The audience at this vulgar show doesn’t care about Russian History. What they want is AnastasiaTM.
Scott Ellis’s busy production puts Porter’s sublime musical between a rock and a hard place.
In their best moments, the mezzo and pianist Ted Sperling were near-ideal Bernstein-isti.
What R. B. Schlather’s visually arresting production has to do with the opera remains a mystery.
For sheer charm, I doubt this production will be equaled this year, or for many to come.
Fine voices and musical values here far outshine a cliché-ridden production.
Perhaps unintentionally, Rick Foster’s hagiographic one-hander captures just what’s wrong with America’s most beloved actress.
Peter Sinn Nachtrieb’s play, meant to be funny, shocking and poignant, seems instead to be trying too hard.
An unspeakably vulgar adaptation of Shaw’s magnum opus is an alarm bell we shouldn’t ignore.
Elevator Repair Service provides plenty of ironic spin but misses its own sense of privilege.