Aladdin Not that it matters, but this live touring version of the Broadway musical based on a 1992 Disney animation is shrill, bombastic, and almost hysterically chipper. Everything the cast and designers bring to the tale of Aladdin—a petty thief who becomes a mensch and then a sultan—is top-notch, from Jonathan Weir and Reggie de Leon’s comic villains to Anthony Murphy’s outsize Genie to the glinting, golden Cave of Wonders created by set designer Bob Crowley. But the tempo is so manic, the tone so ingratiating, the Alan Menken score so antiseptically good-natured that you end up feeling like you’ve been assaulted by the world’s best party clown. Still, as I say, none of that matters: the decision on whether to see the show isn’t yours to make. It’s in the hands of your ten-year-old daughter, because you want her to remember you fondly when you’re dead. —Tony Adler
Marry Me a Little Porchlight Music Theatre’s captivating two-person concept revue weaves a collection of little-known Stephen Sondheim songs—many of them cut from the musicals they were originally written for—into a poignant vignette about a sweet romance that goes sadly sour. Stellar singer-actors Bethany Thomas and Austin Cook (a superb keyboardist who also serves as the production’s musical director) play high-rise neighbors who meet when she complains about his loud piano playing. Cleverly staged by Jess McLeod, the show features “trunk songs” trimmed from Company, A Little Night Music, and Into the Woods, as well as tunes from early Sondheim efforts including Saturday Night. Thomas, whose extraordinary voice ranges from silvery soprano heights to volcanic contralto depths, never lets her vocal prowess overshadow the all-important text, whether she’s bawdily belting “Can That Boy Foxtrot” (a Follies outtake) or spinning out a delicate, spine-tingling rendition of “I Remember Spring,” from the 1966 TV special Evening Primrose. —Albert Williams
Scapegoat What if your congressional representative was literally an agent of Satan? Would it surprise anyone at this point? Such is the premise of the New Colony’s world-premiere production of Connor McNamara’s political comedy/thriller. The set, split between the devil-worshipping senator’s country home and the Washington office of his Bible-thumping rival, is presided over by a sinister portrait of Teddy Roosevelt. This parody of our political system sadly doesn’t seem very farfetched, and the dark humor is bolstered by the cast’s not playing it for laughs. One wishes the play would pause once in a while to take a breath, but it’s hard to argue with much of what it’s saying. Kristina Valada-Viers directs. —Dmitry Samarov
