedule. Running Time: 1hr 30mins. No intermission. 21 or over only. Photo ID and proof of vaccination required. Not all seats discounted. Discount code valid for stage-side, mezzanine and balcony seats only. All purchases with credit/debit, including online and phone orders, will incur a $4 processing fee. Blackout dates may apply. Schedule and cast subject to change....

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  In the 1989 movie Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter played a pair of dim teenage rockers who traveled through centuries and around the world and even—in the film’s 1991 sequel, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey—beyond this mortal coil. So there’s a satisfying snap to the joke of casting them, in Jamie Lloyd’s revival of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, as the long-suffering tramps Estragon and Vladimir, two of the most immobile characters in world drama. Eternally, it seems, they await a mystery man who never appears, and yet they never learn; they are locked in a cycle of forgetting and resetting. “Well, shall we go?” says Reeves’s Estragon. “Yes, let’s go,” replies Winter’s Vladimir. But Beckett’s famous stage direction keeps them in their place: “They do not move.”  This casting is more than just a stunt, though; the nostalgic affection that the audience holds for Reeves and Winter has certain salutary effects. “Together again at last! We have to celebrate this,” says Vladimir at the top of the play; the audience is there for the reunion party, and it arrives with the gift of a prior sense of these two men as friends. When they mention having known each other “a million years ago, in the nineties,” the line hits differently than it did when the play made its Broadway debut in 1956; when they embrace, it has an extra level of sweetness. They have history with each other, and with us.  Waiting for Godot |...

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  First things first: Just in Time is a helluva good time at the theater. It’s not just that, but that’s the baseline. Staged in a dazzling rush by Alex Timbers, the show summons the spirit of a 1960s concert at the Copacabana by the pop crooner Bobby Darin—as reincarnated by one of Broadway’s most winsome leading men, the radiant sweetie Jonathan Groff, who gives the performance his considerable all. You laugh, you smile, your heart breaks a little, you swing along with the brassy band, and you’re so well diverted and amused that you may not even notice when the ride you’re on takes a few unconventional turns.   Unlike most other jukebox-musical sources, Darin doesn’t come with a long catalogue of signature hits. If you know his work, it’s probably from four songs he released in 1958 and 1959: the novelty soap bubble “Splish Splash,” the doo-wop bop “Dream Lover” and two European cabaret songs translated into English, “Beyond the Sea” and “Mack the Knife.”  What he does have is a tragically foreshortened life. “Bobby wanted nothing more than to entertain, wherever he could, however he could, in whatever time he had, which it turns out was very little,” Groff tells us at the top of the show. “He died at 37.” Darin’s bum heart—so weak that doctors thought he wouldn’t survive his teens—is the musical’s countdown clock; it beats like a ticking time bomb.  Just in Time | Photograph: Courtesy Matthew Murphy Warren Leight and Isaac Oliver’s agile...

Dan White is something of a local sensation and a regular guest on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show, and it's not hard to see why. His show, which sells out weeks in advance, is an ideal fancy-date night. Handsome and smooth, White offers modern variations on classic routines, blending multiple kinds of magic (mentalism, card tricks, illusionism) into an admirably variegated evening of entertainment. If a few of the effects don't fit the intimacy of the room—when I saw the show in its previous incarnation at the Nomad Hotel, a transformation illusion didn't quite come off—most of the tricks leave you happily agape, especially when performed in such cosy quarters. You'll probably never see a levitation act at such close range, and you may leave feeling a few feet off the ground yourself.

Hollywood sweetheart Tom Hanks plays a time-traveling scientist—whose search for true love keeps bringing him back to the same day at the 1939 World's Fair in Queens—in a new play that Hanks has adapted with James Glossman from his own short stories. Kenny Leon (Our Town) directs the Off Broadway premiere at the Shed; the cast of 11 includes Kelli O'Hara, Ruben Santiago-Hudson, Michelle Wilson and the ever-excellent Jay O. Sanders.

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  Oliver (Darren Criss) is a Helperbot, and he can’t help himself. A shut-in at his residence for retired androids in a near-future Korea, he functions in a chipper loop of programmatic behavior; every day, he brushes his teeth and eyes, tends to his plant and listens to the retro jazz favored by his former owner, James (Marcus Choi), who he is confident will someday arrive to take him back. More than a decade goes by before his solitary routine is disrupted by Claire (Helen J Shen), a fellow Helperbot from across the hall, who is looking to literally connect and recharge. Will these two droids somehow make a Seoul connection? Can they feel their hearts beep? That is the premise of Will Aronson and Hue Park’s new musical Maybe Happy Ending, and it’s a risky one. The notion of robots discovering love—in a world where nothing lasts forever, including their own obsolescent technologies—could easily fall into preciousness or tweedom. Instead, it is utterly enchanting. As staged by Michael Arden (Parade), Maybe Happy Ending is an adorable and bittersweet exploration of what it is to be human, cleverly channeled through characters who are only just learning what that entails. Maybe Happy Ending | Photograph: Courtesy Evan Zimmerman In a Broadway landscape dominated by loud adaptations of pre-existing IP, Maybe Happy Ending stands out for both its intimacy and its originality. Arden and his actors approach the material with a delicate touch; they...