Judith Ivey offers a performance of raw, unflinching honesty across the story’s increasingly bleak three hours.
This musical is as manicured as the kind of Stepfordian society the material supposedly rails against.
It’s not difficult to make an audience weep. But artists have a responsibility to not overuse that power.
Seen here, this dated piece of earnest but intolerant realism seems almost a parody of itself.
David and Cameron explore this charming new play, lit up with old fashioned star power.
By the time we’re meant to care deeply about these characters, I’d had more than enough of them.
Like any good gay theatergoers, we seek out Tennessee Williams revivals with the fervor of truffle-sniffing pigs.
So much doctrine; so little insight.
Seeing this exercise in naval-gazing on the eve of impeachment feels like the theatrical equivalent of fiddling while Rome burns.
Director Jamie Lloyd and a strong trio of actors puncture the pomposity of Harold Pinter’s adultery drama.