Full disclosure: I am not a fan of the shows of playwright Peter Lefcourt and director Terri Hanauer. Their prior productions, such as The Assassination of Leon Trotsky: A Comedy and Café Society, have struck me as style blatantly masquerading as substance, with more money than
It was rather fitting that on the night of the first presidential debate I found myself sitting in the audience, lean as it was, for The Echo Theater Company’s staging of Mary Laws’ Blueberry Toast. Like The China Syndrome—the 1979 Jane Fonda thriller about corruption and
A Mexican Trilogy: An American Story, a multi-award winning work by Evelina Fernández is fiercely ambitious, thoroughly and intelligently mounted on a slick two tiered set by Francois-Pierre Couture, artistically lit by Pablo Santiago, surfeit of great singing and talented actors such as Robert Beltran,
Anaïs Nin’s life and legacy has had more ups and downs than a pogo stick competition at a school for hyper-active youths. Critical appraisal of her works Delta of Venus, Little Birds and others was usually vicious and largely dismissive most of her life. When her novel,
When the topic turns to the worst series ever, one is walking a tightrope of wet tissue.
The Goodwill store outlets are a treasure trove for the adventurous DVD hunter. After extended practice I can breeze through the stacks of offerings like I was Summa Cum Laude at the Evelyn Woods Speed Reading University. My practiced eyes are trained to waft over the glut
These days, every comedian and commentator seems to be paraphrasing Bette Davis in All About Eve: “Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy election.” For 2016, I would add: cinch up your Kevlar vest and tighten the chin strap on your battle helmet.
Well, what with the solid production at the Odyssey Theatre Ensemble of the seldom seen Kingdom of Earth, and now the Fountain Theatre’s staging of Baby Doll, hard core fans of Tennessee Williams must be thinking they’ve died and gone for gumbo in the bayou. Now
I hate writing bad reviews. Honest. I’d rather write glowing reviews, pouring forth accolades and singing praises to high heaven. I truly would. Now there are two exceptions to this ‘I hate,’ etcetera business. If the play is a deceitful con job that has duped the innocent and the ignorant,
Playwright Laurel M. Wetzork has filled Blueprint for Paradise, now playing at the Hudson Theatre, with fascinating tidbits plucked from Los Angeles and Southern California history. The ruins of Hitler’s California “White House,” the first African-American to be granted membership in the American Institute of Architects,
