And, as usual, it's risky to go to the Great White Way searching for Great New Plays. With a few exceptions (see below), it's mostly revivals—some inspired (Faith Healer with Ralph Fiennes and Cherry Jones), others inspired by schlock movies and TV (Julia Roberts in Three Days of Rain, David Schwimmer in The Caine Mutiny). The ultra-weird Festen (like a cross between Strindberg's Dance of Death and My Name Is Earl) came and went without much notice.

Still, there's some good news, too. Below, two plays and one musical—all bejeweled with Tony nominations—that would make for a terrific long weekend of theater:

THAT DARN CAT: (L-R) Peter Gerety and Domhnall Gleeson ponder the feline life in Martin McDonagh's bloody, lusty Lieutenant of Inishmore. Photo By: Monique Carboni

A real winner, though not for the faint of heart or stomach! Playwright Martin McDonagh's blackest-of-comedies references the IRA, Greek tragedy and contemporary familial bickering as it traces a cycle of violence initiated with a mutilated cat. Along the way, there's lust, violence galore, and one of the best star entrances in recent memory. McDonagh is a one-man high-wire act with a take-no-prisoners attitude to characters and audiences—not everything works, but as the show gets more improbable, it also gets better. Director Wilson Milam milks every ounce of humor and gore, and the cast (especially David Wilmot as the chief hothead) is splendid. But it's McDonagh's language and imagery we remember. Ultimately, what I like most about Lieutenant is that it takes one of modern theater's most tiresome themes—the sad, wee lives of lyrical Irish folk—and turns it on its ear. Now playing, Lyceum Theatre, 149 W. 45th St., 212-239-6200.

Alan Bennett's comedy about an English prep school arrives from the Royal National Theatre, with its original production (including cast) intact. Boys is now the critical darling of two continents, and who am I to disagree? Indeed, the second half has some quite wonderful writing and acting—funny, touching, memorable. I'm less won over by the first act, which feels a trifle hackneyed (does there have to be a funny fat kid in every play about schoolboys?), and sometimes resorts to epigrams that sound deep but aren't. There is a topic of real interest here, though—the nature of education and its application—and Bennett shows off virtuoso skills. So do Nicholas Hytner, who directs, and what a fine cast headed by veteran Richard Griffiths. For me, the truly great performance is by Frances de la Tour, who plays the sole female teacher. At once sardonic and sensitive, de la Tour does more by tilting her head than other actors do tying themselves in knots. Be aware that Boys is a special interest piece—if the antics of coddled high school boys desperately seeking Oxbridge admission isn't your thing, I'd recommend you pick another show. Limited engagement: performances through Sept. 3, Broadhurst Theatre, 235 W. 44th St., 212-239-6200.

The latest critical and popular musical hit is a zippy charmer in which a funny, curmudgeonly Man in Chair (that's the character's name. Really.) shares with us his affection for a 1920s Broadway musical—the mythic, titular Drowsy Chaperone. In many ways it's immensely clever—also superbly performed (especially by Sutton Foster, a genuine theater star in the making). Chaperone has all the color, energy and bounce you could want. So why do I still feel cranky? Maybe it's because the meta-musical (Drowsy Chaperone, that is) looks and sounds nothing like an actual '20s show (starting with the virtual impossibility of a complete original cast recording dating from that era). Also, this feel-good piece is fundamentally about how old homosexuals end up sad and alone in squalid apartments, listening to musicals instead of having sex. (Perhaps it wasn't the ideal treat for two weeks before my 50th birthday …) Now playing, Marquis Theatre, 1535 Broadway, 212-307-4100.