Robin Williams’s casting is one of the more astute choices for Moises Kaufman’s solidly crafted production of Rajiv Joseph’s Pulitzer finalist.
Okay, the gripes are gonna come out first.
Any native of a downtrodden city will tell you that there’s an undeniably authentic quality to the work here.
Nothing could have prepared me for Rapp’s chilling, unrelentingly committed glimpse into dystopia with Nursing.
You can’t swing a cat in this town without hitting a theater with a dysfunctional family drama, and this one even has the kitty to prove it.
Adam Bock’s plays need to be handled as delicately as someone balancing an egg on a spoon from room to room.
Haunted might have benefited from more claustrophobic surroundings.
David Duchovny orchestrates Neil LaBute’s new play like a virtuoso.
Those who just can’t get enough of ace actor Michael Shannon can now get nothing but him.
Star Turns: Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones in Driving Miss Daisy and Jan Maxwell in Wings
Star wattage seems to be the new energy source powering Broadway.
How do you want it: long and slow or hard and fast?
Another season, another round of Brit transfers
Perhaps the most shocking aspect of provocateur Ivo van Hove’s slick remounting of Lillian Hellman’s The Little Foxes is that it really isn’t that shocking.
The production is far from a party and more akin to a long soiree in which the cool people haven’t arrived yet.
This has to be the toughest prediction year since Avenue Q shockingly walked away with the Best Musical prize six years ago.
If The Burnt Part Boys is good-natured Wonder bread, then Oliver Parker! is burnt toast that’s been peed on.
To paraphrase possibly its greatest tune: It’s still got life, brother.
Faith or no faith, whatever denomination you wish to call yourself, Passion Play more than lives up to its title.
Brian Kulick’s herky-jerky production is never quite sure what to do with the great Dianne Wiest.
Somehow a fully-cast sextet sloppily became a quartet in Beth Henley’s logy, often risible play Family Week.