Jeff Cohen's docudrama about a long-circulated Holocaust horror story is big on sincerity but short on sparks.
Roberts wants to capture the sad-sack air of a defeated holiday-town entertainment, but you spend most of this show desperate for the end of the ride.
What checks have been written, what chits have been cashed, what ancient family friendships have been abused to lure these two reputable performers to the bowels of the East Village in a sni…
There's only so much that director Judith Ivey can do with a piece in which characters begin as clichés and then mature into types.
TONY's Theater editor plans the future.
When the material works, it's wonderfully witty and evocative.
Writer-director Mitchell Polin's cryptic snorefest is that most dreaded of audience experiences: amateur avant-gardism.
In short, The Europeans is a mess. But Barker reminds us that so is life.
It does not inspire tremendous confidence when a theatrical program misspells the play's title--not just once, but 20 times.
Les Éphémères clocks in at nearly seven hours. And almost every moment is pure brilliance.
It should be a clash of the titans, but there's no clash: It's a mild, respectful trading of biographical information of the titans.