You know how three-quarters of the way through most conventionally plotted movies it looks as if things couldn't get more bleak for the protagonists? Lance Edmands's haunted hard-times drama Bluebird starts at that point, and then sinks from there, seemingly out of some conviction t...

The new Brooklyn is generally derided as a wilderness of double-wide strollers, young men with the facial hair of Canadian loggers circa 1852, and artisanal everything. But in Wild Canaries, a modestly scaled murder mystery-comedy from writer-director-star Lawrence Michael Levine, t...

We tend to accept that certain plays carry a weight that makes them permanently essential. The Iceman Cometh is one of them. With its quasi- biblical title, Eugene O'Neill's barroom epic whispers of salvation and promises a deep dive into human character that few contemporary plays...

What kind of superhero does Brooklyn need? A subway speeder-upper? An affordable-housing magician? In Brooklynite, a new musical by Peter Lerman and Michael Mayer (Mayer also directs), six ordinary borough dwellers gain superpowers — fire, water, invisibility — when an asteroid...

What if you had to write a memoir but lacked scintillating real-life events to document? Amateur fantasy-fiction writer Jo Darum (Anna Camp) finds herself in precisely that predicament in Nick Jones's enjoyable new meta-play, Verité, now at LCT3.

Two gray-suited publi...

You could call All Our Happy Days Are Stupid an adolescent play — in the best sense. Two of the protagonists are self-possessed twelve-year-old schoolmates. When one of them disappears in Paris during a family vacation, both of their mothers take off too, heading to Cannes in ...