Austin Fimmano

To the most critical eye, the ending of Drag: The Musical, a kind of deus ex machina, may be unsatisfying. But really, Drag: The Musical has everything that a musical could want: big numbers, big wigs, loveable characters, and a lot of heart. And I’d be very surprised if no one walks away from the theatre with the song “Drag is Expensive” stuck in their head.

These three actors have so much individual talent and group chemistry that it would have been an entertaining 90 minutes if they had been reading the phone book. But with Table 17, the honesty and the wittiness of the writing hook you immediately if the actors’ dynamism hadn't already. The excellent costume design (Devario D. Simmons) allows the characters to transition seamlessly between the present day to flashbacks in a club, on a plane, or at a Knicks game. Director Zhailon Livingston’s vision ensures the characters always feel three-dimensional, sometimes literally as they dance among the audience members seated at the other “tables.” The meet-cute, the proposal, the escalating fights - there’s something magical about getting lost in the formulaic.

Cellino v. Barnes is a tight two-hander that sails by thanks to the chemistry of its two leads. Eric William Morris is a buffoonishly braggadocious Ross Cellino with a sprinkle of daddy issues, and Noah Weisberg (in a comically ill-fitting bald cap) is a slightly skeevy, yet endearingly dedicated Steve Barnes. We follow the two of them at breakneck speed from the moment young nepo baby Cellino catches first year associate Barnes rooting through company files, trying to get a leg up for his hiring interview.

Together with James Scully as Mary’s handsome drama teacher, Bianca Leigh as Mary’s long-suffering chaperone, and Tony Macht as Abe’s extremely pliant assistant, the entire ensemble elevates very silly jokes into a work of art that keeps you riveted from start to finish. Suffice it to say that when the lights went up after the curtain call, my guest and I agreed we had literally laughed until our faces hurt.

Dark Noon’s defining feature is the way the narrative can swing from over-the-top hilarity to darkly sobering in a matter of seconds. The episodic nature can wear a little thin at times, especially as the pioneer town advances and the focus spirals in different directions. Nevertheless, Dark Noon is an arresting story that packs a punch, especially performed in the country it so expertly lampoons. The show’s most poignant moment comes at the epilogue, when the actors cast off their roles and speak directly, earnestly, to the camera as themselves. One by one, they tell us about their childhoods in apartheid and post-apartheid South Africa, about the influence of the guns and violence gleefully portrayed in American movies, and the personal, real-life harm that was caused.

The physical and visual comedy in Jordans is top-notch. It’s also excellent comedic relief to the darker themes and creepier scenes of the play, such as Jordan having hot coffee intentionally poured on her face or Hailey, the boss, feeling up 1.Jordan when they first meet. Jordans is sharp, chilling, and twistedly funny even at its darkest. There is good reason for its numerous content warnings, but if you can stomach a little blood, sex, and violence for the sake of great satire, you’ll be richly rewarded. Olujobi’s writing paired with the direction of Whitney White (fresh off of Jaja’s African Hair Braiding on Broadway) makes for a thrill ride full of tension and laughs.

Ruhl’s adaptation of Orlando pulls heavily from the source material, which can end up feeling like a distant narration rather than an emotionally involved story. That said, the cast are all endlessly personable. Laughs abound throughout the duration of the show’s 100-minute runtime