In Michael Hollinger’s perplexing but enchanting play, getting there is the best part.
With Shaw’s go-big-or-go-home masterpiece, playing it small and safe is not good enough.
The vocal standards are high, and the pleasure of discovering new talent always exhilarating.
Mack, who opened the season creating a new role, is now back in an iconic one.
Can we please stop fetishizing female angst as the highest form of acting?
John Guare’s monumental Lydie Breeze trilogy ends movingly, if not entirely clearly.
A rare opportunity to see Tell Me on a Sunday reveals a good idea, flawed in the execution.
Little by little, this small but wonderful musical makes magic.
Quintessence Theatre’s production is problematic, but even the problems are interesting.
Tennessee Williams’ wrote his female characters with compassion—why can’t the director see it?