Stiff and one-dimensional brooding play that can be summarized by "Mom never loved Dad, and 46 years later, everyone’s sad". Dig it? No, you shouldn't have. Too bad for Nicky Silver fans: the script is flat and unresolved, acting disconnected, the whole affair unnecessary.
Master Harold and the boys
No matter how important apartheid theme is, the play does little except providing more cliches on the subject. Whiny, annoying kid complains for most of the show and then goes all white and privileged. Since race plays heavily into the "story" (was there a story?), I assume the playwright expected the audience to learn some kind of lesson from this. What that lesson is, I have no idea. There are far better and more engaging works of theatre with similar themes. This one never takes off.
An attempt of theatrical existentialism. A failed one. Watching it isn’t particularly rewarding. While it's inventive and Ann Kauffman as always works wonders with a tiny set, its overriding philosophy might be summed up by that slacker-era cliché: Life’s a bitch, and you know the rest.
This was good. In fact, this was very good. Too bad, it ended 2 days ago, and I'm as slow as ever with the review. But since it was so good, I'm sure it'll be made into a Broadway play in a couple of months. I hope they will bring the same actresses as it is some of the most exciting and affecting ensemble work on a New York stage. DeLappe's ear for dialogs is amazing, every character's line is pitch perfect, fresh and sincere. The ending could be less dramatic, and more realistic, but it's a small thing, as the play is absorbing, funny, coming of age and mature at the same time.
The Winter's Tale.
Goodbye, Declan Donnelan, you old fart. I loved you so, but we are done. You've been getting progressively dull over the past 3 years, and this latest endeavor is the dullest yet. I had to escape in the intermission not to cringe at the same 90-s Shakespeare staging tropes: suits for men, cubes for stage, video projections, etc Grrrrh.
Musicians from Marlboro
One of major revelations of this year concerns a role of classical music in my life. It is being evaluated. The first thing that goes out is in-doors recitals. So outdated, so unimaginative and uninspired. In the company of snoring centennials and pimply Chinese students. No mas.