Comedy
The Life
Porter revises the tragic comedy of The Life, a story of the world’s oldest profession based out of Times Square in NYC in the 70s.
Edward A Kliszus, Editor-in-Chief / Music and Arts Critic
Porter revises the tragic comedy of The Life, a story of the world’s oldest profession based out of Times Square in NYC in the 70s.
Set in a tacky rental in Palm Springs, the action takes place today – this weekend. A group of men puts together a post-pandemic getaway.
Lucas Hnath’s A Doll’s House – Part 2, is an exploration of the complexity of human emotions, discrete frailty, dreams, ambitions, freedom, and needs emanating from the configuration of the nuclear family, in this instance, with three children and no dog. The four-member cast carried the 90-minute production beautifully, masterfully maintaining their respective roles, engaging the heart and imagination, and taking us with them as they traveled effortlessly in an inventive dreamscape through time.
The journey of our lives, searching for answers to explain our past, present, and future, is comparable to Merriam-Websters’s definition of sand being “the moments of a lifetime.” Characters Angela, Odessa, and Adah hunt for answers on navigating humanity in sandblasted. Audiences will laugh as they relate to life’s subtle emotions exposed throughout this production by playwright Charly Evon Simpson.
This talented, and one could say overachiever, has pulled together poignant and cheerful snippets of her life’s experiences based on her book, “Approval Junkie: Adventures in Caring Too Much,” to make her Off-Broadway debut in a one-woman show. The story isn’t just about caring too much. It’s about caring what other people think, and finding the solution to happiness is about loving yourself and fulfilling your expectations.
We get to eavesdrop on a foursome from 100 years ago. We see what was in style in Palm Beach and how the privileged conducted themselves. Secrets unfold, and the audience gets an intimate glimpse into relationships along with a history lesson.
It was a dark, bone-chilling, windy night in the West Village to see Now Serving: A Guide to Aesthetic Etiquette in Four Courses. Entering with apprehension into this intimate, warm, carefully choreographed enclave from the world of misogyny, I was met with smiling, gentle greetings enveloped in aural musical reminders from the 1940s and ’50s. From greeters to booth operators and ushers dressed in fanciful costumes I got a token, a prize, and a choice of refreshment from three options – beer, mints, or popcorn. One could not help but smile.
