Ohio LIght Opera 2025

By Harry Forbes

Where else but at the Ohio Light Opera in Wooster could you find such a wonderfully varied season of musicals and operetta, mixing popular classics with seldom-seen gems?

This year, the former category featured two of Broadway’s all-time greats — Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel and Lerner and Loewe’s Brigadoon — alongside Gilbert & Sullivan’s Patience. In the latter, audiences were treated to Noël Coward’s 1929 operetta Bitter Sweet (arguably his finest work for the musical stage), George and Ira Gershwin’s 1925 Tip-Toes, and German composer Eduard Künneke’s 1921 The Cousin from Batavia (Der Vetter aus Dingsda).

For me, those last three titles were the true treasures of the season. Still, Carousel and Brigadoon, familiar though they may be, were performed with such freshness and polish that they proved just as rewarding. In fact, I found Carousel more satisfying than its last Broadway revival. OLO’s productions are notable not only for their fine casts and tasteful production values, but also for their fidelity to the originals, nearly note-complete, and free of extraneous “updates.” The result is deeply satisfying theater.

As for the company, many new faces appeared this season, yet they blended seamlessly with returning veterans, adapting remarkably from one production to the next.

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Bitter Sweet

Seldom performed in America today — though I do recall a misjudged Bard College staging in 2011 — Coward’s hit-filled score was a genuine treat, particularly with such strong leads. Jenna Justice was perfection as well-born Sarah, who elopes with her Austrian music teacher Carl (pure-voiced Adam Griffiths) on the eve of her arranged wedding.

Justice and Griffiths gave radiant renditions of Coward’s once-famous songs, including “I’ll See You Again,” “Dear Little Café,” and “Zigeuner.” In the Vienna scenes, Caroline Hawthorne was splendid as Carl’s former mistress Manon, earning bravas for her superb “If Love Were All.”

Lovingly conducted by OLO Music Director Michael Borowitz and elegantly staged by Artistic Director Steven Daigle, the production was choreographed — like all this season’s shows — by Spencer Reese, whose period-perfect steps never disappoint.

Justice’s transformation from elderly Lady Shayne in the prologue to impetuous young lover, then seasoned performer, was beautifully charted. I only wished Griffiths had attempted a Viennese accent, though consistency across the cast might then have been required.

Though a few trims were evident in the substantial score — perhaps reflecting the licensed edition — the performance was nearly complete, allowing rarer numbers to shine.

Jenna Grissom Amia Korman, Rachel Weinfeld, and Kate Bilenko had fun as the exuberant “Ladies of the Town” in the Café scene. And Coward’s sly paean to the aesthetes of the 1890s, “Green Carnations,” was wittily delivered by Noah Sickman, Asher Ramaly, Niko Theriault, and Spencer Wilde.

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Patience

In Gilbert and Sullivan’s very funny sendup of the aesthetic movement, Spencer Reese (with flowing locks) and the deft Thomas Valenti made a wonderfully contrasted Grosvenor and Bunthorne. Their Act II duet, “When I Go Out of Door,” was so dazzling it was deservedly encored. Both men wrung every drop of humor from Gilbert’s witty text.

The ever-versatile Maggie Langhorne, a standout in all her roles this season, was a superb Lady Jane, blending comic pathos and musicality in “Silvered Is the Raven Hair” and marvelous in her duet with Bunthorne, “So Go to Him.”

Julia Wright Costa’s direction brought sparkle, with strong-voiced Jordan Knapick piquant in the title role. Niko Theriault (Colonel Calverley), Jacob Allen (Major Murgatroyd), and Adam Griffiths (Duke of Dunstable) nailed their jolly ensemble numbers, including “If Saphir I Choose to Marry,” joined delightfully by Camryn Finn (Saphir) and Amia Korman (Angela).

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The Cousin from Batavia (Der Vetter aus Dingsda)

Edward Künneke’s “Der Vetter aus Dingsda” (“The Cousin from Nowhere”), was a hit when it premiered in 1921 and has maintained its popularity in Europe. OLO mounted the show in 2000, it was such a hit, OLO brought it back two years later. Here it was again in the same fine translation by the late Richard Traubner. 

Jenna Justice and Adam Griffiths, in roles far removed from Bitter Sweet, impressed again as, respectively, Julia — hopelessly devoted to a remembered childhood sweetheart she hasn’t seen in years — and the “stranger” who mischievously impersonates him. Maggie Langhorne again charmed as Julia’s friend Hanna. Jack Murphy got laughs as Julia’s ever-persistent suitor.

Justice captivated with her first-act moon song, and Griffiths dazzled in the stranger’s “I’m Only a Wandering Minstrel,” topped with thrilling high notes.

Directed by Spencer Reese — with just a touch too much slapstick, including an extraneous food fight for Julia’s uncle and aunt (Niko Thereiault and Caroline Hawthorne)— the show was idiomatic and stylish. OLO Associate Music Director Wilson Southerland conducted with verve.

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Tip-Toes

The Gershwins’ 1925 confection sparkled, filled with delights such as “Looking for a Boy,” “These Charming People,” “That Certain Feeling,” “It’s a Great Little World,” and “Sweet and Low-Down.”

The unique staging featured pianos on either side of the stage, evoking the original Victor Arden–Phil Ohman duo, with Michael Borowitz leading a sprightly performance. Jacob Allen, OLO’s Associate Artistic Director, directed with flair.

The plot follows three vaudevillians — the titular Tip-Toes (Kate Bilenko), her brother Al (Noah Sickman), and uncle Hen (Jack Murphy) — hired for a Palm Beach party. When their gig is canceled, they hatch a scheme to pass Tip-Toes off as an upper-crust lady in hopes of securing her a wealthy husband.

The songs were winning throughout, though the relentless shtick between Al and Hen, with their corny vaudeville gags, wore thin after a while despite Sickman and Murphy’s best efforts.

Bilenko created an adorable heroine and she was, as ever, a delightful triple threat, and a fabulous dancer in particular. Maggie Langhorne played Florida matron Sylvia (a role originated by Jeanette MacDonald), Timothy McGowan was her philandering husband Rollo, and Spencer Reese played Sylvia’s brother Steve who falls for Tip-Toes, allowing Reese and Bilenko another chance to dance together — as in last year’s Me and My Girl — and once again, magic happened.

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Brigadoon

OLO’s Brigadoon (its first since 2015) was another triumph, especially with all the restored dance sequences, superbly choreographed by Reese.

Rachel Wresh was a tender Fiona opposite Jack Murphy’s Tommy (both sang beautifully), with Reese this time as Jeff, the cynical buddy. Wilson Southerland drew rich sound from the orchestra.

Timothy McGowan was Charlie, singing “I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean” and “Come to Me, Bend to Me” with requisite sweetness. Maggie Langhorne was the lusty Meg, socking out her bawdy comic numbers “My Mother’s Wedding Day” and “The Love of My Life” with highland aplomb. Thomas Valenti, so comically incisive in “Patience” transformed into the wise schoolmaster Mr. Lundie. Supporting roles were ably taken by Niko Theriault (Archie Beaton), Spencer Wilde (Harry Beaton), Safin Karim (Sandy Dean), and Camryn Finn (Jean MacLaren). Kate Bilenko's dancing during the solemn events of the second act was again first-rate. 

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Carousel

Hearing the full score — including the copious dance music — was sheer pleasure. Spencer Reese contributed fresh choreography, highlighted by the superb Kate Bilenko’s moving Act II ballet as the troubled  daughter Louise.

Nathaniel Richard, who played Sarah’s stuffy fiancé in Bitter Sweet, made a compelling Billy Bigelow, delivering a powerful “Soliloquy” and "The Highest Judge of All." Amia Korman’s Julie Jordan was beautifully sung and thoughtfully acted, portraying her as a young woman shaped by an unhappy childhood.

Yumeko Stern was a standout as Carrie Pipperidge, her comic sparkle recalling Audra McDonald’s star-making turn in the 1994 Broadway revival.

Director Steven Daigle staged the whole with great sensitivity and a keen sense of drama. Traditional in all respects, his stagng included a unique addition: Billy’s heavenly overseer, traditionally a solitary Starkeeper, was here augmented by two “heavenly friends” (Jack Murphy and Spencer Reese) who shadowed the action throughout. Some found the device puzzling, but I thought it sensibly underscored the connection between the characters' early actions and the celestial events to come.

Jenna Grissom delivered a stirring “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” Strong contributions also came from Jeron Robinson (Jigger), Timothy McGowan (Enoch Snow), and Meggie Vincent (Mrs. Mullin). In a change of gender, Stella Vodilko played the Starkeeper.

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103 and Still Kicking

To complement the many 1920s works this season, OLO presented a delightful morning concert of songs from that decade, performed by company members with Wilson Southerland at the piano.

Narrated with wit and erudition by OLO Board Chairman Michael Miller (who conceived the program with Steven Daigle), the concert showcased the era’s extraordinary richness, from Victor Herbert and Jerome Kern to Irving Berlin and Emmerich Kálmán.

The 14 numbers culminated in Harry Tierney’s “Journey’s End” from Up She Goes, sung in glorious unison by the entire cast. Performers included Camryn Finn, Leah Finn, Safin Karim, Helen Knudsen, Owen Malone, Timothy McGowan, James Moorehead, Arianna Paz, Asher Ramaly, Nathaniel Richard, Yumeko Stern, and Rachel Weinfeld, each shining in their respective solos and duets.

Selections also included rarities from Louis Hirsch’s The O’Brien Girl, Jean Gilbert’s The Lady in Ermine, Armand Vecsey’s The Hotel Mouse, and James Hanley’s Spice of 1922.

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Operetta Mania

Another special treat was Michael Miller’s wide-ranging operetta and musical theater clip compilation, which sampled everything from Allegro, Jubilee, Fifty Million Frenchmen, and Lola Montez to operettas such as Là-Haut, Chilpéric, Boccaccio, and Gigantes y Cabezudos — a veritable international tour.

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Under Executive Director Laura Neill and Artistic Director Steven Daigle, Ohio Light Opera remains an incomparable destination for lovers of musical theater and operetta.

(The Ohio Light Opera, The College of Wooster, 1189 Beall Avenue, Wooster, OH; 330-263-2345 or ohiolightopera.org; through August 3)

Photos: Matt Dilyard

Top: “Tip-Toes” company

Below: Jenna Justice, Adam Griffiths, “Bitter Sweet”

Thomas Valenti & company, “Patience”

Maggie Langhorne, Wesley Diener, “The Cousin from Batavia”

Spencer Reese, Kate Bilenko, Connor Burns, “Tip-Toes”

Rachel Wresh, Jack Murphy, “Brigadoon”

Amia Korman, Nathaniel Richard, “Carousel”

Angry Alan (Studio Seaview)

By Harry Forbes

It’s a treat to watch John Krasinski deliver such a bravura performance in Penelope Skinner’s (mostly) one-man show about Roger, a disaffected former executive whose life has come unglued. He lost his high-ranking job at AT&T (a sore point he won’t let go), his wife left him, he’s estranged from his son, and he’s barely holding on to his current relationship.

Enter Angry Alan, an internet men’s rights guru whose inflammatory, self-proclaimed “manosphere” message proclaims that most men are good and have been unfairly diminished by the so-called gynocracy. Roger is captivated. Alan’s views—logical and irrefutably correct in Roger’s eyes—feel like a mirror to his own. Enthusiastically, he shares Alan’s videos with anyone who will listen.

Krasinski makes Roger’s good-natured, humorous persona so charming that Alan’s increasingly toxic ideology goes down disturbingly easy. Roger comes off as a laid-back, likable guy, which makes his descent all the more unsettling.

When he learns of an Angry Alan conference in Detroit, Roger impulsively pays the steep admission fee—along with a hefty “generous” donation—despite needing the money for his monthly child support payment.

Krasinski is virtuosic as he navigates Roger’s emotional shifts, ultimately revealing the darker undercurrents of his character with fearless precision.

Smartly directed by Sam Gold—his strongest New York work in recent memory, surpassing recent productions like Romeo + Juliet, An Enemy of the People, and Macbeth—the play, first produced in 2018 after development at the Aspen Fringe Festival, delivers a chillingly timely exploration of social media’s corrosive influence. Don Mackay, identified in the program as Skinner’s husband, is credited as co-creator.

The revolving set by dots vividly conjures Roger’s shared home with girlfriend Courtney and later, the Detroit conference venue. Qween Jean’s costumes, Isabella Byrd’s lighting, and Mikaal Sulaiman’s sound design are all top-tier.

The program lists five cameo performers, though four are seen only as projected photographs of people in Roger’s life.

This production also marks the debut of the newly restored former Second Stage space—the lounge area especially spiffy and inviting.

(Studio Seaview, 305 West 43rd Street; studioseaview.com; through Aug. 3)

Photo: Jonny Cournoyer – John Krasinski

Floyd Collins (Lincoln Center Theater)

By Harry Forbes

This is an intensely moving revival of composer/lyricist Adam Guettel’s 1996 musical about the highly publicized incident of a young explorer trapped in a Kentucky cave when his foot gets stuck under falling rocks, and the futile two week efforts to extricate him. Above ground, hucksters, gawkers, and even family join the media circus in the increasingly carnival-like atmosphere. 

The episode had the nation transfixed, and also inspired Billy Wilder’s 1951 film “Ace in the Hole.”

Of course, Guettel’s musicals, including “Light in the Piazza” (whose premiere was another triumph for Lincoln Center Theater) and “Days of Wine and Roses” are less traditional Broadway sounding, and more in the vein of modern opera. But there’s genuine melody in Guettel’s bluegrass-infused score, and under the baton of original conductor Ted Sperling, the sounds on stage and in the pit are ravishingly beautiful.

Jeremy Jordan as the hapless titular character is quite magnificent, surpassing even his finest past work. He's completely believable in the role, singing (and yodeling) superbly. (Hats off to Bruce Coughlin’s exquisite orchestrations, too.)

But the whole production is impeccably cast, with wonderful work by Jason Gotay as Floyd’s loving brother, who falls prey to the lure of showbiz, singer Lizzy McAlpine in her stage debut as his mentally fragile sister, Taylor Trensch as the rookie Louisville reporter assigned to cover the story and who bonds with Floyd most touchingly, Marc Kudisch and Jessica Molaskey as his conflicted father and tremulous stepmother, and Sean Allen Krill as engineer H.T. Carmichael who declares his company is the only way to Floyd’s rescue. 

There’s good work, too, from Dwayne Cooper, Jeremy Davis, and Charlie Franklin as the opportunistic reporters whose razzmatazz numbers sporadically offset the somber main story, and Wade McCollum, Cole Vaughan, and Clyde Voce as Floyd’s cronies. All are authentically outfitted in Anita Yavich’s period costumes. 

Tina Landau, book writer and co-lyricist, has beautifully staged the whole, with striking groupings of the family, fellow coal workers, and such above ground, and the cave scenes below. And though Floyd is trapped, there’s nothing static about the staging which is full of diverting visuals. The opening sequence with Floyd feeling his way through the dark is wondrously handled with lighting (Scott Zielinski) and (I presume) platforms on various levels. (The design collective, dots, created the eye-filling settings.)

Apparently, the original production showed Floyd more visually stuck in the cave whereas this one is done impressionistically. But the staging and lighting, in tandem with Dan Moses Schreier’s atmospheric sound design, makes it still highly atmospheric, claustrophobic, and nail-bitingly suspenseful.

(Lincoln Center Theater at the Vivian Beaumont, 150 West 65th Street; floydcollinsbroadway.com)

Photo by Joan Marcus: Jeremy Jordan

Stephen Sondheim's Old Friends (Manhattan Theatre Club)

By Harry Forbes

That ubiquitous genre, the  Stephen Sondheim revue -- one which had its genesis in Ned Sherrin and David Kernan’s “Side by Side by Sondheim” back in 1976 -- has provided us with numberless such tributes over the years, each one worthy in its own way. And this latest, derived from the one night only all-star gala at London’s Drury Lane in 2022, is no exception. (Fittingly, original “Side by Side” star Julia McKenzie serves as Artistic Director here.)

The evening was planned in its early stages by Sondhem himself in tandem with his British producer/colleague Cameron MacIntosh who, after Sondheim’s death, followed through with shaping the project. 

After the gala, the show was reworked for a regular West End run with different cast members. Now, on Broadway, only Bernadette Peters and Bonnie Langford remain from the festive one night occasion, but Peters is joined above-the-title with Lea Salonga, along with a classy roster of West End and Broadway talent, including Kate Jennings Grant, Gavin Lee, Joanna Riding, Beth Leavel, and Kevin Earley.

Unlike Broadway’s last Sondheim anthology -- “Sondheim by Sondheim” in 2000 -- there’s little narrative here, just number after number. Nearly all the songs will be more than familiar to fans, and if the show has a fault, that may be it. But one can’t argue with the quality of the material. And the audience at the performance I attended was highly enthusiastic throughout.

Though Salonga has not particularly associated with Sondheim, that instantly changes with “Old Friends.” Not only does Salonga offer gorgeous renditions of such lyrical ballads as “Loving You” and “Somewhere,” singing with the same crystalline clarity that brought her to fame in “Miss Saigon” in 1989, but most surprisingly, she takes on the raucous Mrs. Lovett in “Sweeney Todd” and force-of-nature dynamo Rose in “Gypsy.” And she’s quite fabulous in those atypical roles. 

As for Peters, the lady remains something of a marvel. She’s retained her classic look to a remarkable degree, and the voice, some occaional strain notwithstanding, is still capable of the purity of old. Given her long and distinguished career with Sondheim, it’s goose-bump time to hear her reprise bits of her original stage roles including “Sunday in the Park with George” and “Into the Woods.” as well as roles she played in revival during the composer’s lifetime, such as “A Little Night Music” and “Follies.” Both “Send in the Clowns” from the former and “Losing My Mind” from the latter are highlights. 

The first act gives us clusters of songs from “Company,” “Into the Woods,” and “Sweeney Todd,” along with other items, including a snippet of “Bounce” done by Peters, the rarest selection of the evening. Jeremy Secomb is particularly outstanding as Sweeney Todd, a role he’s played to acclaim. And in the “Into the Woods” sequence, there’s also standout work from Jacob Dickey as the Wolf, Early and Kyle Selig as the lovelorn princes, and Jasmine Forsberg as Cinderella. 

The second act includes an amusing riff on Peters’ distinctive version of “Broadway Baby,” and a funny version of “You Gotta Have a Gimmick,” with Peters, Leavel, and Riding as decidedly over-the-hill strippers. 

There are many highlights. For starters, Langford delivers one of the very best versions of “I’m Still Here,” propulsively sung with wonderfully firm tone, though one verse has undergone a lyric change to excise dated references. Riding, still fondly remembered for her Julie in Nicholas Hytner’s production of “Carousel” at the National Theatre, delivers the tongue-twisting “Getting Married Today” with aplomb. Lee sings a venomous gender-altered “Could I Leave You?” as Kernan did years ago in “Side by Side”; Leavel makes “The Ladies Who Lunch” her own. The “Tonight Quintet” from “West Side Story” gets a particularly exciting rendition from Dickey, Daniel Yearwood, Selig, Maria Wirries, and Jasmine Forsberg. Grant’s “The Boy from…” is a hoot. And Lee, Jason Pennycooke, and Selig cavort merrily through a riotous “Everybody Ought to Have a Maid.” 

The whole is beautifully paced by director Matthew Bourne (with choreography by Stephen Mear). Stephen Brooker’s musical arrangements are excellent, under the musical supervision of Alfonso Casado Trigo. (Annbritt duChateau conducts.) 

(The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre, 261 West 47th Street; OldFriendsBroadway.com; through June 15) 

Photos by Matthew Murphy:

(Top) - Jacob Dickey and Bernadette Peters perform “Hello, Little Girl” 

(Below) - Jeremy Secomb and Lea Salonga perform “The Worst Pies in London”

BOOP! The Musical (Broadhurst Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

“BOOP! The Musical” may not be one for the ages, but for now, I’d say this candy-colored concoction based on the adorable cartoon creation of the 1930’s Max Fleischer shorts is mightily entertaining. And it serves beautifully as a star-making vehicle for leading lady Jasmine Amy Rogers who wins all hearts with her delightful, perfectly judged portrayal.

She’s a fine human embodiment of the animated Boop -- eschewing the trademark voice of the cartoon’s Mae Questel (and others who voiced the characger in a Helen Kane little girl voice) -- but offering her distinct vocal charm. She excels in all departments, a genuine triple threat. Sabana Majeed’s hair and wig design (spit curls and all) help with the impersonation. Rogers maintains Betty’s innocence throughout, never breaking character. 

Very like the 2023 “Barbie” film, Bob Martin’s generally amusing book aims to make a case for the heroine’s relevance for today: her spunkiness, resourceful, versatile, and kind, and with a bit of a contemporary feminist perspective. But never in the heavy handed tiresome way of so many like-minded projects these days.

Martin gives us a Betty who’s weary of her black and white existence in the 1930s cartoon world, so she uses her inventor Grampy’s time travel device to be transported to the here and now, a world full of wondrous color. (The contrast between the black and white world of the past and the colorful present runs throughout the show, creatively embodied by Gregg Barnes' costumes and David Rockwell’s scenic design.)The Act 2 opener “Where is Betty?” is a witty visualization of that contrast, as the cast dances in costumes, color on one side, black and white on the other. (Nods to Fleischer's original renderings show up periodically in Finn Ross' projection design.)

Where Betty finds herself is smack dab in the middle of Comic Con in present-day New York, where she is befriended by teenaged Trisha (Angelica Hale) who, as it happens, has always idolized Betty Boop, and she takes the transplanted Betty under wing. Almost immediately, Betty falls for Trisha’s sometime babysitter Dwayne (outstanding Ainsley Melham), an aspiring trumpet player, who naturally falls for her himself.  

Rounding out the present day principals are Anastacia McCleskey as Tricia’s supportive aunt Carol who’s campaign manager for Erich Bergen’s oily politician Raymond Demarest running for mayor.

Veterans Stephen DeRosa and Faith Prince have some bright moments as Grampy (from the cartoon world of ToonTown), and his old flame Valentina with whom he reunites these many years later. Providing periodic diversion in the black and white world are Aubie Merrylees and Ricky Schroeder as Betty’s frantic director and his rather overly devoted assistant. And I mustn’t forget Betty’s little dog Pudgy, delightfully and unobtrusively manipulated by puppeteer Phillip Huber.

Music producer David Foster has fashioned a mostly traditional sounding score (with Susan Birkenhead’s expert lyrics), which is not 1930s pastiche as you might expect, but stylistically appropriate. The Betty-Dwayne duet, “Why Look Around the Corner” is a charmer, but there are lots of catchy tunes including Valentina’s “A Cure for Love” and her duet with Grampy, “Whatever It Takes.” Even the Demarest gets a good number, “Take It to the Next Level,” as he tries to make his lecherous moves on Betty. 

Betty’s eleven o’clock number, “Something to Shout About,” wins sustained applause. 

Director/choreographer Jerry Mitchell keeps things moving at a brisk, masterful pace, with plenty of invigorating dance numbers throughout. 

(Broadhurst Theatre, 235 W 44th St;  BoopTheMusical.com)

Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman © And tag @MurphyMade and @EvZMM:

(l-r) Jasmine Amy Rogers (Betty Boop) and Ainsley Melham (Dwayne)

The Picture of Dorian Gray (The Music Box)

By Harry Forbes

To cut to the chase, Sarah Snook --  known best globally for her role as Shiv Roy in HBO’s “Succession” -- is absolutely stupendous in this riveting adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s 1891 work, his only novel. 

Though technically a one-person show, the Australian actress brings to life 26 diverse characters by dint of her virtuosic acting skills and an astonishing video component that allows her to interact seamlessly with the myriad versions of herself on the LED video screens which float over the stage. The precision of it all is quite astounding. If you were blown away by the use of projections and roving cameras in Jamie Lloyd’s current revival of “Sunset Boulevard,” writer/director Kip Williams' work here goes several steps further.

Even Snooks’ mobile phone comes into play in a most creative, dextrous way, though the device was the cause of the one (brief) technical snafu of the evening at my performance.

Williams’ production was first mounted to acclaim by Sydney Theatre Company in 2010, and Snooks assumed the role in London where she won the Best Actress Olivier Award.

Marg Horwell’s scenic and costume designs were also so honored, and  -- coupled with David Bergman’s video design -- are simply dazzling. Williams’s direction keeps things going at a feverish, suspenseful pace that is nothing short of thrilling. Clemence Williams’ propulsive music adds to that excitement, and her sound design is superbly balanced. 

But for all the bravura technical effects -- and one does really focus on the screens more than the live actress underneath -- what really hooks you is Snooks’  mesmerizing storytelling technique, for this is narrative theater at its most accomplished. Even without the costume and wig changes, her facility at changing her voice and her persona from character to character is astonishing. Besides the foppish Gray (bedecked with a wispy blond wig (one that reminded me of the child actor Steven Warner in “The Little Prince” movie of eons ago), she conjures the decadent Lord Henry Wotton and the effete artist Basil Hallward, and a host of others, male and female. 

And, of course, Wilde’s tale of the beautiful young man whose increasingly dissipated and immoral behavior is reflected in the painting he keeps hidden in a locked room, while he himself retains his youthful beauty, is so beautifully adapted by Willaims and compulsively gripping that the dramatization registers with a rare intensity.

Williams directs with a humorously sardonic approach (reflected in Snooks’ often playful asides), and there are some occasional meta interjections, including concerning the video technique, and there’s one rather startling use of a Broadway musical song which I won’t spoil here which buffs will pick up on, but the themes of the story are related with appropriate gravitas right up to its devastating conclusion.

Snook is not alone on stage but aided by an unobtrusive crew of camera operators in black who manipulate the props and the cameras. They deservedly share the bows with her at the end.

(The Music Box, 239 West 45th Street; doriangrayplay.com; through June 29)

Photo by Marc Brenner: Sarah Snook

Vanya (Lucille Lortel Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

Andrew Scott is certainly riding a career high: the Irish actor’s much praised turn as Garry Essendine in an updating of Noel Coward’s “Present Laughter” at the National Theatre (also streamed); his starring role in the gripping Netflix “Ripley” series; his extraordinary performance in “All of Us Strangers” on the big screen; and this, his one-man performance of Chekhov’s “Uncle Vanya,” in which he takes on all nine parts.

The last played London’s West End, and also streamed in cinemas, courtesy of NT Live, and has now come to town where we get to see Scott’s amazing tour de force in person. Scott actually trod the boards in New York in 2006 with a supporting role in David Hare’s “The Vertical Hour” with Julianne Moore and Bill Nighy in their respective Broadway debuts but now he’s very much center stage. 

Adapter Simon Stephen, director Sam Yates, and designer Rosanna Vize all share co-creator credit with Scott himself, and in all, they’ve done a masterful job of distilling the action to the concept at hand. Though it’s clear things have been updated from the 19th century, the names have been Anglicized --Mikhail Astrov, the doctor, is called Michael, Marina the nanny is Maureen, Waffles is called Liam, Yelena is Helena and so on -- and all the accents are Irish, “Vanya”is in essence scrupulously faithful to its source. The most blatant alteration is Helena’s elderly pompous husband Alexander is now a filmmaker rather than a retired professor. 

So, too, there are some 20th century music cues.There is a sprinkling of f-words, a revision that even David Mamet, never one to shy away from an expletive, eschewed in his excellent adaptation of decades ago.

Otherwise, Chekhov is treated with due reverence, and the adaptation seems far more authentic than many other “Vanyas” we’ve had of late, including last season’s starry revival at Lincoln Center. 

Scott morphs effortlessly from character to character, sometimes leaving the stage through an upstage door to emerge two seconds later as with a different persona. And sometimes just changing position, or throwing his voice like a deft ventriloquist.

Much of Scott’s delivery is in a naturalistically quiet, conversational tone, requiring us to listen intently,  though he rises to dramatic heights in the scene of Vanya’s violent outburst. 

Which is not to say that there isn't an occasional confusion as to who is speaking even with a minimal use of props that sometimes help with character identification. Vanya initially wears shades. Michael compulsively bounces a ball. Sonia, Alexander’s daughter, plays with a cloth. Helena fiddles with her necklace. But more often everything is accomplished purely with body language and vocal delivery.

Still and all, a familiarity with "Uncle Vanya" makes a richer experience, and if you plan to see it, I would bone up on the play. (Helpfully, there are several superb productions on YouTube.)

Fabulous as Scott is, I won’t pretend that there weren’t moments I longed for a full cast but Scott’s dexterity and skill are more than compensation. So, too, his assumption of all the roles makes clear the commonality of their loneliness and sense of unfulfillment. 

Vize’s set gives Scott ample playing space, but one not rooted in a specific time or place: a table, some chairs, a swing (favored by Helena), a player piano (poignantly used to invoke the memory of Vanya’s late sister who had been married to Alexander before Helena). 

(Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher Street, vanyaonstage.com, through May 11)

Photo by Julieta Cervantes: Andrew Scott

Ghosts (LIncoln Center Theater)

By Harry Forbes

The first few minutes of director Jack O’Brien’s production of Henrik Ibsen’s once controversial and still provocative 1881 classic had me bracing for my second high concept deconstruction ot the week; the other being Rebecca Frecknall’s defiantly untraditional “A Streetcar Named Desire.”

For at the start of “Ghosts,” the actors shuffle out on stage in street clothes, and casually begin to mumble the first lines of the play. Then again but in a more outgoing manner. And then again until, presto, the lighting changes, and we’re suddenly “in” the play proper with the rest proving itself nicely conventional after all. Why the play needed that prologue, I still haven’t the foggiest notion, but no matter. 

As it happens, I had recently rewatched the 1987 BBC version directed by Elijah Moshinksy with a knockout cast including Judi Dench, Michael Gambon, Freddie Jones, Kenneth Branagh, and Natasha Richardson, and feared this couldn’t measure up by half. But happy to report that O’Brien’s sturdy staging holds its own. And Irish playwright Mark O’Rowe’s adaptation -- first done at the Abbey Theatre a couple of years ago -- is an exemplary one.

The cast here is excellent across the board. Lily Rabe is predictably compelling as the wealthy widow Mrs. Alving who lives on an island off the coast of Norway, and who is about to have an orphanage dedicated to the memory of her late husband. This coincides with the return of her long-absent and now mysteriously enervated son Oswald (Levon Hawke), and a visit from an old family friend Pastor Manders (Billy Crudup) who will officiate at the impending ceremony. Mrs. Alving has lived alone in the house with her housekeeper Regina (Ella Beatty) whose ne’er-do-well father Engstrand (Hamish Linklater) is the orphanage carpenter who wants Regina to return to him and help start some sort of hostel for visiting sailors. 

Into this basic setup, revelations soon abound, in the standard Ibsen way, and without giving any spoilers, as the play is arguably not so well known as some of his other works, suffice to say that incest, venereal disease, infidelity, substance abuse, debauchery, euthanasia,  and blackmail are all part of the whole, as well as all around disparaging of conventional morality. The Manders character  is the self proclaimed moral compass of all that unfolds. 

Rabe’s dry and acerbic delivery makes all her lines land sharply, and Crudup proves an expert sparring partner in Mrs. Alving’s scenes with the sanctimonious Manders. Linklater skillfully walks the line between earnest sincerity and fawning calculation, particularly in his dealings with Manders.  Relative newcomers Hawke and Beatty are excellent, and though I wouldn’t normally mention it, they are perhaps both early enough along in their careers to point out that Hawke is the son of Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman; and Beatty, the daughter of Warren Beatty and Annette Bening. They’ve each learned -- or inherited -- their crafts impressively.

Hawke plays his enigmatic part well, and convincingly rises to the high drama of his final scene with Rabe. Beatty is likable and unsentimental when she has to show her mettle.

John Lee Beatty’s simple set establishes the locale beautifully, aided by Japhy Weidenman’s atmospheric lighting, and Scott Lehrer and Mark Bennett’s rain-dominated sound design. A mid-play catastrophic event is particularly well handled by all. Jess Goldstein’s period costumes likewise add to the verisimilitude of the action.

The play runs one hour and 50 minutes without an interval, and rivets your attention throughout.

(Lincoln Center Theater at the Mitzi E. Newhouse; lct.org; through April 26)

Photo by Jeremy Daniel: (l.-r.) Lily Rabe, Billy Crudup