"Come Fly Away," Tharp's dangerously gorgeous, wordless dance adventure, asks audiences to put aside the usual expectations of plot and to follow the delicious and foolish complexities of fo…
In Gordon Edelstein's willful and tedious rethinking (transferred from the Long Wharf Theatre in New Haven), the better story is the one about Tom, Laura's brother - the one Williams used as…
Even if you aren't one of Dame Edna Everage's biggest fans (and we know who we are), you are likely to find yourself wishing for more of her in "All About Me."
Twyla Tharp is back on Broadway, a fact more inevitable than it may appear.
Suzan-Lori Parks' "The Book of Grace" is less poetic and exhilarating than her 2002 Pulitzer-Prize winning "Topdog/Underdog" and more structurally straightforward than "-A," her gritty and p…
Harper comes out better than poor Tallulah in Matthew Lombardo's tiresome new biographical comedy/psycho-drama.
"Next Fall" is a love story about belief. I'm afraid I am not a believer - not in the love story or in the play.
"The Scottsboro Boys" would appear to have everything going for it- not the least of which is a slow musical season that needs a big mainstream hit.
A helpful family tree is diagrammed in the printed program of "When the Rain Stops Falling." But I hope nobody reads it until after Andrew Bovell's altogether extraordinary drama has been al…
The matchup of Walken, unpredictably creepy American actor, and Martin McDonagh, virtuosically gruesome Irish playwright, has finally occurred. And it's as perfect a frisson as it always was meant to be - except for one problem.
The play is really not good.
If you wonder, as I did, who on 21st century cyber-Earth would still want to see "The Miracle Worker," take a stroll past Circle in the Square Theatre (next door to "Wicked" on tween alley) before curtain time.
Better yet, take a seat and watch growing children sniffle and tear up at theater in which, bless them, no screaming green witches fly.
When The Pain and the Itch opened at Playwrights Horizons in 2006, Bruce Norris shot onto my short list of playwrights who dare to disturb the placid chemistry of theatergoing with sparky, hilarious, delightfully unrepentant observations about life as we choose to know it. Clybourne Park, his second premiere at the same theater, shares that uncompromising confidence.
Oddly enough, the theater is suddenly full of new plays by people we know as actors and performances by people we know as playwrights.
As far as I know, February, March and April have not been designated gay-men's history months. But you wouldn't know that from our theaters.