Michelle Cohn's Hadid begins with a deliciously preposterous premise and, wisely, never apologizes for it. What if the world's most photographed family had one member who somehow escaped the camera's gaze entirely? Cohn imagines Helena Hadid, the fictional middle sibling wedged between the glamorous gravitational pull of Gigi and Bella and the relentless brand management of their mother, Yolanda. Helena is not a model, not an influencer, not even a reality television personality. She is, instead, a struggling writer earning minimum wage as an usher at a cultural center, collecting rejection letters with the grim regularity that her sisters collect magazine covers. It is an inspired comic conceit, one that transforms celebrity culture into an unexpectedly poignant meditation on the ordinary sibling condemned to live forever in extraordinary shadows.

Cohn's greatest achievement is her performance. Alone onstage, she slips effortlessly between Helena, Bella, Gigi, and Yolanda, distinguishing each through subtle shifts of rhythm, posture, and vocal texture rather than broad caricature. Helena herself is especially appealing—a quick-witted intellectual whose nervous verbosity stands in hilarious contrast to the languid, perfectly curated serenity of her famous relatives. Her self-deprecating observations land with precision: she describes herself as possessing "a face for radio and a body for short fiction writing," while watching her sisters somehow transform even a humiliating tumble down the stairs at the Cooper Hewitt gala into another branding opportunity, complete with the imagined launch of Dior kneepads under the banner of "falling chic." Cohn understands that the funniest jokes emerge not from mocking celebrity but from exposing its absurd ability to metabolize every embarrassment into marketable content.

The script is peppered with wonderfully observed details that make Helena's predicament feel simultaneously ridiculous and recognizable. The family's commandments—never go against the family, always wear underwear, always use aliases when making dinner reservations, never accept a first-floor hotel room—suggest a dynasty whose every movement has been optimized for publicity and protection. Helena dates a man named Chris while pretending to be an only child, suppresses her irritation whenever her mother reminds her not to create "frown lines," and watches in disbelief as her own earnest for the sake of argument let’s title it Throwing Up Alone at Disney is politely dismissed by a writers' group even as the story of her sisters' tumbling down a staircase mishap somehow becomes internet gold. The humor repeatedly circles back to a painful truth: in the attention economy, talent is no match for fame.

Yet beneath the satire lies an affecting portrait of frustrated ambition. Helena's rejection from an elite writers' residency becomes the emotional hinge of the evening, sharpening her resentment until she commits the one unforgivable Hadid sin—placing personal fulfillment above family loyalty by writing an exposé, one that receives the attention of The Cut in a thinkpiece that goes massively viral during a Hadid photo shoot. Cohn clearly wants to explore the uneasy border between betrayal and self-preservation, asking what obligations we owe to those whose identities threaten to eclipse our own. The play's emotional core is not celebrity gossip but the universal ache of watching everyone around you appear to receive everything they desire while your own aspirations are met with polite rejection.

The production is less successful in fully capitalizing on its ingenious premise. Helena's act of rebellion arrives and resolves with surprising speed, denying the play the richer moral complications it seems poised to investigate. Likewise, the satire never becomes quite as ferocious as the setup invites. Cohn assumes an audience already fluent in the mythology of the Hadids—the supermodel sisters, the carefully curated romances (Gigi alone shuttled from Cody Simpson to Joe Jonas to Zayn Malik to Leonardo DiCaprio to Bradley Cooper becoming her own frontline candidate for condom commercials), even the less famous brother Anwar, whose greatest public distinction may be dating pop star Dua Lipa—and the script occasionally mistakes recognition for comic development. The closing joke, in particular, depends heavily on that familiarity. One wishes the play spent more time luxuriating in the bizarre machinery of celebrity itself rather than merely referencing it.

Still, Hadid succeeds because Michelle Cohn never loses sight of the human being trapped inside the punchline. Helena may inhabit a world of designer gowns, publicists, influencers, and viral scandals, but her anxieties belong to anyone who has felt overshadowed by a sibling, overlooked by gatekeepers, or quietly convinced that everyone else has been handed a script with a happier ending. The Hadid surname provides the glittering comic wrapper; what Cohn ultimately offers is a warm, sharply observed study of envy, loyalty, and the stubborn hope that there might still be room, somewhere beyond the family brand, for a life that belongs entirely to oneself.

 ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Hadid played its last performance July 21, 2026

To purchase tickets to see Hadid in Edinburgh: edfringe.com

For info on other 59E59 programming: 59E59

Produced by Michelle Cohn and Ronald Gross as part of 59E59 East to Edinburgh

Written and Performed by Michelle Cohn

Directed by Emily Olcott

59E59 Theaters, Theater C

59 East 59th Street

Manhattan

Fri JULY 10 8:30pm,  Wed JULY 15 6:30pm,  Tue JULY 21 6:30pm

THE WIZARD OF OZ comes with one enormous challenge: everybody already has their own version of Oz sitting in their heads.

We know Dorothy’s dress. We know the ruby slippers. We know the Tin Man, the flying monkeys, the Wicked Witch, the yellow brick road, and exactly how many times that woman is going to threaten a little girl over a dog. Putting all of that on the very small stage at Legacy Theatre in Branford is a huge undertaking.

Director Hannah Ryan wisely avoids trying to cram the MGM movie into the building. Instead, Legacy creates its own handmade Oz using tiered wooden platforms, a small company playing nearly everyone, and a collection of repurposed household objects that gives the production its own playful personality.

The story remains the one practically everyone knows. Dorothy is swept out of Kansas by a tornado and dropped into Oz, where she accidentally kills a witch, takes her shoes, and immediately becomes the target of the dead woman’s extremely angry sister. She sets off for the Emerald City with the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly Lion, each hoping the Wizard can provide whatever they believe they are missing.

Annika Jonker makes a warm and likable Dorothy. Her “Over the Rainbow” is beautifully sung without becoming an imitation of Judy Garland, and I loved seeing Dorothy in dark blue overalls with sewn-on patches instead of the familiar gingham dress. It makes her feel like an actual Kansas farm kid instead of someone who just stepped out of the MGM wardrobe department.

Charles Romano’s loose-limbed Scarecrow is a lot of fun, and his patchwork costume is one of the production’s strongest designs. Garrett Van Allen brings plenty of charm to the Tin Man, and Jimmy Donohue’s Cowardly Lion has the voice, the accent, the comedic timing, the looks, and an impressive collection of nervous little noises. The three work especially well together once the journey settles into its comedy.

Olivia Fenton has the necessary bite as Miss Gulch and the Wicked Witch, although I could have used a little more danger from the Witch. Sarah Anne Hughes brings warmth to Aunt Em and Glinda, while Rod Brogan has a great time with both Professor Marvel and the Wizard. His delivery of “I’m a very good man. I’m just a bad wizard” lands exactly as it should.

The production gets a remarkable amount of mileage out of Ryan Howell’s multilevel set. Seven platforms become a farm, Munchkinland, a forest, the Emerald City, and the Witch’s castle, sometimes within minutes. The company crawls beneath them, climbs across them, pops out from behind them, and occasionally disappears into spaces that do not look large enough to hold a human body.

Douglas Macur’s lighting carries much of the visual storytelling. Kansas begins in a muted palette before the stage blooms into color when Dorothy reaches Oz. String lights shift with the location, red washes spread across the poppy field, and small changes in color help separate places built from the same wooden platforms.

One lighting choice is much less effective. The Wicked Witch is lit in red rather than green, which makes her face appear brown and muddies one of the character’s most recognizable visual features. Green lighting would have worked much better.

The tornado sequence is busy and not always clear, but there are smart ideas inside it. Puppetry is also used well, particularly with the crows, and the ensemble keeps Oz moving even when the physical space sometimes limits them.

Jimmy Johansmeyer’s costumes embrace the production’s handmade, found-object style. The Munchkins are colorful and adorable, with terrific hats and flower fascinators. Dorothy’s overalls are a welcome change of pace, the Scarecrow’s patchwork design fits the production beautifully, and the Cowardly Lion’s strips of ragged fabric give him plenty of personality.

The designs also have fun incorporating familiar household objects. Glinda’s crown appears to be fashioned from forks, the Tin Man wears a washboard, and the Winkies arrive in metal headpieces decorated with kitchen tools. The Tin Man’s look may not be the most traditional interpretation of the character, but it pays off during a genuinely fun tap break, accompanied by an ensemble member playing along on a metal bowl.

One of the production’s funniest ideas is Miss Gulch’s scooter. Watching her tear into the theater on wheels to seize Dorothy’s dog is ridiculous in exactly the right way.

And then there is Gus, the real dog playing Toto during the Kansas scenes. He is adorable, remarkably well behaved, and receives exactly the response you would expect from an audience suddenly presented with a very good boy. Once Dorothy reaches Oz, Gus is replaced by a tiny stuffed Toto. A slightly larger double might make the switch less noticeable, but the real Gus has already done more than enough to win everyone over.

The four-piece band, led by David Marottollo, gives the familiar score plenty of life without overpowering the performers. “If I Only Had a Brain,” “The Merry Old Land of Oz,” and “If I Were King of the Forest” are especially enjoyable. The company also handles the constant doubling, costume changes, entrances, exits, and traffic patterns with impressive commitment.

Legacy makes very good use of every inch of the theater. The action frequently spills into the aisles and stairways, the house lights rise from time to time, and the characters join the audience out in the theater. It makes the production feel larger without making the space feel crowded.

The evening also has a genuine sense of play. Umbrellas become birds. Kitchen tools become armor. Seven wooden platforms become an entire country. Legacy may not have acres of scenery, a large flying house, or an army of monkeys, but it keeps finding inventive ways to send Dorothy down the yellow brick road.

Legacy Theatre is also one of the cutest theaters I have ever visited, and I already know I will be making the trip back to Branford to see what they do next.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

For tickets and information:

www.legacytheatrect.org

Legacy Theatre

128 Thimble Islands Road

Branford, Connecticut

Performances through August 9, 2026

CAST:

Rod Brogan - Wizard / Professor Marvel

Sophia Coppola - Ensemble (Wicked Witch / Miss Gulch Understudy)

Jimmy Donohue - Lion / Zeke

Lucas Dylan - Ensemble (Lion / Zeke Understudy)

Olivia Fenton - Wicked Witch / Miss Gulch

Rick Fountain - Emerald City Guard / Uncle Henry (Wizard / Professor Marvel Understudy)

Nicholas Futris - Swing

Fletcher Hooten - Ensemble (Tin Man Understudy)

Sarah Anne Hughes - Glinda / Aunt Em

Annika Jonker - Dorothy

Sophia Nardone - Swing

Madeline Olexy - Ensemble (Dorothy Understudy)

Jenna L. Ptachcinski - Ensemble (Glinda / Aunt Em Understudy)

Charles Romano - Scarecrow

Ron St. John III - Ensemble (Scarecrow Understudy)

Garrett Van Allen - Tin Man

Gus - Toto

CREATIVE TEAM:

Book - L. Frank Baum

Music - Harold Arlen

Lyrics - E. Y. Harburg

Background Music - Herbert Stothart

Dance and Vocal Arrangements - Peter Howard

Orchestration - Larry Wilcox

Adapted by - John Kane for the Royal Shakespeare Company

Director - Hannah Ryan

Choreographer - Eric Santagata

Music Director - David Marottollo

Production Stage Manager - T. Rick Jones

Scenic Designer - Ryan Howell

Costume Designer - Jimmy Johansmeyer

Lighting and Projection Designer - Douglas Macur

Sound Designer - Michael Skinner

Props Designer - Colleen Callahan

MUSICIANS:

Keyboard - David Marottollo

Drums - Anthony Soscia

Violin - Kelly Gembara

Reeds - Patrick Lombardo

Harry Warren, Al Dubin, Michael Stewart, and Mark Bramble’s 42nd Street is playing at Sharon Playhouse in Sharon, Connecticut, through August 9.

Set during the Great Depression, the musical follows Peggy Sawyer, a nervous young performer from Allentown who arrives in New York hoping to land her first Broadway job. She misses the audition, talks her way into the company anyway, and soon finds herself in the chorus of “Pretty Lady,” a massive new musical being directed by the demanding Julian Marsh. When leading lady Dorothy Brock is injured, Peggy is handed the opportunity every chorus performer dreams about, along with roughly one night to learn the entire show without dying.

This was my first visit to Sharon Playhouse, and it certainly will not be my last.

From the moment we arrived, everything was remarkably organized. The staff and volunteers were among the friendliest I have encountered at any theater, and the entire afternoon felt welcoming before the show even began. Then the cast launched into the opening audition sequence, and Sharon Playhouse made it very clear that nobody had invited us all the way to Sharon, Connecticut, for some halfhearted shuffle-ball-change.

Amy Van Norstrand’s choreography is the centerpiece of this production. The opening tap sequence is so clean and precise that I found myself watching individual feet, amazed that nobody ever slipped out of formation. The large ensemble numbers are sharp, beautifully arranged, and performed with the kind of precision that makes an audience understand exactly how much work has gone into making something look effortless.

And there is a lot of tapping. Glorious, relentless tapping.

The title number and the other large production sequences are the kind of old-school musical-theater spectacles that can look painfully dated when they are performed without enough commitment. Here, the entire company throws itself into them. Sharon Playhouse does not try to drag 42nd Street into the present day or apologize for what it is. They give it a terrific cast, magnificent costumes, a strong orchestra, and enough energy to prove that the old-fashioned approach still works when everyone onstage is this good.

Gabi Stapula makes Peggy immediately likable without turning her into a helpless little waif waiting for Broadway to discover her. She is funny, warm, and completely believable as someone frightened by the size of the opportunity in front of her but talented enough to survive it. She also has a beautiful voice and handles the enormous physical demands of the role with impressive confidence.

Michael F. McGuirk gives Julian Marsh plenty of authority, but he does not play him as a screaming monster from beginning to end. There is genuine affection beneath all that Broadway-director fury, especially once he begins preparing Peggy for opening night.

His famous pep talk could easily become a slab of old theatrical melodrama. McGuirk gives it enough sincerity that it becomes unexpectedly sweet, even when Julian announces, “By tomorrow night I’ll either have a live leading lady or a dead chorus girl.”

Nothing calms a terrified young performer quite like the possibility of dying for musical theater.

Savannah Stevenson’s Dorothy Brock is glamorous, demanding, and very funny without becoming a complete caricature. Dorothy may arrive with a contract, a wealthy financial backer, a dressing room full of requirements, and no particular desire to audition for anyone, but Stevenson also gives her enough humanity that her later scenes with Peggy carry real weight.

Before Peggy goes on, Dorothy tells her to “be so swell you’ll make me hate you.” Stevenson lets the joke land, but she also makes it clear that Peggy’s dream is arriving on the same night Dorothy may be watching her own career disappear.

After the performance, Julian calls Peggy “the million-to-one shot that comes home a winner.” McGuirk makes the moment feel less like one more enormous Broadway declaration and more like a man realizing that all his impossible demands actually worked.

The entire company sings beautifully. When the full cast joins together, the sound is rich and powerful without becoming a competition to see who can hold the loudest note the longest. Ian Black brings plenty of charm to Billy Lawlor, while Amy Wilson and Rudd Anderson keep the backstage comedy moving without treating every joke like it needs to be beaten to death.

Kathleen DeAngelis’ costumes are fabulous. The gowns, chorus looks, rehearsal clothes, and enormous parade of sparkling production costumes all appear carefully designed rather than pulled together from whatever happened to be sitting in storage. “We’re in the Money” is a particular visual standout, but the costumes throughout the evening keep finding new ways to become even more elaborate.

There were a few early-performance sound problems. Several lines disappeared because microphones did not switch on quickly enough, which briefly made it seem like parts of conversations had simply been removed. It happened more than once, but this is also the sort of issue that often gets corrected as a new production settles into its run.

The orchestra deserves its own praise. Under Eric Thomas Johnson’s music direction, the nine-piece ensemble sounds full, lively, and far larger than nine musicians. The score has warmth and personality, and even smaller moments of underscoring, particularly the clarinet beneath one of Julian’s later speeches, add considerably to the scene without begging for attention.

I also did something I almost never do at the theater: I ordered a drink during intermission. The prices were so reasonable that we had to try the mimosa, and it was poured exactly the way I like, which means someone understood that the orange juice is there for decorative purposes only.

Sharon Playhouse sells every glorious minute of this unapologetically old-fashioned Broadway musical.

The production is joyful, beautifully sung, spectacularly danced, and dressed within an inch of its life. My first trip to Sharon Playhouse could not have made a stronger impression.

As Peggy might say, it would be grand, grand, grand if I came back.

And I will.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

For tickets and more information: www.sharonplayhouse.org

Sharon Playhouse

49 Amenia Road

Sharon, Connecticut

Running through August 9, 2026

CAST:

Robert Mintz - Andy Lee

Amy Wilson - Maggie Jones

Rudd Anderson - Bert Barry

Alex Wilbur - Mac

Liesl Landegger - Phyllis Dale

Liana Nicole Monaco - Lorraine Fleming

Lily Anderson - Diane Lorimer

Sasha Spitz - Ethel

Savannah Wright - Gladys

Michelle Lemon - Ann Reilly

Ian Black - Billy Lawlor

Gabi Stapula - Peggy Sawyer

Michael F. McGuirk - Julian Marsh

Savannah Stevenson - Dorothy Brock

Payton Turpin - Abner Dillon

Landon Zwick - Pat Denning

Larry Toyter - Waiter, Doctor

Isaiah Mayhew - Thug

Ensemble - Lily Anderson, Nathan Ayotte, Jack Canevari, Liesl Landegger, Isaiah Mayhew, Liana Nicole Monaco, Sasha Spitz, Larry Toyter, Savannah Wright, Landon Zwick

Teen Ensemble - Andy Delgado, Caitlyn Kops, Liam Reynolds, Christian Sciarrillo, Mia Tonon, Brianna Vivace, Alex Wilbur

CREATIVE TEAM:

Harry Warren - Music

Al Dubin - Lyrics

Michael Stewart & Mark Bramble - Book

Bradford Ropes - Based on the Novel

Carl Andress - Director

Amy Van Norstrand - Choreographer

Eric Thomas Johnson - Music Director

Christopher Swader & Justin Swader - Scenic Design

Kathleen DeAngelis - Costume Design

Wheeler Moon - Lighting Design

Graham Stone - Sound Design

Bobbie Zlotnik - Wig & Makeup Design

Meredith Yoho - Technical Director

Perseis J. Grant - Production Manager

Madeleine Carroll - Audio Engineer

Judy Bowman, CSA - Casting Director

Kristine Schlachter - Production Stage Manager

Amelia Hastings - Assistant Stage Manager

Sarah Kozma - Production Photos

ORCHESTRA:

Eric Thomas Johnson - Conductor/Keyboard

Eric Wagner - Percussion

Rich Conley - Reed I

David Radovich - Reed II

Louis Bonifati - Reed III

James Osborn - Trumpet I

David Pratt - Trumpet II

Walter Barrett - Trombone

Mike Lee - Bass

Melissa Maney’s HUNGRY WOMEN, now playing at SoHo Playhouse through August 30, imagines what might happen if every man suddenly disappeared from the planet.

The play begins in the 1890s with four women gathered around a table for tea, gossip, and a rapidly escalating discussion about what happens next. One woman arrives wearing her late husband’s clothing, immediately signaling that not everyone intends to keep living by the old rules. From there, the story moves across generations as women attempt to rebuild society, redefine power, and decide which pieces of the old world deserve to survive.

This is an incredibly smart play, but it never forgets to be entertaining. Maney takes a premise that could easily become a two-hour lecture and instead fills it with dark comedy, science fiction, ghosts, cannibalism, reproductive complications, and women discovering that removing men does not automatically remove ambition, cruelty, lust, jealousy, or the desperate need to control other people.

So, basically, government.

Maney keeps pushing the idea into stranger, darker, and funnier territory without losing the questions underneath it. The play examines survival, identity, sexuality, motherhood, and power, but it never feels as though the audience is being handed a list of approved conclusions. These women are allowed to be intelligent, ridiculous, loving, selfish, brave, frightened, and occasionally horrifying.

Julia Lester, Zoe Dean, Mariyea, and Sophie Zmorrod are superb together. Each creates a series of distinct characters as the story jumps through time, and the transformations go far beyond a costume change or a different voice. Their physicality, relationships, and entire energy shift from one generation to the next.

Lester brings tremendous comic precision and emotional depth to her characters. Dean can turn a small reaction into an entire side conversation with the audience. Mariyea has a wonderfully sharp presence and lands some of the play’s darkest humor beautifully. Zmorrod moves easily between authority, vulnerability, and complete chaos. There is not a weak performance among them.

Daniella Caggiano directs the production with confidence and keeps the transitions between time periods clear without overexplaining them. The pacing allows the comedy to breathe while still keeping the story moving through two hundred years of increasingly complicated female civilization.

Qingan Zhang’s scenic and projection design gives each period its own visual identity while allowing the production to move quickly between them. Olivia Hern’s costumes help establish the shifting eras and social structures, and Annie Garrett-Larsen’s lighting creates several striking changes in atmosphere. I especially loved the hand-appliquéd “Hungry Women” detail on the tablecloth, a small touch that perfectly matches the care put into the entire production. Chris Verde’s sound design also helps guide the play through its stranger and more unsettling turns.

HUNGRY WOMEN is brilliantly written, superbly acted, wonderfully twisted, and completely fearless about following its ideas wherever they lead.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

For tickets and information:

SoHoPlayhouse.com

SoHo Playhouse

15 Vandam Street

Performances through August 30, 2026

CAST

Julia Lester

Zoe Dean

Mariyea

Sophie Zmorrod

CREATIVE TEAM

Playwright - Melissa Maney

Director - Daniella Caggiano

Scenic and Projection Design - Qingan Zhang

Costume Design - Olivia Hern

Lighting Design - Annie Garrett-Larsen

Sound Design - Chris Verde

Dramaturg - Alejandra Godoy

Stage Manager - Kaelin Elizabeth Fuld

Assistant Stage Manager - Elise Joyner

Publicity, Social Media and Marketing Consulting - Katie Rosin/Kampfire

Rebecca J Michelson - Production Photos

Taylor Jon Gonzalez’s CHAPTER MEETING follows four members of a Brooklyn DSA (Democratic Socialists of America) chapter gathering for an all-night meeting during a snowstorm.

Michelle Chan Bennett plays Mar, the chapter’s most intense organizer. Kiko Soirée is Dee, a social-media personality with a very different relationship to money and influence. Kelly Whitley plays Esther, the wealthy host trying to keep the meeting from completely falling apart, while Ihea Inyama is Andrew, whose announcement that he has accepted a full-time job lands less like a career update and more like a betrayal of the entire movement.

The premise is interesting, and the play finds comedy in watching people talk constantly about solidarity, accountability, privilege, and community while becoming completely incapable of extending any of those things to one another. Everyone seems committed to the cause until the cause becomes inconvenient.

There are sharp jokes about protest planning, social-media activism, inherited wealth, influencer culture, and the impossible task of living entirely outside capitalism while still paying rent in Brooklyn. The cast commits fully to the escalating ridiculousness, and some of the strongest moments come from everyone treating increasingly outrageous behavior like ordinary chapter business.

I laughed a few times, but I spent much of the play trying to determine exactly what it wanted me to laugh at.

Was it making fun of the DSA? Performative activists? Wealthy liberals? Influencers? Sex workers? People with jobs? People without jobs? At different points, the answer appears to be all of them.

That wide net gives the play plenty of material, but it also left me struggling to follow its actual viewpoint. I was never quite sure whose side the play was on, whether it was deliberately hanging somewhere in the middle, or whether it simply had not decided yet.

Political satire does not have to deliver a lecture or tell the audience exactly what to think. Still, when a play spends this much time throwing punches in every direction, I eventually want some sense of what it is fighting for.

CHAPTER MEETING is sometimes funny, and filled with sharp observations about political purity and hypocrisy. It also feels like a brand-new play still sorting through which of those observations matter most.

I enjoyed some parts of this meeting, however, I’m just still not entirely sure what was decided.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Presented by perfect10s
Wild Project
195 East 3rd Street

For tickets and more information: Perfect10s

CAST:

Michelle Chan Bennett - Mar
Kiko Soirée - Dee
Kelly Whitley - Esther
Ihea Inyama - Andrew

CREATIVE TEAM:

Written and Directed by Taylor Jon Gonzalez
Assistant Director and Stage Manager - Abigail Landesman
Lighting Design - Z Cameron

Thomas Donohoe & Joshua Rusibov - Technicians

David Gibbs/DARR Publicity - Press Representative

Sabrina DiGeorge - Production Photos

Dr. Arthur Benjamin’s THAT MATH SHOW brings mathematics, magic, comedy, and a whole lot of audience participation to Theater555 through August 16. Directed by Eric Krebs and presented by The Science Theater Company in association with the National Museum of Mathematics, the 75-minute show turns numbers into something playful, surprising, and genuinely entertaining.

Dr. Benjamin begins by asking the audience a question and guiding everyone through a quick chain of choices. What looks completely random turns into the first of many moments where he proves that numbers can be manipulated, predicted, and turned into something that feels a lot like magic. It is a clever opening that immediately establishes what the rest of the show will be: part math lesson, part magic act, and part opportunity for him to make an entire theater feel pleasantly confused.

He invites audience members onstage with calculators and then begins multiplying and squaring numbers in his head faster than they can keep up. He makes a calculator look embarrassingly slow, and it does make you wonder whether he is actually allowed anywhere near a card table at a casino. He starts with two-digit numbers, moves to three and four, and eventually works his way up to squaring a five-digit number while explaining his thought process aloud. Calling it impressive feels wildly insufficient.

The best part is that Dr. Benjamin does not simply perform these feats and send everyone home feeling mathematically inadequate. He teaches several of his shortcuts along the way. The audience learns tricks for multiplying two-digit numbers by eleven, recognizing patterns in multiples of nine, remembering long strings of numbers, and determining what day of the week a particular date falls on.

Dr. Benjamin is a wonderful teacher. He explains each idea clearly, keeps the pace moving, and makes the audience feel involved rather than lectured. Even when the calculations become increasingly complicated, the show remains relaxed and accessible. I would love to sit in one of his classes.

Audience participation is built into nearly every section. Dr. Benjamin creates a magic square using a volunteer’s birthday, asks people to provide dates so he can identify the day of the week they were born, and relies on whatever numbers the audience gives him. That means each performance can shift slightly depending on who is in the room, and he handles every volunteer with warmth and ease.

He also explores Fibonacci numbers, shares a memorable method for learning the digits of pi, and performs a silly song about it. His collection of dad jokes only adds to the charm. They are corny, he knows they are corny, and they fit the show perfectly.

THAT MATH SHOW is educational without feeling like school and impressive without becoming cold or overly serious. Dr. Benjamin clearly loves mathematics, but more importantly, he knows how to communicate that excitement to an audience.

You may not leave ready to square a five-digit number in your head, but you will probably leave knowing a few new tricks and looking at numbers a little differently. THAT MATH SHOW is smart, funny, interactive, and a very good time.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

For tickets and more information:

www.ThatMathShow.com

Theater555

555 West 42nd Street

Performances through August 16, 2026

CAST & CREATIVE:

Dr. Arthur Benjamin - Performer

The Assistant - Curtis Howard

Eric Krebs - Director

Peter R. Feuchtwanger - Production Management & Set Design

Joan Racho Jansen - Lighting Design

Andy Evan Cohen - Video & Sound Design

Zoe Messenger - Video Creation

Caitlin Duffy - Script Consultant

Richard Hillman - Press

Sarah Milnamow - Digital & Social Media

Graphics & Website Design - Augstina Casella

Russ Rowland - Production Photos

Conor McPherson’s THIS LIME TREE BOWER brings together three men from an Irish seaside town whose lives are connected by family, friendship, sex, debt, boredom, and one increasingly terrible idea.

Joe is a schoolboy completely fascinated by his new friend Damien and desperately trying to seem more experienced than he is. Ray is a philosophy lecturer whose drinking, bad decisions, and complete lack of shame could fill an entire play by themselves. Frank works in his family’s chip shop and watches his father struggle beneath a debt owed to the deeply unpleasant Simple Simon.

Their stories begin in different places, but names, rumors, relationships, and local legends gradually begin crossing between them.

This production is performed upstairs at Quick Eternity, a cocktail bar in the Seaport, with the audience seated only a few feet from the actors. There is no traditional stage and almost nothing separating the performers from the people watching them.

James Wilkie Broderick, Forrest Weber, and Patrick Perih share the space throughout the play, moving between chairs, leaning against the wall, perching on the windowsill, and casually listening whenever one of the others takes over the story. Under Christopher Ryan’s direction, it feels less like three actors delivering separate monologues and more like three men hanging around a bar, swapping stories, interrupting with a look or a laugh, and helping build the world together.

The Irish accents are exquisite. Not “pretty good for Americans.” Not “close enough once your drink arrives.” Exquisite. The rhythm, phrasing, and ease feel so natural that I would have believed all three actors had been flown in from Ireland that afternoon and immediately deposited above a bar on Peck Slip.

Broderick gives Joe all the nervous excitement of a teenager trying to convince everyone, including himself, that he understands sex, friendship, and adulthood. He is sweet, painfully horny, and nowhere near as convincing as he thinks he is. Joe’s stories are very funny, but Broderick also lets us see the loneliness and insecurity hiding underneath all that teenage nonsense.

Weber’s Ray is an entirely different creature. He is arrogant, selfish, frequently drunk, and spectacularly entertaining. Ray speaks as though every thought he has is a major philosophical breakthrough, even when he is describing behavior that should have required several apologies and possibly an intervention.

Weber delivers every awful confession with such confidence that Ray almost convinces us he is the smartest man in town.

Almost.

Perih’s Frank initially appears to be the most grounded of the three. He works beside his father in the family chip shop, understands how badly the business is struggling, and sees exactly how Simple Simon is taking advantage of them. Perih makes Frank tremendously likable, which becomes important when frustration and loyalty begin pushing him toward some extremely questionable choices.

His storytelling has an easy warmth that makes the audience trust him immediately. Frank may not always have the best plan, but Perih makes it very easy to understand why he thinks he does.

Also, let us address the obvious: all three men are extremely sexy. This is not essential to understanding McPherson’s examination of masculinity, money, and men making terrible choices. It is, however, relevant information for anyone considering spending the evening seated very close to them.

McPherson’s writing is packed with stories that initially seem like drunken detours. A local rumor, a strange encounter, an embarrassing confession, or a bit of town history may appear and then disappear for a while. Gradually, details begin resurfacing and the connections become clearer.

The writing trusts the audience to listen without repeatedly stopping to explain itself. You do have to pay attention, but the payoff is worth it.

Ryan keeps the production moving without rushing any of the performers. Each man has his own pace and personality, but the stories still feel like they belong to the same slightly damp, deeply nosy town where everybody knows everybody else’s business and half of what they know may be complete nonsense.

The humor is filthy, casual, and deeply Irish. These men speak about sex, death, money, religion, family, and crime with the same matter-of-fact tone someone might use while ordering chips. One moment is aggressively stupid, the next is unexpectedly sad, and neither feels like it came from a different play.

The setting is perfect. Watching three men tell bar stories above an actual bar gives the production an atmosphere that a conventional theater would have a difficult time recreating. Drinks and food are available, but the show never becomes background entertainment. Once the stories begin, the upstairs room fills with bookies, students, chip shops, bad fathers, worse boyfriends, and men who have never met a mistake they could not make larger.

THIS LIME TREE BOWER is beautifully performed, extremely funny, and far more touching than its parade of sex jokes and criminal stupidity initially suggests. GoodBad Group has created an intimate night of theater that feels less like watching a play and more like being cornered at a pub by three very attractive Irishmen who have been waiting all evening to tell you everything.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

EVA HEINEMANN:

Conor McPherson’s THIS LIME TREE BOWER focuses on teenage Joe 

(James Broderick) experiencing all the angst of life.

Joe becomes overly friendly with the new bad boy in town, Damian. Joe’s brother Frank (Patrick Perih) helps his dad out in the Chipper and looks after him after their mom died. Their sister is going out with a philosophy professor, Ray (Forrest Weber) who isn’t very faithful.

This being Ireland, there is lots of drinking and questionable choices.

The dad owes the smarmy local bookie a two thousand dollar loan.

Will he ever be able to pay it off? What drastic measures does Frank take to help out his family? Will Ray ever sober up?

I saw this originally in 1999 with Primary Stages and I remember Drew McVety was in it and nothing else so I was curious to see it again.

This was a site specific show set in Quick Eternity, a delightful bar in South Street Seaport. Very intimate. I felt right on top of the action and we even helped with sound effects.

The cast was very impressive with their Irish accents.

James Broderick as Joe has just the right amount of sweet innocence as he tries to navigate losing his mom, wanting to impress his new BFF, and day dreaming of Debra.

Patrick Perih as Frank was a decent, empathetic, hard working man. While everyone else was having over the top emotions, he tried to hold everything together for his family’s sake. But even he has his limits.

Forrest Weber as Ray has the most expressive face and he is just so much fun to watch. While his character is despicable, I couldn’t help but still be charmed by his obnoxious behavior.

Christopher Ryan did a bang up job directing this in such a small space occupied mostly by the audience.

Normally I find Connor McPherson and long monologues extremely boring but the actors painted such a picture of the shenanigans that I was drawn in from start to finish.

“HAPPY FACE PLUS” -Eva Heinemann, Hi! Drama

Visit Hi! Drama’s Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/hidramas

THIS LIME TREE BOWER plays through August 1

Quick Eternity

22 Peck Slip

For tickets and information:

https://www.goodbad.group/thislimetreebower

Presented by GoodBad Group

CAST:

James Wilkie Broderick - Joe

Forrest Weber - Ray

Patrick Perih - Frank

CREATIVE TEAM:

Conor McPherson - Playwright

Christopher Ryan - Director

Richie Radici - Producer

Bill Schaumberg’s THREE CHICKENS CONFRONT EXISTENCE places three factory-farmed chickens inside adjoining cages as they wait to learn which cell block will be sent to the broiler next.

That sounds horrifying.

It is also extremely funny.

Helen, Bronseman, and Reginald have almost no control over their lives, very little room to move, and far too much time to think about their impending deaths. To keep themselves occupied, they experiment with mathematics, gratitude, spirituality, storytelling, politics, and whatever else might make life inside a cage feel slightly less unbearable.

Schaumberg’s script is absolutely brilliant. The play takes enormous questions about mortality, faith, power, suffering, and the need to find meaning and filters them through three chickens who behave with an uncomfortable amount of recognizable humanity.

The writing is smart without becoming exhausting. A philosophical conversation can suddenly collapse into complete poultry nonsense, while a ridiculous joke can reveal something unexpectedly sad about the characters’ lives. The play never forgets that these chickens are waiting to die, but it also refuses to let that reality smother the comedy.

My favorite sequence begins when the chickens decide to create a story that might explain where they came from and what all of this suffering means. It does not take long before their own invention begins acquiring rules, followers, and the kind of unquestioning devotion usually reserved for people who insist their personal interpretation of the universe is the only correct one.

The scene is hilarious because the chickens can barely keep up with the belief system they are building, yet some of them become completely devoted to it almost immediately. Schaumberg pokes directly at the way religious certainty can grow out of fear, repetition, and a desperate need for comfort, especially when that comfort makes an unbearable situation easier to accept.

Religion is not the play’s only target. Schaumberg also pokes at class systems, political authority, intellectual arrogance, forced positivity, and the urge to assign importance to anything that briefly makes life feel less random. No philosophy escapes without losing at least a few feathers.

Audrey Rapoport, Matthew DiLoreto, and Eric Kirchberger give three superbly controlled performances. Because the characters remain confined for most of the production, the actors have to create them through vocal rhythms, facial expressions, tiny movements, and exceptionally precise comic timing.

Rapoport gives Helen a determined optimism that is both funny and increasingly painful. DiLoreto makes Bronseman skeptical, frustrated, vulnerable, and constantly searching for something he can believe. Kirchberger is magnificent as Reginald, an intellectual snob whose confidence and grand declarations regularly crash into the ridiculous reality of being a chicken in a cage.

Together, the actors keep the production lively despite its deliberately restricted staging. Their arguments, silences, interruptions, and sudden shifts in loyalty make the cages feel like a complete little society rather than three actors sitting in place.

Danny Moss’s stark scenic design keeps the characters visibly trapped, while Ebony Burton’s lighting helps transform the factory’s mechanical routines into moments of genuine suspense. Sasha Richter’s feathered costumes are wonderfully ridiculous, but never so exaggerated that they prevent us from caring about the characters underneath them.

That balance is what makes the production work so well. THREE CHICKENS CONFRONT EXISTENCE is silly without being shallow, upsetting without becoming miserable, and intelligent without disappearing inside its own ideas.

You will laugh at these chickens.

You may also recognize far too much of yourself in them.

THREE CHICKENS CONFRONT EXISTENCE is seventy minutes of hilarious, thoughtful, wonderfully strange theater. It is a brilliant script performed by three actors who understand when to chase the laugh and when to let the darker truth underneath it land.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

For more information: www.3chickens.com

CAST:

Matthew DiLoreto - Bronseman

Eric Kirchberger - Reginald

Audrey Rapoport - Helen

CREATIVE TEAM:

Bill Schaumberg - Writer and Director

Danny Moss - Scenic Designer

Sasha Richter - Costume Designer

Ebony Burton - Lighting Designer

Huai Huaung - Stage Manager

Matthew DiLoreto - Production Manager

Bill Schaumberg - Production Manager

Michael Wolk - Producer

Seth Nadler - Associate Producer

Denise Ganjou - Associate Producer

Allie Beckerman - Marketing Manager

Aidan Cleary - Executive Producer

Labhoise Magee - Executive Producer

Joseph Carey - Managing Director, Paradise Factory

Jodie Liebowitz - Ticketing Manager

William Shakespeare’s OTHELLO tells the story of Othello, a celebrated military general whose secret marriage to Desdemona becomes the target of the bitter and manipulative Iago. Passed over for a promotion, Iago begins planting lies and half-truths until suspicion grows into obsession, leading to one of Shakespeare’s most devastating tragedies.

Even people who have never seen OTHELLO probably know some of its most famous lines. “The beast with two backs” and jealousy as the “green-eyed monster” both come from this play, a reminder of just how deeply Shakespeare’s words have shaped our language.

One of my favorite New York summer traditions is spending an evening in Marcus Garvey Park for Classical Theatre of Harlem’s Uptown Shakespeare in the Park. There’s just something about settling into a seat as the sun goes down, the lights come up, and the city keeps moving around you. By the time the play begins, the park feels like part of the performance.

That setting couldn’t be more perfect for OTHELLO. As darkness settles over the Richard Rodgers Amphitheater, the story grows increasingly unsettling. The trees surrounding the stage, the warm summer air, and the occasional sounds drifting through the park blur the line between the play and the world around it. Instead of feeling like you’re watching a performance, it begins to feel as though you’re witnessing a tragedy unfold in real time.

Carl Cofield’s direction is confident from beginning to end. The production embraces a contemporary visual style while remaining firmly rooted in Shakespeare’s language, creating a world that feels immediate without losing the poetry that has captivated audiences for more than four centuries.

James Udom is magnificent as Othello. He begins as a man of quiet confidence, strength, and dignity before slowly unraveling under Iago’s relentless manipulation. His heartbreak is genuine, his rage is terrifying, and by the final moments, his downfall is difficult to watch.

Nick Westrate is equally compelling as Iago, never playing him as a cackling villain. His manipulation is quieter than that, making every lie and suggestion feel all the more dangerous.

The supporting cast is strong throughout, creating relationships that feel authentic and betrayals that land with real emotional weight.

Visually, the production is beautiful. The staging makes excellent use of the amphitheater, and once the sun disappears, the lighting gives the play an entirely different texture. It’s a reminder that some of the most memorable theatrical moments don’t require elaborate effects. Sometimes an open sky and a summer night are all you need.

I’ve seen enough productions of OTHELLO to know the play only works if you believe both Othello’s greatness and Iago’s ability to destroy it. This production earns both.

Classical Theatre of Harlem has done it again. OTHELLO is gripping, beautifully staged, and anchored by a remarkable performance from James Udom. Watching one of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies beneath the Harlem sky is one of those uniquely New York experiences that keeps me coming back every summer.

Final Performance - July 27* at 8:30 (production extended)

Richard Rogers Amphitheater at Marcus Garvey Park
18 Mt Morris Park W
Harlem

For more information and to RSVP:
cthnyc.org/othello

CAST:
James Udom - Othello
Nick Westrate - Iago
Isabel Arraiza - Desdemona
Gilbert Cruz - Brabantio / Gratiano, Ensemble
Hiram Delgado - Roderigo
Orlando Grant - Cassio
Keren Lugo - Emilia
Collin McConnell - Duke of Venice / Lodovico, Ensemble, U/S Iago
Rebecca Ana Peña - Bianca, Ensemble, U/S Desdemona, U/S Emilia
Christopher Then - Montano, Ensemble
Men Ca - Ensemble, U/S Othello, Movement Captain
Brynlie Helmich - Ensemble, U/S Bianca
Brady Moldrup - Ensemble, U/S Cassio, U/S Roderigo
J.B. Alexander - U/S Duke of Venice, U/S Brabantio / Gratiano

Photo Credit: Richard Termine

Agatha Christie’s THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD, adapted and directed by Mark Shanahan, brings one of Christie’s best-known mysteries to Westport Country Playhouse through August 1.

Set in the English village of King’s Abbot in 1926, the story begins with the apparent suicide of Mrs. Ferrars. Shortly afterward, wealthy businessman Roger Ackroyd is found stabbed inside his study. Everyone at Fernly Hall seems to have a secret, a motive, or a deeply suspicious relationship with money. Fortunately, retired detective Hercule Poirot has moved into the neighborhood and is considerably better at solving murders than growing vegetables.

Westport Country Playhouse has given the mystery a beautiful production. Charlie Corcoran’s grand drawing-room set is filled with towering windows, elegant arches, handsome furniture, and an adjoining writing room that keeps the murder scene in full view. It is exactly the sort of lavish country estate where rich people should be gathering for cocktails, gossip, and the occasional stabbing.

Jeni Schaefer’s costumes are equally gorgeous. Flora Ackroyd’s wardrobe is fabulous, while Gertrude Ackroyd’s extravagant clothing establishes her flamboyant personality before she has much opportunity to insult anyone. The entire production looks polished and perfectly suited to Christie’s world.

Julie Duro’s lighting is fabulously well done. One particularly effective moment comes as Poirot works through his list of suspects and the actors are illuminated individually across the stage. John Gromada’s excellent sound design gives similar emphasis to new clues, significant discoveries, and the arrival of another possible suspect. Together, the lighting and sound give the investigation a welcome sense of momentum.

The cast is terrific and handles both the comedy and the British dialects beautifully. John Rapson is an engaging narrator as Dr. James Sheppard, while Anthony Cochrane gives Poirot intelligence, restraint, and a wonderfully dry sense of humor. Cochrane gets a good laugh from the delivery of “Thinking is an admirable exercise” and later dismisses Inspector Raglan’s investigative skills by saying he has known roadsweepers with more method.

Karen Ziemba also has great fun with Gertrude Ackroyd’s carefully disguised insults. After making it clear that she finds Major Hector Blunt’s endless stories painfully boring, Gertrude hears that he has recently visited Bora Bora and replies that he “must have felt right at home.” Richard Ruiz Henry makes Blunt boisterous enough to earn the joke, and the rest of the strong ensemble fills Fernly Hall with suspicious behavior, financial trouble, secret romances, and people who should probably stop having private conversations near open doors.

The production is polished, funny, and extremely well performed. I simply found the script less engaging than I expected from a murder mystery.

The first act spends a great deal of time arranging suspects and distributing information. Much of that setup is necessary, but the investigation never develops quite the tension I wanted. Poirot questions the suspects, stories begin to unravel, and clues continue to appear, yet I rarely felt that the danger was increasing. At times, it feels less like a room full of potential murderers and more like a very attractive meeting that could have been an email.

The second act moves more efficiently as secrets are revealed and Poirot begins assembling the pieces. The final solution is clever, and the production handles the story’s famous trick effectively. Still, the journey toward that revelation is more pleasantly interesting than truly gripping.

THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD is not a bad evening of theater. It is beautifully designed, gorgeously dressed, strongly acted, and frequently funny. Westport Country Playhouse gives the mystery every possible advantage: a gorgeous production, a terrific cast, and enough suspicious behavior to fill Fernly Hall. I only wish the script had kept me guessing with a little more urgency.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Westport Country Playhouse

25 Powers Court

Westport, Connecticut

For tickets and information:

Westport Country Playhouse

PERFORMANCE SCHEDULE:

Through August 1

Tuesdays - 7:00

Wednesdays - 2:00 & 7:00

Thursdays - 7:00

Fridays - 8:00

Saturdays - 3:00 & 8:00

Sundays - 3:00

CAST:

Shereen Ahmed - Flora Ackroyd

Anthony Cochrane - Hercule Poirot

Joe Delafield - Ralph Paton

Allen Gilmore - Inspector Raglan

Erin Noel Grennan - Caroline Sheppard

Richard Ruiz Henry - Major Hector Blunt

Tom Hewitt - Parker

John Rapson - Dr. James Sheppard

Nicole Shalhoub - Helen Russell

Mark Silence - Roger Ackroyd

Katy Tang - Ursula Bourne

Karen Ziemba - Gertrude Ackroyd

CREATIVE TEAM:

Mark Shanahan - Adaptation and Direction

Charlie Corcoran - Scenic Design

Jeni Schaefer - Costume and Wig Design

Julie Duro - Lighting Design

John Gromada - Sound Design and Original Music

Seth Andrew Bridges - Fight Choreography

Bruce Warren - Assistant Director

Chloe Cobb - Props Supervisor

Kevin Jinghong Zhu - Production Stage Manager

Matthew Rohan - Assistant Stage Manager

Sarah Rachel Katz - Production Assistant

T. Charles Erickson - Production Photos

Dennis Kelly and Tim Minchin’s MATILDA THE MUSICAL follows Matilda Wormwood, a brilliant little girl born into a family that has no interest in understanding her. Her parents mock her love of books, her terrifying headmistress Miss Trunchbull treats children like pests to be crushed, and nearly every adult around her expects her to accept a world that is clearly unfair.

Matilda has other plans.

Summer Theatre of New Canaan’s production understands that the fun of MATILDA comes from watching a child realize that being small does not mean being powerless. Charlotte Surak is terrific in the title role, playing Matilda with intelligence, confidence, and just enough mischief. She never pushes too hard to make her cute or precocious. Her frustration with the adults around her feels real, which makes it especially satisfying when she begins figuring out how to fight back. She also handles Tim Minchin’s demanding score beautifully.

Surak is surrounded by adults who are either too frightened to challenge cruelty or far too ridiculous to recognize their own. Mary McNulty brings warmth and vulnerability to Miss Honey, whose kindness makes her an immediate contrast to the rest of Matilda’s world. Her scenes with Surak are among the production’s sweetest, and “My House” becomes a tender pause in a musical that spends much of its time operating at full volume.

Miss Trunchbull, of course, has no interest in tenderness. Meghan Louise Taylor is wonderfully intimidating, committing fully to every stomp, glare, and threat. The character has to be terrifying enough for the children to fear her but ridiculous enough for the audience to laugh at her, and Taylor finds that balance. Lauren Nicole Sherwood’s severe Trunchbull uniform makes her look even more imposing as she prowls around the school in search of her next victim.

Sherwood’s costumes are a major part of the production’s personality. Christopher Hudson Myers and Rachel MacIsaac Myers already make Matilda’s parents loud, selfish, and extremely funny, but their exaggerated looks push the Wormwoods even further into their own tacky little universe. Mrs. Wormwood’s outfits are gloriously excessive, with loud colors, bold shapes, and enough unapologetic glamour to be visible from several towns away. Rachel MacIsaac Myers’ dance competition sequence takes that excess and turns it into one of the evening’s funniest and most visually outrageous moments.

The Wormwoods may be terrible parents, but they are entertainingly terrible. Mr. Wormwood is dishonest, obnoxious, and personally offended by the existence of books, while Mrs. Wormwood is far more invested in dancing than in raising her daughter. Myers and Myers play them broadly without losing the strange family dynamic underneath the jokes. You can understand exactly why Matilda has started looking for emotional support elsewhere.

She finds plenty of it at the library, where Keisha T. Fraser is phenomenal as Mrs. Phelps. Fraser’s colorful costume immediately tells us that this is one adult who belongs inside Matilda’s imagination rather than outside it. Every time Matilda returns with another installment of her story, Mrs. Phelps reacts as though she is witnessing the most thrilling drama ever created. Fraser throws herself into every twist with enormous warmth, energy, and comic timing, while aerial acrobatics bring Matilda’s tale to life above and around them. The combination makes the storytelling sequences feel like fully realized adventures rather than pauses in the main plot.

The young company brings that same level of commitment to the larger musical numbers. “School Song,” “Bruce,” “When I Grow Up,” and “Revolting Children” require precision, stamina, and performers willing to attack Eric Stretch’s choreography without holding back. The children do exactly that, but the staging also gives them room to show individual personalities instead of blending into one cheerful musical-theater swarm.

Jack Ranieri makes particularly strong use of that opportunity as Bruce. The chocolate-cake sequence is already one of the musical’s biggest crowd-pleasers, but Ranieri turns it into a genuine triumph. He has a brilliant voice, terrific confidence, and the stage presence to hold the audience through a number that asks an awful lot from a young performer.

Director Allegra Libonati keeps the production moving across the enormous NCHS stage, filling it with bright scenic pieces, aerial work, energetic choreography, and a large ensemble. The scale could easily overwhelm the story, but most of the time it gives Matilda’s world the exaggerated size it needs. Everything around her feels bigger, louder, and more threatening, which makes her determination seem even more impressive.

The one moment that does get swallowed by the space is the opening birthday sequence. The table is simply too small for the giant stage, so the entire setup looks strangely out of place. It is a minor visual issue, but it stands out because Libonati and the design team use the rest of the stage so effectively.

Kevin Gleason’s lighting provides one of the production’s strongest visual ideas. As Mr. Wormwood explains Miss Trunchbull to Matilda, his shadow suddenly becomes huge and ominous across the stage. It is a simple theatrical image, but a very effective one, briefly transforming Trunchbull’s reputation into something Matilda and the audience can almost see looming over the school.

The production continues finding playful ways to use the space right through the curtain call, when the cast rides scooters across the stage while singing a reprise of “When I Grow Up” and “Naughty.” It is a joyful final burst of energy and a fitting goodbye from a show that rarely sits still for long.

Summer Theatre of New Canaan’s MATILDA THE MUSICAL is colorful, funny, and packed with talented performers, but its greatest strength is that it never loses sight of why Matilda remains such a satisfying hero. She sees cruelty, stupidity, and injustice and refuses to sit quietly while the adults make a mess of everything.

Frankly, the adults had it coming.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

NCHS Theater

11 Farm Road

New Canaan, Connecticut

For tickets and information:

STONC

PERFORMANCE SCHEDULE:

Through July 26

Fridays - 6:30pm

Saturdays - 1:30pm & 6:30pm

Sundays - 2:00pm

CAST:

Charlotte Surak - Matilda Wormwood

Meghan Louise Taylor - Miss Agatha Trunchbull

Mary McNulty - Miss Honey

Christopher Hudson Myers - Mr. Wormwood

Rachel MacIsaac Myers - Mrs. Wormwood

Cooper Sadler - Michael Wormwood / Big Kid

Keisha T. Fraser - Mrs. Phelps

Jack Ranieri - Bruce

Valentina Miller - Lavender

Miguel-Andres Garcia - Escapologist

Hannah Risner - Acrobat

CHILDREN’S ENSEMBLE:

Victoria Vartosu - Amanda

Ever Brave Savage - Nigel / Bruce Understudy

Camilo Velasquez Escamilla - Eric

Delphine Day - Alice

Nora Grace Blair - Hortensia

Carlos Velasquez Escamilla - Tommy

Brielle Shupin - Onstage Swing for Matilda, Nigel, Eric and Alice

Coralie Myers - Onstage Swing for Lavender, Amanda, Hortensia and Tommy

Everly Alters - Playground Child

ADULT ENSEMBLE:

Cristyn Dang - Parent / Big Kid / Loud Dancer / Mrs. Phelps Understudy

Anthony Cataldo - Parent / Judge / Sergei / Voice of the Escapologist / Miss Trunchbull Understudy

Olivia Pryor - Parent / Big Kid / Judge / Henchman / Voice of the Acrobat / Miss Honey Understudy

Keara Sweeney - Parent / Big Kid / Loud Dancer / Mrs. Wormwood Understudy / Dance Captain

Nathan Iles - Parent / Big Kid / Loud Dancer / Henchman

Riley Schauer - Parent / Big Kid / Loud Dancer / Swing / Assistant Dance Captain

Madeline Benoit - Parent / Big Kid / Loud Dancer / Henchman

Christian Libonati - Children’s Entertainer / Cook / Juggler / Big Kid / Judge / Henchman / Mr. Wormwood Understudy

André Pernell Williams - Doctor / Big Kid / Loud Dancer / Henchman

Noah Roderiques - Rudolph / Big Kid

Nicholas Mohamad - Mechanic / Swing

CREATIVE TEAM:

Dennis Kelly - Book

Tim Minchin - Music and Lyrics

Chris Nightingale - Orchestrations and Additional Music

Allegra Libonati - Director

Eric Stretch - Choreographer

Robert Head - Music Director

Kevin Gleason - Lighting Designer / Co-Technical Director

Daniel Bria - Sound Designer / A1

Lauren Nicole Sherwood / Diva Star Production - Costume Designer / Wardrobe Supervisor

Miguel-Andres Garcia - Aerial Act Designer

William / ZFX - Flight Director

Ryan Shreve - Projection Designer

Fiona Stevens - Properties Master

James Hart - Technical Director

Alan J. Stogin - Production Stage Manager

Grace Griffin - Assistant Stage Manager

Gabi Simmons - Associate Director

Wojcik Casting - Casting

Henry Tate - Performance Conductor

Emily Lomnitzer - Assistant Music Director

Derek Shaw - Associate Sound Designer

Katie Fabel - Dialect Coach

Claire Parelli - Assistant Props

Brian Canese - Assistant Technical Director

Natasha Fenster - Assistant Wardrobe Supervisor

Tyson R. Francis - Stagehand / Running Crew

Alexandra Parker - Projection Board Operator

Ike Morales - Lighting Programmer

Dhruv Bhalla - Assistant Director

Jimi Kulig - A2 Sound

Rebekkah Hurlbert - Wardrobe Staff

Emma Turner - Wardrobe Staff

Isla Campbell - Spot Operator

Linkin Alexander Wong - Spot Operator

Julianna Moore - Spot Operator

Emma Silo - Cover Spot Operator

Maddy Conron - Child Wrangler

Melanie McMurry - Child Wrangler

Zachary Whitlock - Facility Manager

PRODUCTION SUPPORT:

Brad Harder - Company Manager

Ella Raymont - Social Media / PR

Christian Libonati - Marketing / Website

Victor de Castro - Web and Graphic Design

Dutch Doscher - Photography / Show Photography

Front Row Theatricals - Set

James Hart - Set Enhancements

Daniel Bria Sound - Audio System

Dutch Doscher - Production Photos

Maeve Z. O’Connor’s CLUB 27: A ONE WOMAN CONFESSIONAL CABARET gives us a nameless singer caught somewhere between a cabaret set, the morning after a disastrous party, and one very stylish emotional collapse.

Faith Pasch plays the Host, a twenty-seven-year-old performer surrounded by bottles, clothing, accessories, and confetti scattered across the stage. She is trying to make it through her set while a phone keeps ringing, her pianist keeps prodding her, and the legends of Janis Joplin, Amy Winehouse, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and the rest of the infamous 27 Club hang heavily over the evening.

Pasch has a great sound. Her voice is soulful, powerful, and perfectly suited to this music. She does not try to copy the original artists, which is exactly the right choice. Instead, she brings her own personality to every number while still respecting the performers connected to these songs. It feels like a genuine tribute rather than celebrity karaoke.

She is also a terrific storyteller. Pasch moves easily between funny, messy, defensive, seductive, frightened, and exhausted without ever losing the audience. Even when the Host insists that she has everything under control, it is very clear that control packed its bags several songs ago. Pasch wears the chaos like couture.

O’Connor’s writing is superb. The script moves between music history, personal confession, rock mythology, and very dark humor without becoming a lecture with a playlist attached. The discussion of how different songs resemble different kinds of intoxication is intriguing, while the stories involving Janis Joplin’s treatment in college and Amy Winehouse’s ballet slippers add real emotional weight. Those details bring these women back down to earth instead of leaving them frozen as tragic icons.

The relationship between the Host and Alex Parrish’s Pianist gives the show its tension. At first, he seems like a sarcastic accompanist who would prefer that she stop talking and get back to the music. As the evening continues, it becomes much less clear whether he is supporting her, tempting her, or quietly encouraging her worst habits. Parrish keeps him calm and difficult to read, which makes the character much more effective.

The endlessly ringing phone gradually becomes the thing waiting outside the performance. It represents responsibility, help, reality, and the possibility that life might continue after the music stops. The Host keeps avoiding it because answering could mean admitting that the party has gone on long enough.

CLUB 27 does not romanticize the idea that suffering makes someone a better artist. It looks at the way audiences turn pain into mythology once the person experiencing it is no longer around to object.

That is rich material for a cabaret, and O’Connor and Pasch handle it with intelligence, humor, and enough glitter to keep the evening from feeling like a memorial service.

Faith Pasch delivers it all like a queen.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Paradise Factory

64 E 4th St

For tickets and more information:

Manifestival 2026

PERFORMANCE SCHEDULE:

Thursdays - Saturdays at 9:45

Sundays at 3:00

Final performance - August 9

CAST & CREATIVE:

Faith Pasch - The Host

Alex Parrish - The Pianist

Maeve Z. O'Connor - Writer

Kara Alexandra - Director

Gabriel Greenwood - Arranger

Evan Nicholas - Makeup and

Wig Design

Sara Hansen - Lighting Design Dot Scuotto - Sound Design

Parker Jenkins - Stage Manager

Danielle MacMath - Social Media

Coordinator

Kyle Watkins - Promotional

Photography

The Diamond Mesh Inc. - Producer

CLUB 27: A ONE-WOMAN CONFESSIONAL CABARET is part of Manifestival, Diamond Mesh Inc.’s summer celebration of new work at The Paradise Factory. The festival gathers an eclectic collection of plays, cabarets, readings, screenings, and special events, creating a home for artists who prefer their theater bold, funny, unconventional, and occasionally a little chaotic.

*Photos provided by the production.

Justin Jager and Michael Gardiner’s piss.jpg (working title) begins like a serious American kitchen sink drama and wastes no time sending that idea completely off the rails.

Martin sits at the table reading a newspaper. Roger walks in looking like something has exploded in his hands. Nobody asks the obvious question. From there, the two brothers tumble through an hour of bricks, eggs, invisible guests, confused identities, accidental murder, sudden birthdays, weddings, therapy, and conversations that keep restarting before either man can remember what they were discussing.

It is delightfully stupid.

Jager and Gardiner have terrific comic chemistry, committing to every ridiculous turn as though they are performing the final scene of Death of a Salesman. Their timing is sharp, their blank stares are lethal, and several of their circular exchanges feel like a gloriously scrambled Gen Z cousin of Abbott and Costello’s famous “Who’s on First?” routine. Names, identities, questions, and answers keep bouncing between them until language itself throws up its hands and leaves.

The cardboard kitchen is the perfect setting for this nonsense. The table, chairs, cabinets, drawers, and sink look as though someone raided a recycling bin and decided to mount the next great American drama. It immediately tells us that realism has left the building and probably taken the budget with it.

Most of the show is wildly entertaining. I laughed a lot, and the apparent randomness is far more carefully constructed than it first appears. The dialogue may sound like two sleep deprived men inventing a play as they go, but making chaos land this precisely takes serious skill.

There are also moments when the stupidity drops away and something sadder slips through. Beneath all the insults and confusion, Martin and Roger are brothers who want to connect but have no idea how to do it without ruining the moment. The show rarely sits in those feelings for long before returning to another absurd bit, but those flashes give the madness a little more weight.

One choice pulled me completely out of the fun. Both characters hold a firearm to their own heads, and I found those images extremely uncomfortable. I can only speak for myself, but the realistic looking firearm felt out of place in a production where nearly everything else is deliberately artificial. Had it been a cardboard cutout matching the furniture, I think the moment would have remained inside the ridiculous theatrical world the show had created. Instead, the image felt more disturbing than anything surrounding it.

piss.jpg (working title) might not be for everyone. Its humor is loud, absurd, repetitive, and proudly ridiculous. I enjoyed it, even if I did not love every choice. Jager and Gardiner are two committed performers who know how to make stupidity look like an art form and I had a very good time watching the show completely lose its mind.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Paradise Factory

64 E 4th St

For tickets and more information:

Manifestival 2026

PERFORMANCE SCHEDULE:

Thursdays - Saturdays at 8:00

Sundays at 7:30

Final performance - August 9

CAST & CREATIVE:

Justin Jager - Writer/Performer

Michael Gardiner - Writer/Performer

Daniel Yaiullo - Director

Dot Scuotto - Stage Manager

Sara Hansen - Lighting Designer

Alexandra Brokowski - Voice Over

Jay Michaels - Press Representative

Kyle Watkins - Promotional Photographer

Matt Bader - Producer

Faith Pasch - Producer

Danielle MacMath - Associate Producer and Social Media

Diamond Mesh Inc. - Producer

piss.jpg (Working Title) is part of Manifestival, Diamond Mesh Inc.’s summer festival at The Paradise Factory. The lineup brings together an eclectic mix of new plays, solo shows, staged readings, screenings, and one-night-only events, all with a strong emphasis on comedy and unconventional storytelling.

*Photos provided by the production.

Pamela Gray’s A WALK ON THE MOON follows Pearl Kantrowitz, a Brooklyn housewife spending the summer of 1969 with her family at a Catskills bungalow colony. While her husband returns to the city during the workweek, Pearl meets Walker Jerome, a handsome traveling blouse salesman who introduces her to Jack Kerouac, Woodstock, and several possibilities that have very little to do with women’s clothing.

As the country prepares to put a man on the moon, Pearl begins wondering whether there might still be time for her to go somewhere too.

This is rich material for a musical: marriage, motherhood, sex, generational conflict, political upheaval, and one extremely attractive man arriving with a rack of blouses.

Pamela Gray, adapting her own screenplay, gives the production a terrific book. It is funny, sexy, and emotionally complicated without turning Pearl’s story into a simple contest between a dull husband and a thrilling stranger. Marty is not cruel. Walker is not salvation in tight pants. Pearl’s dissatisfaction comes from realizing that she built her life before anyone encouraged her to imagine how large it might become.

Talia Suskauer is radiant as Pearl. She gives the character warmth, humor, desire, and just enough uncertainty to keep her choices from feeling predetermined. Pearl loves her family, but she is beginning to recognize how much of herself has been packed away beneath the laundry, children, meals, and expectations of a respectable Brooklyn marriage.

Her early number “When Did You Know the Moon Was Possible?” captures the musical’s central idea beautifully. As Pearl watches Neil Armstrong preparing to enter the unknown, she wonders when he first learned that something so impossible might be within his reach. Men were being trained to walk on the moon. Women like Pearl were being trained to make dinner.

The metaphor is not subtle, but it is a good one.

Sam Gravitte brings plenty of easy charm and sex appeal to Walker, the Blouse Man whose arrival immediately becomes the most important local event since indoor plumbing. Gravitte’s chemistry with Suskauer is convincing because Walker does more than flirt with Pearl. He listens to her. He gives her books. He treats her curiosity as something worth encouraging.

He also looks like a man who could sell a macramé halter top to anyone with a pulse.

Max Chernin gives Marty enough humor and tenderness to make Pearl’s conflict matter. The musical would lose much of its emotional weight if he were simply an unpleasant husband waiting to be abandoned. Chernin makes it clear that Pearl and Marty have built a loving life together. The problem is that Marty has grown comfortable inside it while Pearl has begun to feel the walls.

Sophie Pollono brings youthful fury to Alison, Pearl’s politically outspoken teenage daughter, while Oscar Williams is charming as Ross, the colony’s aspiring “Big Jewish Hendrix.” Their storyline gives the show a younger version of the freedom Pearl is only beginning to consider. Alison assumes she has the right to question everything. Pearl is still discovering that she is allowed to question anything.

Andréa Burns provides strong comic support as Lillian, Pearl’s mother-in-law, tarot reader, family historian, and reliable reminder that every family problem has probably happened before. Burns delivers the humor with dry confidence while making it clear that Lillian understands far more than the younger characters initially realize.

Sheryl Kaller’s direction keeps the production warm and accessible while allowing Pearl’s awakening to remain genuinely sexual. The show does not apologize for her desire, but it also refuses to pretend that desire automatically provides an easy answer.

Tal Yarden’s scenic and video design does a lot of the heavy lifting, with metal lawn chairs, an old payphone, weathered light posts, and Apollo 11 playing on the televisions. It immediately places us at a late-1960s bungalow colony without making the stage feel like a museum exhibit. Ricky Lurie’s costumes add plenty of color, tie-dye, fringe, and all the groovy little details you want from the period.

The cast looks groovy. The story feels rooted in 1969.

The music does not always get there.

AnnMarie Milazzo’s lyrics are thoughtful and specific, particularly when they explore Pearl’s frustration with the narrow possibilities offered to women of her generation. The company also sings the score beautifully. Suskauer, Gravitte, and Chernin all have gorgeous voices, and individual numbers such as “When Did You Know the Moon Was Possible?” and “Big Jewish Hendrix,” make an impression in performance.

But the score needs more variety.

Many songs share similar musical shapes and emotional builds, making them pleasant in the moment but difficult to distinguish afterward. The melodies are easy on the ears, yet I rarely felt the folk, rock, protest, or psychedelic energy promised by a story set beside Woodstock in 1969.

This becomes especially noticeable because music plays such an important role in the story. Alison talks about Joni Mitchell and Jimi Hendrix. Ross dreams of becoming a counterculture musician. Walker represents a freer, less conventional world. Woodstock is practically happening in the backyard.

The score clearly wants to capture a moment when music felt capable of changing people’s lives. I just wish more of it had the same sense of freedom, urgency, and possibility that the characters keep describing.

I also wanted a stronger musical contrast between Pearl’s familiar life at the bungalow colony and the new world opening around her. As Pearl becomes bolder, the score should feel as though it is loosening its collar along with her. Instead, it remains polished even when the story is ready to get a little dirty.

That keeps A WALK ON THE MOON from reaching its full musical potential, but the book, performances, and central metaphor remain strong enough to carry the evening.

Gray has written a funny, compassionate story about a woman discovering that wanting more does not mean she never valued what she already had. Suskauer gives that awakening a beating heart, Gravitte supplies the heat, and Chernin makes the consequences feel real.

The moon landing may belong to the astronauts, but this wonderfully groovy awakening belongs entirely to Pearl.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Performances through August 22

Laura Pels Theater

111 W 46th St

For tickets and more information:

A Walk on the Moon

CAST:

Talia Suskauer - Pearl

Max Chernin - Marty

Sam Gravitte - Walker

Andréa Burns - Lillian

Sophie Pollono - Alison

Oscar Williams - Ross

Leo Caravano - Danny (Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday evenings)

Reid Gardner Clarke - Danny (Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday matinees)

Andrew Faria - Irv

Megan Kane - Bunny

Caroline Pernick - Eleanor

Becca Suskauer - Rhoda

Michael Tacconi - Stan

David R. Gordon - Neil

Tovah Feldshuh - Voice of Mrs. Fogler

UNDERSTUDIES:

Becca Suskauer - Pearl

David R. Gordon - Marty

Michael Tacconi - Walker

Jodi Bluestein - Rhoda, Bunny, Eleanor, and Lillian

Tucker Gold - Ross

Ellie Schwartz - Alison

Richard Spitaletta - Irv, Stan, and Neil

CREATIVE TEAM:

Pamela Gray - Book and Additional Lyrics

AnnMarie Milazzo - Music and Lyrics

Sheryl Kaller - Director

Josh Prince - Choreographer

Andy Einhorn - Music Supervisor and Arranger

Moon - Orchestrations

Jillian Zack - Music Director

David R. Gordon - Dance Captain

Tal Yarden - Scenic and Video Designer

Ricky Lurie - Costume Designer

Robert Wierzel - Lighting Designer

Justin Stasiw - Sound Designer

Matthew Armentrout - Hair and Wig Designer

Charlotte Bravin Lee - Makeup Designer

Rick Sordelet / Sordelet Inc. - Fight and Intimacy Coordinator

Billy Jay Stein and Hiro Iida for Strange Cranium - Electronic Music Design

Rosie Glen-Lambert - Associate Director

Alison Solomon - Associate Choreographer

Lily Tomasic - Associate Scenic Designer

Taylor Edelle Stuart - Associate Projection Designer

Natalie Loveland - Associate Costume Designer

Eric Norbury - Associate Lighting Designer

Tracy Cowit - Associate Sound Designer

Eliza Simpson - Dialect Coach

Geoffrey Nauffts - Dramaturg

kayla brooke - Script Consultant

The TRC Company / Merri Sugarman, CSA - Casting

Kelly Stillwell - Production Stage Manager

Denise Cardarelli and Tyler Larson - Assistant Stage Managers

Sightline Productions - Production Supervision

Live Wire Theatrical / Roy Gabay - General Management

Zhiwei Ma - Company Manager

Roy Gabay - Executive Producer

Ruth and Stephen Hendel - Producers

Joan Marcus - Production Photos

…fortunately, STALIN: THE MUSICAL knows that.

Austin Olson and James Navan’s supremely entertaining political satire traces Stalin’s rise from ambitious small-town boy to ruthless Soviet dictator through rap, romance, broad comedy, energetic choreography, and a gleeful disregard for historical restraint. A weary professor repeatedly steps in to correct the record, but the musical keeps pulling her back into the madness.

From the full-company opening number about the Russian Revolution, the production establishes its style immediately. Lenin enters shirtless beneath a long trench coat, wearing a backward Yankees cap and displaying a Lenin tattoo across his chest before launching into a rap. Stalin soon joins him, and Russian history becomes an unapologetically campy production number.

Megan Geiger is terrific as Stalin, playing him as insecure, ambitious, socially awkward, and increasingly intoxicated by power. Geiger’s confident comic performance keeps the character entertaining without asking the audience to forget who he becomes. His childish need for praise and control may be ridiculous, but the consequences are not.

Lara Strong is equally funny as Dr. Miranda Larson, the increasingly exasperated professor assigned to keep the history accurate. Strong delivers the facts with perfectly dry timing while the musical interrupts her lectures, ignores her corrections, and eventually drags her into the choreography. Her appearances give the production enough historical grounding to keep the satire sharp without slowing its pace.

The score repeatedly applies familiar musical-theater styles to wildly inappropriate material. Stalin and Kato sneak away from their date to consult friends hiding in separate bathrooms. Stalin and Nadya fall for each other during a chaotic hospital sequence. A bright production number transforms propaganda and control of the press into cheerful entertainment. The jokes are broad, but the show commits to them so fully that resistance becomes pointless.

Mark Melton is a delight every time Lenin appears, while Logan Reeder brings enthusiastic loyalty and strong comic timing to Stalin’s devoted aide. Analyse Capodifero and Katie King provide warmth and humor as Kato and Nadya, and the hardworking ensemble tears through students, politicians, journalists, soldiers, doctors, and peasants with impressive energy. Alexandra C. Perlman’s choreography keeps the production moving and finds comedy in nearly every transition.

Beneath the glitter, sex jokes, dance breaks, and historical nonsense, STALIN: THE MUSICAL makes a serious argument. Dictators are not born as untouchable monsters. They are insecure people who learn how to exploit bureaucracy, propaganda, loyalty, fear, and the unwillingness of others to stop them while stopping them is still possible.

The brilliance of the production is that it communicates that warning without sacrificing the stupidity of its central premise.

Should Joseph Stalin’s life be a musical? Absolutely not!

Did I aggressively like this one? Most definitely!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Chain Theatre

312 W 36th St., 3rd Floor

Remaining Performances: July 19 & 22, 2026

For tickets and information:

Stalin: The Musical

In development as part of the Chain Theatre’s 2026 Summer One-Act Festival

CAST:

Megan Geiger – Joseph Stalin

Logan Reeder – Stalin’s Aide

Lara Strong – The Historian

Mark Melton – Vladimir Lenin/Ensemble

Analyse Capodifero – Kato/Ensemble

Katie King – Nadya/Ensemble

Tom O’Leary – Winston Churchill/Ensemble

Will Cobb – Stalin’s Dad/Ensemble

JQ Hennesy – Stalin’s Mom/Ensemble

Theo Boyd – Ensemble

Claire Wagner – Ensemble

Hannah Zeldin – Ensemble

Emily Renison – Ensemble

CREATIVE TEAM:

Austin Olson – Book and Lyrics

James Navan – Music

Ben Kaplan – Additional Music

Spencer Giles – Additional Book

Austin Olson – Director

Alexandra C. Perlman – Choreographer

Lyric Jones – Props

Alice Mckay – Costumes

Aaron Gutterman - Production Photos

Drew & Lea Lachey’s LABEL•LESS brings together a company of young singers and dancers to examine bullying, racism, sexism, homophobia, disability, depression, body image, immigration, and the pressure to meet other people’s expectations.

Through personal monologues, original music, familiar pop songs, and contemporary dance, the performers share stories about the labels placed upon them and argue for a world in which people are seen as complete human beings rather than reduced to a single identity.

It is a message worth hearing.

The problem is that LABEL•LESS keeps delivering that message in almost exactly the same way.

Someone steps forward and shares a painful experience. The experience leads into a song. The company dances. Another performer steps forward. Then another song. Then another dance. The pattern becomes so predictable that when two men begin talking about being gay, you hardly need a Playbill to guess that Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” is waiting nearby.

The subjects change, but the rhythm rarely does.

Many of the monologues address serious and complicated issues in broad inspirational language. The performers tell us that we are worthy, that everyone deserves to be seen, and that together we can create a better world.

I agree.

I simply wished the writing dug further beneath those statements and gave us more of the messy, specific experiences that made each performer’s story uniquely theirs.

Kiwi Villalobos comes closest in a monologue about arriving from Mexico on a full scholarship and taking a cleaning job near his school to afford food and rent. His classmates treat him as an intellectual equal until they see him sweeping floors and emptying garbage. Suddenly, he is no longer their peer. The details make the story personal rather than merely representative.

“Family Heirloom,” written by Maliyah Gramata Jones and performed by Nasir Butler and Cayla Nichole Harris, is another strong section. It follows two Black people through ordinary parts of their day as restaurants, security guards, neighbors, and televised police violence remind them that others are constantly responding to the color of their skin. It creates recognizable moments rather than simply announcing an issue.

The material involving disability also leads to some of the production’s best stage work. Kaylee Bays speaks directly about her wheelchair, rejecting pity and explaining that what some people see as a limitation gives her freedom. In a beautiful duet with Kendall Maley, the wheelchair becomes an extension of the choreography rather than a prop or obstacle.

That sequence also shows Lea Lachey’s choreography at its strongest. At other points, the movement begins to resemble a polished competition routine: technically impressive, full of energy, and occasionally disconnected from the emotional weight of the material surrounding it.

The industrial scaffolding, stairs, and movable platforms give the production a strong visual frame. The performers climb and move through the structure while projections spread words and images across the stage, their bodies, and the floor. The opening sequence clearly establishes the concept.

Perhaps a little too clearly.

Within the first few minutes, LABEL•LESS has explained who these performers are, what the evening believes, and what it hopes audiences will learn. The remaining hour and a half mostly repeats that thesis through different subjects rather than building toward a new understanding.

Thankfully, the cast brings enough vocal power to keep the evening moving.

Micah Day has an easy warmth and serves as the production’s closest thing to a guide, accompanying himself on guitar and delivering a vulnerable section about depression before singing “Anything Worth Holding Onto.” Abby Docherty has a terrific voice, particularly during the material about body image and self-worth. Paola Marcías brings power to “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World,” while she and Cayla Nichole Harris give “Rise Up” the emotional lift the production has been reaching for.

Aaron Gillis Jr.’s performance of “A Change Is Gonna Come” is another highlight. He has a rich, commanding voice and does not need elaborate movement or projections to hold the stage. When the entire company joins together, the blend of voices can be genuinely beautiful.

These performers are talented, and the show is sincere. There will be audience members who recognize themselves in experiences involving family rejection, bullying, depression, racism, misogyny, disability, or impossible standards of perfection. There is value in telling someone who feels invisible that they are seen.

But by trying to represent nearly every form of struggle, LABEL•LESS spreads itself too thin. We learn what has hurt these people, but not always enough about who they are beyond that hurt.

That creates the show’s central contradiction. LABEL•LESS asks us not to reduce people to labels, then organizes much of its evening around performers stepping forward to explain the label that has shaped their experience.

The message is admirable. The voices are terrific. Several moments of dance are genuinely beautiful. But after nearly two hours of monologue, song, dance, and repeat, I was ready for LABEL•LESS to stop telling me that everyone has a story and allow a few of those stories to become a more fully developed piece of theater.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Duke on 42nd Street

229 West 42nd Street

For tickets and information:

labellessmusical.com

Final performance is August 29

CAST:

Lauren Maria Abraham

Kaylee Bays

Justin Daxt Bobbs

Nasir Butler

Antonio Davis Jr.

Micah Day

Abby Docherty

Aaron Gillis Jr.

Cayla Nichole Harris

Diana Hutchinson

Iz Lachey

Kendall Maley

Paola Marcias

Bianca Mio

Nate Promkul

Ethan Eisaiah Rualo

Colton Smith

Kiwi Villalobos

CREATIVE:

Drew Lachey and Lea Lachey - Writers and Directors

Lea Lachey - Choreographer

Traci Swain - Select Choreography

Jen Irvine - Costume Design

Aaron Space - Lighting Design

Colle Bustin - Sound Design

Brave Berlin - Projection Design

Holly Buczek, CSA / HDB Casting - Casting

Kelsey Harlow - Stage Manager

Photo Credit - Angie Lipscomb

ADDITIONAL COMPANY CREDITS:

Kendall Maley - Dance Captain

Antonio Davis Jr. - Vocal Captain

Carlwell Redmon - Company Manager

Stuart Metcalf - Production Manager

Hillel Friedman, Carlwell Redmon and Evan Bernardin Productions - General Management

SWINGS:

Lauren Maria Abraham

Nate Promkul

Whoopi Goldberg’s THE WHOOPI MONOLOGUES brings five characters from the solo shows that launched her Broadway career back to the stage, now divided among five performers rather than played by Goldberg herself. At the performance I attended, Kara Young, Kai Heath, Danielle Pinnock, Kerry Washington, and Kecia Lewis each stepped through a dressing-room door and took possession of one of Goldberg’s creations.

The characters could hardly be more different. There is Fontaine, a junkie with a Ph.D.; a little girl dreaming of long blonde hair; a Jamaican woman whose move to America becomes an outrageous adventure; a teenage surfer speaking in an endless stream of “likes” and “okays”; and Lurleen, a Southern woman fighting her way through menopause one hot flash at a time.

Each story begins as comedy, but Goldberg waits until the audience is comfortable before revealing the pain underneath the jokes. That is why the material still works so beautifully.

Some references clearly belong to another era, but the subjects do not. Race, beauty, immigration, reproductive freedom, aging, loneliness, and the exhausting business of being a woman in a world that frequently refuses to listen have not exactly gone out of fashion.

Director Whitney White frames the production as a backstage gathering. Studio Bent’s set places five dressing-room doors across the stage, allowing each character to emerge as though she has been waiting all these years for another chance to speak. The company appears together during transitions, creating a sense of connection among women whose stories might otherwise seem unrelated.

Kara Young begins the evening as Fontaine, and from the moment she arrives, she owns the room. Fontaine is loud, profane, suspicious, funny, and far more educated than anyone expects. Young finds the intelligence, fear, and tenderness beneath the swagger, then shifts from uproarious comedy to something far more painful without ever forcing the turn.

She is an absolute superstar.

At my performance, Kai Heath appeared as Blonde Girl in place of Dominique Fishback. Heath is wonderfully believable as a child convinced that a shirt over her head has transformed into long, luxurious blonde hair. The monologue is funny until we understand why this little girl wants to look different. Heath never pushes the sadness, which makes it land even harder.

Danielle Pinnock arrives next as Jamaican Lady, and the woman is hilarious. Her story about leaving Kingston with an elderly American man she calls the “Old Raisin” becomes a parade of culture shock, soap operas, lingerie, and sexual education. Pinnock is playful, uninhibited, and in complete command of the room.

Kerry Washington plays Surfer Girl with a Valley Girl accent so complete that she becomes almost aggressively perky. Then the story changes. Washington never announces that the comedy is over. She lets the character continue speaking in the same sunny rhythm as the reality of her situation comes into focus. The contrast is devastating.

Kecia Lewis closes the evening as Lurleen, a woman experiencing menopause with a large fan, a short temper, and enough material about feminine products to make an entire room howl in recognition. Lewis has the audience screaming one moment and completely silent the next as Lurleen’s frustration opens into something more vulnerable.

THE WHOOPI MONOLOGUES is not an evening of impersonations. These performers do not attempt to reproduce Goldberg’s original performances. Instead, each brings her own comic instincts, physicality, and emotional life to the material.

That choice reveals just how durable Goldberg’s writing remains. These women are funny, complicated, wounded, and fully alive.

Whitney White has created a production that honors Goldberg’s original work while allowing a remarkable new company to claim it as its own. Kara Young, Kai Heath, Danielle Pinnock, Kerry Washington, and Kecia Lewis are sensational individually and thrilling together.

It is hilarious, moving, and beautifully performed.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater

Lincoln Center

150 West 65th Street

For tickets and information: lct.org

CAST - JULY 15, 2026:

Kai Heath - Blonde Girl

Kecia Lewis - Lurleen

Danielle Pinnock - Jamaican Lady

Kerry Washington - Surfer Girl

Kara Young - Fontaine

CAST:

Dominique Fishback

Kecia Lewis

Danielle Pinnock

Kerry Washington

Kara Young

UNDERSTUDIES:

Kai Heath - Blonde Girl and Fontaine

Denise Manning - Blonde Girl, Jamaican Lady and Surfer Girl

Pavar Snipe - Lurleen

CREATIVE:

Whoopi Goldberg - Playwright

Whitney White - Director

Studio Bent - Scenic Design

Qween Jean - Costume Design

Cha See - Lighting Design

Fan Zhang - Original Music and Sound Design

Hana S. Kim - Video Design

Nikiya Mathis - Hair and Wig Design

Bernard Telsey, CSA and Kristian Charbonier, CSA - Casting

Tiffany N. Robinson - Stage Manager

Anthony Rigaglia - Assistant Stage Manager

PRODUCTION:

Lincoln Center Theater - Producer

Whoop, Inc./Tom Leonardis and Simpson Street - Producing Partners

Matthew Markoff - Company Manager

Paul Smithyman and Polina Minchuk Macklin - Production Management

Showtown Theatricals and James R. Geoghegan - General Management

Robert Jones - Chief Marketing Officer

AKA - Advertising

DKC/O&M - Public Relations

Photo Credit - Angela Marie Orellana

There is a familiar temptation in autobiographical solo comedy to confuse confession with revelation. Liv Rocklin avoids that trap in An American (Not) in Paris, a buoyant, sharply observed hour that transforms personal misfortune into an unexpectedly resonant meditation on ambition, control, and the peculiar heartbreak of growing up. Blending stand-up, storytelling, and seven original songs performed with little more than a guitar, a keyboard track, and abundant charisma, Rocklin charts the collapse of an idealized Parisian fantasy into something richer than wish fulfillment: acceptance. Told through the seven songs, six languages, and five diagnosed—or perhaps delightfully self-diagnosed—conditions, the production embraces the French philosophy of c'est la vie with wit that never sacrifices emotional honesty.

Rocklin begins with the certainty of youth, recounting her long-awaited study abroad semester in Paris in the spring of 2020, where she imagined herself living out a Lizzie McGuire fantasy. Instead, the pandemic abruptly sent her back to America just weeks after arriving, leaving behind not only the city she had romanticized but also an eccentric Parisian romance complete with a memorable visit to a meat locker and the reassuring promise that she would not be murdered. It is precisely the kind of absurd anecdote that Rocklin mines for comic gold, allowing the audience to laugh at the extravagance of youthful expectations while recognizing the genuine grief beneath them. A later return to Paris proves equally revealing, as she stubbornly refuses to behave like a tourist, clinging to an imagined intimacy with a city that has long since moved on without her.

What distinguishes Rocklin's writing is its remarkable balance of bravado and vulnerability. She portrays herself as an overachieving Gen-Z perfectionist convinced that every setback is simply another competition to be won—whether the challenge involves study abroad, Weight Watchers, therapy, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, or simply surviving adulthood with dignity intact. Her comic persona frequently veers toward glorious self-aggrandizement, yet the exaggeration always conceals genuine self-awareness. The audience laughs not because Rocklin believes herself infallible, but because she understands exactly how ridiculous that belief can become. Her lyrics are consistently clever, her storytelling tightly constructed, and the evening gradually shifts from rapid-fire punchlines into an affecting coming-of-age story about loneliness, identity, and relinquishing impossible standards.

Rocklin is equally impressive as a performer. Fringe theatre inevitably courts the unexpected, yet she possesses the effortless command of a seasoned stand-up, folding every interruption into the fabric of the performance without ever breaking the autobiographical spell. The audience happily joins in singing the infectious refrain of "C'est La Vie," a communal flourish that encapsulates the show's generous spirit. Directed with a light touch by Hallie Rae Sebastian, the production never overcomplicates its modest staging, allowing Rocklin's presence and wit to remain its undeniable center.

Although echoes of Rachel Bloom and Bo Burnham inevitably come to mind, Rocklin's voice ultimately belongs to no one but herself. An American (Not) in Paris resembles the kind of tightly crafted comedy special that keeps viewers laughing before quietly catching them off guard with unexpected emotional clarity. Its observations about mental health, lost youth, romantic fantasy, and the slow realization that the world does not revolve around one's carefully laid plans feel refreshingly universal. By the time Rocklin reaches her final embrace of life's glorious unpredictability, one leaves smiling—not because every problem has been solved, but because she has discovered the liberating wisdom hidden inside the simplest of French expressions. C'est la vie, indeed.

An American (NOT) In Paris continues through July 26, 2026

East to Edinburgh Festival continues through July 26, 2026

For tickets, visit www.59e59.org

Presented by Alice Zelenko as part of 59E59 East to Edinburgh

Written and Performed by Liv Rocklin

Directed by Hallie Rae Sebastian

59E59 Theaters, Theater C,

59 East 59th Street, in Manhattan

Thur JULY 9 8:30pm 

Sat JULY 18 6:30pm

Sun JULY 26 2:30pm

Some movies become so woven into popular culture that people recognize the quotes without ever seeing the film. “Good evening, Clarice.” “It puts the lotion in the basket.” Even Buffalo Bill dancing in front of the mirror while “Goodbye Horses” plays has become an instantly recognizable image. Jonathan Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs is one of those movies.

Michael Kinnan’s Goodbye Horses: An Unauthorized Retelling of Jonathan Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs, now playing at The Brick Theater, takes that familiar story and condenses it into a seventy-minute one-man performance that recreates nearly every memorable moment with equal parts precision, affection, and theatrical absurdity.

Rather than simply spoofing the Oscar-winning thriller, Kinnan races through the film scene by scene, transforming himself into Clarice Starling, Hannibal Lecter, Buffalo Bill, Jack Crawford, Chilton, Catherine Martin, and seemingly everyone else who wanders into frame. There are no elaborate costume changes or backstage breaks. Once the show begins, it barrels forward until the credits roll.

What impressed me most wasn’t how many voices he could imitate - it was how clearly he differentiated them.

Each character has a distinct physicality, rhythm, and vocal quality, making it surprisingly easy to follow a story populated by so many familiar faces. Hannibal Lecter, in particular, is mesmerizing. Kinnan captures that unnerving combination of intelligence, charm, and menace that makes Lecter so compelling, and there were moments where it genuinely felt as though he were speaking directly to individual audience members.

The show is packed with details for fans of the film. Famous lines land exactly where audiences want them, iconic scenes are recreated with uncanny accuracy, and even tiny character moments receive loving attention. The audience around me constantly bounced between laughter and recognition as favorite moments appeared one after another.

At first I wondered whether the production would be little more than an extremely faithful retelling of the movie. That concern gradually disappeared as Kinnan’s performance revealed itself to be the real event. Watching one performer seamlessly bounce between dozens of characters becomes its own kind of theatrical spectacle. The only time the illusion wavered for me was during a few of the deliberately rough, haphazardly sewn prop bodies. They briefly pulled my attention away from Kinnan’s performance before he quickly drew me right back in. The technical challenge alone is impressive, but Kinnan also finds humor in the film’s rhythms without ever reducing it to broad parody.

Directors Tom DeTrinis and Michael Kinnan wisely keep the staging simple, allowing the performance to remain the focus while Nicole Bernardini’s props and scenic elements, Kate McGee’s lighting, and Rosana Cabán’s sound design supply just enough theatrical magic to keep the story moving at a cinematic pace.

I left The Brick with an unexpected reaction: I wanted to revisit The Silence of the Lambs. That’s probably the highest compliment I can give this production. Rather than replacing the film or mocking it, Goodbye Horses reminds audiences why the original became a classic while proving that one remarkably gifted performer can hold an audience spellbound for seventy minutes with little more than a stage, a handful of props, and an astonishing command of character.

The Brick Theater

Brooklyn, NY

Performances through July 25, 2026

Tickets and information:

The Brick Theater

CAST & CREATIVE:

Michael Kinnan – Adaptation & Performer

Ted Tally – Original Screenplay

Tom DeTrinis & Michael Kinnan – Directors

Nicole Bernardini – Set, Prop & Graphic Design

Allison Hewitt – Costume Design

Kate McGee – Lighting Design

Rosana Cabán – Sound Design

Bryan Carpender – Production Photography

Jonathan Spector’s BIRTHRIGHT follows six Jewish friends whose lives become intertwined after participating in Birthright Israel, the free educational trip that has introduced hundreds of thousands of young Jewish adults to the country. Over the next eighteen years, Spector revisits the group at pivotal moments in their lives as marriages, careers, parenthood, loss, political upheaval, and the changing relationship between American Jews and Israel reshape friendships that once seemed unbreakable.

On paper, BIRTHRIGHT sounds like a political drama.

It is, eventually.

But Spector wisely begins somewhere much more familiar.

The first act unfolds almost like a very Jewish version of Friends or Seinfeld. Six young adults gather, tease one another, flirt, argue, and spend an enormous amount of time simply talking. They discuss dating, careers, family expectations, and the shared experience of their Birthright trip. At first, it almost feels deceptively casual, as though we are eavesdropping on an ordinary reunion rather than watching the foundation being laid for something much larger.

That deliberate pacing may frustrate some audiences. The first act is heavy on conversation and relatively light on dramatic action, and it takes time before the play reveals exactly where it intends to go.

What becomes increasingly clear, however, is that BIRTHRIGHT isn’t interested in arguing one political position over another. Instead, Jonathan Spector explores what happens when politics collides with years of shared history, forcing lifelong friends to question not only what they believe, but what those beliefs ultimately cost them.

Each act leaps forward several years. The world changes. The characters change with it.

Parents die.

Relationships fail.

Children are born.

Careers rise and collapse.

COVID arrives.

Then comes October 7, 2023, when Hamas launched a deadly attack on Israel, killing civilians and taking hostages, setting off the war in Gaza and sending shockwaves through Jewish communities around the world.

Conversations that once felt theoretical suddenly become deeply personal. Positions that friends once debated over dinner now carry the weight of lived experience, exposing fractures that have been quietly forming for years.

Rather than presenting political disagreements as abstract talking points, Spector roots them in people who genuinely care about one another. The most compelling moments are rarely the loudest arguments. They are the quieter scenes where lifelong friendships strain under the weight of grief, ideology, and competing understandings of identity.

The script demands an extraordinary amount from its cast. Zoë Winters (Chaya), Molly Bernard (Izzy), Molly Ranson (Alona), Hale Appleman (Lev), Eli Gelb (Noah), and Nate Mann (Emerson) spend eighteen years growing alongside these characters without ever losing sight of who they are beneath the changing circumstances. By the final act, every disagreement lands because the friendships feel authentic. These people don’t argue like stage characters. They argue like friends who know exactly where all the emotional landmines are buried.

Liz Larsen (Deborah) also makes a memorable impression, her recurring appearances quietly signaling the end of each chapter in these friends’ lives. It’s a deceptively simple theatrical device that gives the audience a clear sense of time passing before the story moves forward again.

Teddy Bergman’s assured direction keeps the sprawling narrative focused on the relationships at its center, while Scott Pask’s scenic design and David Bengali’s projections help chart both the passage of time and the increasingly digital way these friends communicate with one another.

Not every conversation lands with equal dramatic urgency. At times, the play can become so invested in lengthy discussions that scenes begin to resemble panel discussions more than dramatic conflict. Some debates stretch longer than necessary, occasionally slowing the momentum as characters explain positions rather than allowing emotion to do the work.

Spector deserves considerable credit for resisting the temptation to offer easy answers. Every character believes they are acting from a place of genuine conviction, and their politics grow out of family, faith, grief, identity, and lived experience rather than simple ideology. Whether you agree with them is almost beside the point. Understanding why they believe what they believe is where the play finds its greatest emotional power.

That may ultimately be the play’s greatest strength.

By the end, BIRTHRIGHT isn’t just about politics.

It’s about what happens when history enters the group chat—and whether friendship can survive after the world changes.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Robert W. Wilson MCC Theater Space

511 W 52nd Street

For tickets and information: BIRTHRIGHT

Written by: Jonathan Spector

Directed by: Teddy Bergman

Presented by: MCC Theater

Venue: The Robert W. Wilson MCC Theater Space

Through: August 23, 2026

Run Time: 3 hours, 20 minutes (including two 15-minute intermissions)

Cast:

Hale Appleman - Lev

Molly Bernard - Izzy

Eli Gelb - Noah

Liz Larsen - Deborah

Nate Mann - Emerson

Molly Ranson - Alona

Zoë Winters - Chaya

Creative Team:

Scenic Design - Scott Pask

Costume Design - Clint Ramos

Lighting Design - Natasha Katz

Sound Design - Lee Kinney

Projection Design - David Bengali

Wig & Hair Design - Robert Pickens

Makeup Design - Nikoletta Skarlatos

Voice & Text Coach - Gigi Buffington

Intimacy Coordinator - Alicia Rodis

Props Supervisor - Samantha Shoffner

DEI Consultant - Nicole Johnson / Harriet Tubman Effect

Casting - The Telsey Office

Photo Credit - Emilio Madrid