Review
Chase’s iconoclastic genre-crossing oratorio proceeds from dark to light, and wins its struggle for transcendence.
Sleeping Weazel stages a gutsy production of an angry, ugly, and essential history lesson.
Richard Gessner’s head is a cavern piled high with wonders—original images, fresh metaphors, mind-stretching scenarios, and alternate world orders.
I found myself almost wishing the dramatist had written a longer play (a rare desire coming from a theater critic).
Nothing of value, it seems, was out of the reach of J. Pierpont Morgan’s acquisitive grasp.
Is a romantic relationship with someone who is lovely — but mentally ill — worth the effort?
The Boston Ballet’s program was meant as a tribute to the 100th anniversary of Finnish independence.
De Stefano tracks the evolution of a cabinet-maker’s daughter into a famously bombastic, chain-smoking political reporter and author.
Matthew Woods and his actors do not draw on a faux-naturalist performance style, which is so (unfortunately) fashionable in mainstream theater.
The bottom line is that we simply aren’t given a requisite sense of the play’s embrace of tragedy.
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