Is this the underwhelming Kit Kat Club all over again? Well, yes and no.
Menzel has range, but her character doesn’t, and that’s Redwood’s chief failure.
In the last two years, the festival’s programming has grown riskier and more boundary-crossing.
The theater pieces that resonated most this year were stories of communal, collective healing.
For devotees looking to see Wicked explode on to the screen, Chu’s vision won’t disappoint.
Darren Criss and Helen J. Shen turn the slightest of touches into electric connection.
Rachel Zegler and Kit Connor’s casting will persuade their fans that this story is dope AF.
Sunset Boulevard’s heavy bones drag behind Jamie Lloyd’s austere vision like a body bag.
The unendurable passage of time haunts both plays.
Not knowing what’s real and what’s not is less compelling than McNeal contends.
At its funniest, The Roommate is a comedy of manners, an unapologetic throwback.
Whenever the film lets the critic do his criticizing, McKellen is a wicked delight.
If the show isn’t just riotously funny but whipsmart and lovely, too, so are its new stars.
With Life and Trust, Emursive has opted wisely for mood over minutiae.
Job preserves an unsettling undercurrent, despite its ridiculous premise.
Despite the 12 Angry Men-like setup, there’s nothing anonymous about the women here.
There are at least four celebrated contenders vying, all equally convincingly, for the top prize.
Jenkins’s remarkable TV adaptation receives a gorgeous and generously loaded box set.
Each play poeticizes the cradle-to-near-grave journey of so-called ordinary American lives.
The show ultimately overlooks its own message: that a little isolation goes a long way.