David Adjmi’s clever but thin play offers theatrical showmanship but not much else.
Alan Harris’s rollercoaster of a play is a hint of Spring renewal in the depths of February.
This puzzling evening celebrated an adored institution even as it raised questions.
Mastery of style is everywhere in this jewel of a show that is wistful, wry, and deeply touching.
How could some very talented people deliver a show so devoid of authenticity?
But why isn’t there more light and clarity in this moody but muddy work about illuminated manuscripts?
Hats off to EgoPo for the theatrical coup of the season: mounting John Guare’s epic play cycle.
In director Ken Marini’s revelatory production, Beckett’s modern classic feels freshly-minted.
Part I of John Guare’s monumental trilogy perplexes even as it makes us want more.
Jackie Sibblies Drury’s dreary play is a sprawling, 70-minute journey to nowhere.