If you’ve been to Broadway lately, you might have noticed that productions – including “The Notebook,” “The Outsiders,” “Water for Elephants,” “Suffs” and even “Merrily We Roll Along” – are provoking audibly strong reactions. The first two shows may feature rain onstage, but the waterworks coming from the audience are even more impressive.

Naturally, the unabashedly romantic “The Notebook,” based on a bestseller that inspired a hit movie, is prompting bawling; the merchandise includes branded tissue boxes. Two scenes in particular stand out: one in which lovers Noah and Allie (Ryan Vasquez and Joy Woods) reunite and kiss passionately in a downpour, and a latter one involving the older version of the couple (Dorian Harewood and Maryann Plunkett), with Allie now suffering from Alzheimer’s.

Emotions have been overflowing at the Broadway drama “Mary Jane,” which stars April Mathis, left, and Rachel McAdams. Matthew Murphy/BBBWay

“I was audibly sobbing, and I was glad I wasn’t the only one because you could hear the entire audience,” longtime theater critic Melissa Rose Bernardo said of that late scene. “Thank goodness I was wearing a mask, because that muffles the sound quite nicely. That’s a pro tip.” She also recommended wearing waterproof makeup.

Long Island resident Sara Hickis, who works in retail at a beauty-supply store, has seen “The Notebook” 14 times so far, but familiarity has not lessened its impact. The song “Iron in the Fridge,” for example, always gets her. “That one, I’m crying every time the second it starts,” said Hickis, 21. “Other nights, it’s completely random. Sometimes I cry because I’m so overwhelmed with how lucky I feel to be watching this story. Little scenes, like when they go to the dock, especially in the beginning when Noah and Allie meet for the first time. There’s such an innocence there. I remember being 17 and you meet someone for the first time.”

Emotions have also been overflowing at “The Outsiders” and “Water for Elephants” (the scene involving the horse Silver Star tends to open floodgates), as well as at the dramas “Mary Jane” and “Mother Play,” both of which are often very funny, although not in a sarcastic way. If anything ties all of these shows, it’s their commitment to big feelings – whether drama, love, friendship or hope – without any ironic distance.

Of course, past shows as different as “War Horse,” “Les Misérables,” “Dear Evan Hansen” and the Bette Midler revival of “Hello, Dolly!” have brought on sobs – in the latter case, of pure joy at being able to witness a charismatic star being herself. But making people cry is not easy, and pulling at the heartstrings too hard can severely backfire. Tim Etchells, artistic director of the British company Forced Entertainment, once wrote: “To be really moving in theatre, you have to work much harder but, at the same time, somehow work less hard. First of all, you can’t afford for anyone to see you coming. Asking for tears directly is like a comic demanding laughter. Forget it. Won’t work.”

Critics often see heavy-handed attempts at stirring up strong emotions, be they laughter or tears, as cheap or pandering – although there is no comedy equivalent to the word “tear-jerker,” which usually has negative connotations.

“ ‘Treacly’ or words like that, what does that even mean?” asked Plunkett (who, along with co-star Harewood, has been nominated for a Tony Award). “It’s life, especially our lives now. And coming out of covid, to come together into a space that lets us laugh and cry together, and to witness people who are attempting and failing, perhaps, to reach each other, but then finally find each other – I think it’s something we have been starving for.”

That sense of community is particularly important at Shaina Taub’s “Suffs,” about the suffragists’ fight in the 1910s for the right to vote. The musical features some poignant scenes that touch theatergoers, including the death of activist Inez Milholland, played by Hannah Cruz. “That one really got me,” Glidden said. “It was like Hannah was singing into the depths of my soul.”

But it’s the fiery speeches and hopeful numbers about, say, solidarity or the possibility of change that seem to really get to theatergoers, especially women.

Serene Williams flew to New York from the Bay Area with her mother to see “Suffs” on its Equal Rights Amendment Night in April. Williams, a high school teacher and suffrage historian, thought she was well prepared. Then, she “cried the whole time.”

“I know the story extremely well, so it was very surprising to me how emotional it was to see it,” said Williams, who describes herself as Gen X. She was particularly moved when suffragist Milholland sang the line “I want my great-granddaughter to know I was here” in the song “The March (We Demand Equality).”

“I’m the mother of teenage daughters, so that’s incredibly important to me,” Williams said.

Many theatergoers find community or catharsis, or both, at those shows. Although he is not particularly prone to tears in his everyday life (“My wife would tell you I’m somewhat stoic”), Glidden finds himself seeking them at the theater. When he needs an outlet, he often goes to “Hadestown,” a musical account of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice that opened on Broadway in 2019. Or, he looks for a newer production with strong emotional beats.

“I leave the theater almost like I just went to a therapy session,” said Glidden, who works in marketing for a travel company. “Just feeling so relieved and like a weight is lifted off my shoulder. I prefer the more uplifting cry moments, but even the sad ones get the job done. I’ve only seen ‘The Notebook’ once, but I can tell you every time I go back, I will be crying. There’s something about Alzheimer’s, that loss of memory, that just really hits you deep. I think next time I need a blubber, that’s where I’ll head.”

On social media, saying that a movie or song “destroyed” you generally is a compliment. Crying “can be like a badge of honor for people and, like, almost a measure of how much they enjoyed the show, and I’m someone who embraces it,” said Danielle Allen, 27, who works in social media marketing for an arts-focused company. She found herself crying at “The Outsiders.” A section of Act II that ends with the number “Stay Gold” had her – “and the rest of my section, by the sound of it” – weeping.

“Why be embarrassed?” theater critic Bernardo asked about the emotional outpouring. “Isn’t it a compliment to the show? They’re doing something right if they’re getting to all of us this way. It’s like applauding or any kind of other reaction.”

Like so many audience members, I have cried at shows this season. It was humbling, in a way, to admit I was emotional putty. But it was also satisfying on an elemental level, especially when it happened during those triggering scenes (Silver Star, “Stay Gold,” Plunkett’s pathos, “The March”), because I could sense my neighbors were losing it as well, creating a feeling of fellowship you just don’t get from Netflix.

And there was more: Tears streamed down my cheeks at Cole Escola’s “Oh, Mary!” – but it was from laughing so hard. This uproarious off-Broadway comedy was such a hot ticket after opening in February that it’s transferring to Broadway, where performances start in June. Whatever the reason, I can’t wait to reach for my tissues again.