Who would pay $150 for the privilege to see this schlockfest again, masked and in an uncomfortable chair?
This short but powerful monologue, superbly delivered by Kirsten Quinn, exemplifies the strengths of Irish Heritage Theatre.
Zachary James delivers a thoughtfully crafted, blessedly restrained Quixote/Cervantes.
This film adaptation of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s beloved musical has come around at exactly the right moment.
Watching the actors—masked and in street clothes, struggling with umbrellas—was almost unbearably emotional.
Adam Rapp’s elliptical meditation on grief and guilt ushers in a new era of in-person performances in Philadelphia.
If The Night of the Iguana is not exactly a day at the beach, it’s not really the dark night of the soul it should be, either.
I’ve long held that Philly’s best actors are as good as those anywhere, and you’ll see that here.
MasterVoices’ epic project may be the best showcase Guettel’s work has yet received.
I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues: Our Critics discuss Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (for Parterre Box)
Netflix adaptation hits the marks of Wilson’s original while settling into a more focused filmic style.