Austin Fimmano — Theater Critic

On the Evolutionary Function of Shame is a master class in weaving topical issues with people and stories that humanize those issues. And in a world that is actively trying to remove trans people from society, to see a play like this one is truly special, and no small privilege.

Wohl’s writing is sharp and witty, toggling back and forth between humor and heartbreak with natural ease. But given the length of the show, the two acts of the play can feel like they’re spiraling after a while. Even so, the characters are personable enough that it’s easy to get lost in their worries. Wohl’s charming, fourth-wall-breaking lead is played with an endearing desperation by Susannah Flood, who navigates the time jumps between 1970 and the present well. And though she has comparatively fewer lines than the rest of the cast, Kayla Davion’s turn as Lizzie when the narrator needs to take herself out of her mother’s shoes is one of the most powerful scenes in the show.

Kowalski isn’t an entirely seamless play. Both the framing device (an older Tennessee Williams telling the story on a talk show) and the secondary characters feel somewhat superfluous against the strength of the meeting between Williams and Brando. But the electricity of the two lead characters together is undeniably exciting to experience, and it just may make you want to go home and learn everything there is to know about them.

McDonald’s take on Momma Rose is all her own from her very first line to her triumphant final song. She oozes with all of Rose’s insecurities but loves so fiercely and protectively. McDonald throws her entire being into “Rose’s Turn,” building and building until you begin to marvel that you are lucky enough to witness such a performance. And when Rose finishes her song, soaking in the adoration from the audience that is both imaginary and also very real, there is no other choice but to give her a standing ovation.

It’s hard to follow the film's leading ladies Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn, but if anyone is up for it, it’s Megan Hilty and Jennifer Simard. Hilty bursts with star power as the glamorous and self-indulged actress Madeline Ashton, and Simard’s dry delivery is hilarious in author Helen Sharp’s meeker getup — and even better after she transforms into a femme fatale to show up Ashton. Christopher Sieber is the perfectly bumbling plastic surgeon Ernest Menville, who can’t get a song in edgewise when Madeline and Helen are at their finest - though he manages to sneak away for a ludicrously funny song of his own in one of the campiest scenes of the show. Michelle Williams, a Broadway veteran and former Destiny’s Child member, opens the show and is ever-present as the otherworldly Viola van Horn (based on Lisle von Rhuman from the film). Aloof in contrast to the hotheadedness of the main characters, with a voice to bring the house down, she is a fitting choice for a character offering eternal youth.

King Lear is stripped down to two hours, focusing more on the external conflicts than any internal ones. This makes for an action-packed show, but without some of the more emotionally resonant scenes, the tragic ending doesn’t quite pack a punch.

We Live in Cairo’s evocative music, complete with an all-Arab band and distinct Arabic instruments like the oud, gives it the wings to fly. The cast, all powerful vocalists, make the words of the soundtrack resonate throughout the theater as they experience hope, love, and loss. Sweeping anthems such as “Genealogy of Revolution” and “Tahrir Is Now” to the sweet, more personal “Movement” or “Living Here” make these six fictional students as real as the events of the revolution itself. Timeless and beyond any single movement, We Live in Cairo is a tribute to the lives of people who fight for the greater good, no matter the cost.

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