New York Magazine is a PAN, although he thinks the cast isn't to blame:
"By the finale, lessons have been learned, innocence has been lost, and one character actually utters: “Is this the end? Or just the beginning?” (That’s “ ... and they lived happily ever after” for the Ouroboros-tattoo set.) Spoiler alert: It’s the end. The curtain falls, with excruciating slowness, then rises again to reveal the cast, all playing guitars. They sing “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)”; the song is not from the American Idiot album, but it’s catchy, it’s recognizable, and it will do for an encore. And, like the similarly catchy Idiot songs, it conjures nothing so much as nostalgia for itself. The cast plays it reverently, yet it’s glaringly obvious that many of them aren’t exactly rocking out—in fact, most of them look like they’re air-strumming. Which, come to think of it, is at the heart of everything that is wrong with this purely gestural pantomime of astounding emptiness. It’s a piece without a period, a geist without a Zeit—or a clue. The lissome ensemble does its best to hold American Idiot aloft, but the show’s smothering affectation and tacky synthesis visibly drain the kids’ brio like an aging hipster vampire. They thrash and perspire—the only two moves in the show’s seizure-inspired choreographic vocabulary—and, in the end, they’re doomed ... to perform this hectically irrelevant pageant eight times a week."
Twenty-First Century Breakdown, Scott Brown on American Idiot