As described by Bill Bragin when I ran into him at the opening night party for "Passing Strange," the review by the New York Times’ Charles Isherwood is tantamount to a "love letter".  Check this out:

But please don’t call it a Broadway musical. You could scare away too many people who might actually enjoy it.

Call it a rock concert with a story to tell, trimmed with a lot of great jokes. Or call it a sprawling work of performance art, complete with angry rants and scary drag queens. Call it whatever you want, really. I’ll just call it wonderful, and a welcome anomaly on Broadway, which can use all the vigorous new artistic blood it can get.

. . .as an African-American who grew up comfortably in Los Angeles, where he defiantly cleaved to Zen Buddhism and punk rock, thumbing his nose at church and Mom and the prospect of middle-class achievement, Stew brings an invigorating new perspective to the classic coming-of-age narrative.

In case you missed the review, you can read it here.

Now–as I’ve said before–run, don’t walk, to see this.

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