The odd tale deftly weaves the mythic and the mundane
Whatever you do, don't look too closely at your motel bedding
Jodi Kellogg prepares to fill Mae West's feather-bedecked dress
Audiences storm the stage. Actors suffer gastrointestinal distress. Backstage confessions of theater gone terribly, terribly wrong.
From escapist entertainment to aesthetic ecstasy: Twenty-nine writers script valentines to twelve months of culture
The best and worst of 150 nights spent in a dark room. Plus: Dramatic hypotheses, and thespians speak out.
Tom Stoppard scripts a love song to classical literature; Gwendolyn Schwinke revisits Sodom
Chez Pierre serves a feast of comic clowning; Leitmotif's cast makes the most of dramatic table scraps
Ten Thousand Things follows a madwoman; Theatre Unbound rides a subway to fabulousness
Outward Spiral examines a transgendered vaudevillian; the Jungle visits the wounded world of Tennessee Williams
Mary Worth's The Gods Are Thirsty makes history; University Theatre's The Dybbuk gives up the ghost
The amazing Jodi Kellogg changes her parts more often than most people change their socks. Who is she this time?
Floating Molly Brown at the Dorothy Day Center; staging Ntozake Shange in the age of the poetry slam
Luigi Pirandello's mystifying swan song, The Mountain Giants, ponders the stature of the artist
Rhombus Theatre's Lebensraum beckons Jews back to the Fatherland; Park Square's Taking Sides tries the morality of the devil's maestro
Lipstick on His Collar: Ron Duffy and Nancy Gormley in Dear James.
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