Is this the underwhelming Kit Kat Club all over again? Well, yes and no.
David Duchovny orchestrates Neil LaBute’s new play like a virtuoso.
Ghosts in the Cottonwoods is without question some of the most raw and intestine twisting theater happening in New York City right now.
Those who just can’t get enough of ace actor Michael Shannon can now get nothing but him.
Star wattage seems to be the new energy source powering Broadway.
Wagner knew that the search for a hero who can keep the darkness at bay while protecting us from the forces of evil is something that all people can get behind.
How do you want it: long and slow or hard and fast?
Another season, another round of Brit transfers
When Alex Timbers was 12 years old, he and an elementary school buddy had their own public access cable show in Manhattan.
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.
As the economy crumbles all around us, Depression-era nostalgia is in the air.
Busch discusses playing a mother superior in his new play, now at the Soho Playhouse.
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.
Shear sat down with us recently to talk about her new play.
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.
By now, I’m sure many of us have read about Setoodeh’s infamous Newsweek piece about gay actors.
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.