The Missus and I saw David Lindsay-Abaire’s new play “Good People” in previews last month and loved it.

As did New York Times theater critic Ben Brantley:

Don’t make the mistake of thinking you understand Margaret Walsh from the get-go, because she’s not an easy gal to get a fix on. Not at first, anyway.

Embodied with an ideal balance of expertise and empathy by Frances McDormand, Margie (as her friends call her, using a hard “g”) is the not-quite heroine of David Lindsay-Abaire’s “Good People,” the very fine new play that opened Thursday night at the Samuel J. Friedman Theater. And discovering how Margie operates — and where she’s coming from — is one of the more subtly surprising treats of this theater season.

Ditto, says the Boston Globe’s Don (Road Trip!) Aucoin:

NEW YORK — With regard to dramas set in South Boston, the law of diminishing returns is bound to kick in at some point.

But not yet. Not when Southie can inspire a play like David Lindsay-Abaire’s “Good People,’’ which maps the fault lines of social class with a rare acuity of perception while also packing a substantial emotional wallop.

Not so much for the Wall Street Journal’s estimable theater critic Terry Teachout, who says the play is emotionally fraudulent:

“Good People” is, or purports to be, a study of life in Southie, a down-at-heel Boston neighborhood beloved of movie stars who think they can do the local accent. Mr. Lindsay-Abaire, who comes from a real-life Southie family, managed to land a scholarship to a tony New England prep school, which was his escalator to fame and fortune. All this undoubtedly explains the plot of “Good People,” in which Margie (Ms. McDormand, who works the charm pedal a bit too enthusiastically) is fired from her job as a clerk at a local dollar store, thus making it impossible for her to support her adult daughter, who was born prematurely and is severely handicapped (and who is kept offstage throughout the play, presumably so as not to shock the matinée crowd). In desperation, Margie looks up Mikey (Tate Donovan), an old high-school boyfriend who studied hard, became a doctor and now lives in a big house in a fancy suburb with his cute young wife (Renée Elise Goldsberry), who is—wait for it—an upper-middle-class black.

But wait – Teachout isn’t done with the virtues of luck over hard work:

Herein lies part of the phoniness of “Good People.” Of course people like Margie and Mikey exist, but I doubt it’s a coincidence that they are exactly the kinds of people who fit into the familiar sociological narrative that permeates every page of this play. In Mr. Lindsay-Abaire’s America, success is purely a matter of luck, and virtue inheres solely in those who are luckless. So what if Mikey worked hard? Why should anybody deserve any credit for working hard? Hence the crude deck-stacking built into the script of “Good People,” in which Mikey is the callous villain who forgot where he came from and Margie the plucky Southie gal who may be the least little bit racist (though she never says anything nasty to Mikey’s wife—that would be going too far!) but is otherwise a perfect heroine-victim.

Here’s the hardworking staff’s review: Go see the play yourself.

And give our regards to Broadway.