Close Login Box
We will not get another Angels in America unless we demand it -- and stop accepting bogus substitutes.
Recommended hashtags for the Boston Theatre Critics Association: #MeTooGiveMeTime, #MeTooNotYet
Joshua Sobol isn't interested in exploring dramatic possibilities but making sure his equation about the inevitable mechanics of violence work out.
Albert Camus brings a bracing response to thinking about the worse that is missing in so many of our current dystopias.
The script is symptomatic of the Trump era: a passionate rejection of the "politically correct” pushes warriors for "freedom,” as well as voices of radicalism, into morally despicable po…
The strategic silences in the Boston Globe's piece on the legacy of Israel Horovitz are disturbing.
We need more serious, informed, and diverse voices evaluating and reporting on the arts at a time newspapers and magazines are cutting back and/or dumbing down their arts sections.
To my surprise, the auto union was written out of the picture from the start, as if dramatist Dominique Morisseau saw it as an embarrassment.
Steve is a satisfyingly genial comedy that brings up, but then darts quickly away from, serious issues.
The White Card's examination of white philanthropy and racism stays well within the comfort zone.
Shange's nervy mix of wordplay and in-your-face didacticism -- of resilience in the face of hardship -- is very much the empowering thing.
It was time for a bit of a face-lift.
The publication, its editor, and its over 60 writers believe that the health of arts criticism and the arts community are inextricably intertwined.
Ada/Ava is an impressive theatrical feat that finds a new, and invigorating, way of telling a story on stage.
Some of our critics talk about the books that meant the most to them over the past year.
Does anyone really believe that there is no sexual harassment going on in Boston area theater companies today?
Hold These Truths is an invaluable reminder that alternative facts are not a new thing.
More alarming signs that the Boston Globe‘s arts section is shedding talent.
Critics were once seen as the 'canaries in the mineshaft' -- now newspapers and magazines are closing down the mines.
Sleeping Weazel stages a gutsy production of an angry, ugly, and essential history lesson.
Let us hope that today's revelations will be taken more seriously than charges of sexual harassment and assault were back in 1993.
Edgar Allan Poe: Buried Alive does an honorable service for the writer who embodied, as well as created, "The Imp of the Perverse."
We are invited to see the world through the eyes of an adolescent whose autism makes human communication and contact incredibly difficult.
An invigorating staging of Henrik Ibsen's still pertinent play about spinelessness up and down the political spectrum.
Selina Fllinger’s play manages to serve up some vivid confrontations between believers and doubters.
Off the Grid's The Weird is content to cast a low wattage spell.
Burn all Night is a pretty damp squib coming from one of the country's major regional theaters.
American Moor is a terrific meditation on Othello and race.
Wonder why Boston theater is so bland, why there is so little political resistance?
This is an evening that, through an excess of imagination, makes as little sense as possible.
If the ballyhoo around the Public Theater's Julius Caesar is a sign of the times, then we have a lot more than Trump to fear.