Eugene O’Neill drew his first breath in a Broadway hotel room, fittingly, but a wealth of his formative experiences happened slightly north of the big grey town, in and around Boston. Of course, he died in Boston, too, in rather drawn-out and painful fashion, in what is now a (haunted, so they say) BU dorm, and even as you read this he is very slowly working his way through eternity there, in a cemetery in Jamaica Plain. And speaking of ghosts, this is a particularly haunted and haunting staging of O’Neill’s still-shattering Long Day’s Journey into Night by New Repertory Theatre – bleached white set, white costumes, a dusty, harrowing past shrouded over it all, and some bittersweet poignancy in the casting. (FULL ARTICLE: Andrea Shea, WBUR)