Lovia Gayarkye

Purpose might surprise Jacobs-Jenkins diehards in its relatively straightforward melodramatic structure and earnest undercurrents, but the language inspires and, as one character says, “really works its way inside you.” As the weekend unravels, taking wild turns that neither Nazareth nor Aziza could have imagined, the way the Jaspers talk to each other and about themselves becomes more heartbreaking. Their terse exchanges and angry tirades are searching, almost desperate pleas for direction and mutual understanding. They sound like monologues at the end of The Comeuppance, when audiences commune with death and, in the midst of a pandemic, grapple with what it means to die. In Purpose, Jacobs-Jenkins asks us to confront what it means to live.

MJ, like its subject, is captivating and hard to shake. The musical takes audiences through Jackson's life and catalog with impressive ease, expertly chronicling major milestones. After breaking up with Motown records, Michael goes to Epic, where he works with Quincy Jones to produce Off the Wall and Thriller. His vision and work ethic become more exacting, his drive to best himself at once breathtaking and worrisome. As the narrative burrows deeper into Michael's mind, the toll his artistry took on him is clear. He wanted to bring his audiences joyful and spectacular experiences, but he felt isolated and misunderstood.

Thoughts of a Colored Man is the kind of play I make excuses for. The Broadway production of Keenan Scott II's new work is a study of Black masculinity and 'blends spoken word, slam poetry, rhythm and humor' to tell the stories of a group of Black men living in Brooklyn. Based on this description alone, it sounds like the kind of project - experimental in structure, bold in vision and written and directed by Black people - that I want to succeed in the glaringly white world of theater. And yet, days after seeing this entertaining but emotionally inert play, I am resistant to passing judgment, plagued by the ways it fell short for me.