Oscar E Moore

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HANGMEN – A minor McDonagh off Broadway

February 20th, 2018 by Oscar E Moore

You might want to see this Royal Court Theatre production of HANGMEN more than once at the Atlantic Theater Company on West 20th Street.  And not because it is written by Martin McDonagh.  And not because of all the excellent hype surrounding it.

You might want to revisit HANGMEN to try to understand more clearly what exactly is going on with the various characters involved.  Mr. McDonagh isn’t known for his clarity.  He is best remembered for his dark sense of humor, violence and sometimes implausible plot twists.

First and foremost you may comprehend better the many words of the actors with their extremely heavy accents the second time around.  Volume is not the problem.  The accents are.  Particularly those of Alice (Sally Rogers) and daughter Shirley (Gaby French).  One or two phrases understood here and there make it almost impossible to follow the bumpy McDonagh road of which “hangman” is better:  Harry (Mark Addy) reputed to be the second best or his archrival Albert Pierrepoint “numero uno” (Maxwell Caulfield) with all its underlying complications.

But I am getting ahead of myself and I’ll attempt to keep this brief.

England. 1963.  Hanging is the order of the day.  Hennessy (Gilles Geary) is about to hanged not hung for a crime he most probably did not commit by Harry (Pierrepoint was off or indisposed that day) and his prissy assistant Syd (Reece Shearsmith).  He isn’t going to die without a fight.  Told to relax and get it over with – “you could have been dead by now,” we are off and running.  Violence and gallows humor.

Fast forward two years.  The grimy, drab and water stained cellblock is (through the magic of stagecraft and set designer Anna Fleischle) replaced by a pub now owned and operated by said Harry and his raunchy wife Alice with fifteen year old daughter (whose self-esteem is lower than the incoming tide) in tow.  The set which offers yet another surprise location is the hero of this production.

Bar flies are in attendance.  As in CHEERS!  My favorite is Arthur (John Horton).  As do they all, he drinks his pints but has trouble hearing.  Even he has trouble understanding the accents.  Words and phrases and jokes must be repeated to great effect.

HANGMEN as touted is not hysterically funny.  Arthur is.  I kept wondering what it is exactly they are all drinking as I tried valiantly to follow the goings-on.  Not a good sign.

Into this mix marches Michael Caine – a complete stranger.  Rather Johnny Flynn as Mooney.  Immediately bringing to mind a young Mr. Caine in his prime.  Mooney is menacing and moody.  And according to his own evaluation “not creepy.”  He is looking to rent a room.  And shake things up.  Alice (the wife) is looking to have a little fun.  When next we see her she is all dolled up and ready to rock with this young newcomer.  But he sets as his target shy Shirley and he persuades her to meet him for a date.

Shirley disappears. But not before a reporter interviews Harry – as capital punishment has been abandoned and he is now out of a job.  The published newspaper interview puts him back in the spotlight.

Somehow (my favorite word when there is no obvious explanation) Mooney and prissy Syd hook up.  That’s all I’m allowed to divulge.  Even if I could I wouldn’t be able to as the rest becomes rather murky.  There is however another hard to digest hanging.

This unsatisfying melodrama replete with ominous thunder and lightning is directed by Matthew Dunster.  There is a running “cock” joke, a few red herrings and many unanswered questions.

The limited Off Broadway running through March 7th is SOLD OUT.  However, it will be opening on Broadway in the near future.  Hopefully these notes will aid in your understanding.  Hang in there!

I was quite disappointed.  At the Linda Gross Theater 336 West 20 Street.  2 hours 15 minutes – one intermission.


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Photos:  Ahron R. Foster

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PARTY FACE – Group Therapy Dublin Style Starring Hayley Mills Off-B’way

February 18th, 2018 by Oscar E Moore

Five Irish women.  Family and frenemies and one germ-a-phobic manic-depressive obsessive compulsive acquaintance.  Girl talk ensues.  Men in and out of their lives.  Chatty.  Gossipy.  Bitchy.  With an assortment of accents/brogues.  Nibbling and imbibing.  Loosening up.  Group therapy Dublin style.

At a party to celebrate Mollie Mae’s new kitchen – not her most recent bout with having a nervous breakdown because her unseen husband has flown the coup we, one by one, meet the assembled group.  After a while you will consider the fleeing husband lucky.  How Alan lasted 16 years is a wonder.

Wine glasses and multiple bottles of wine on view on the lovely set designed by Jeff Ridenour as we meet a subdued and glum looking Mollie (Gina Costigan) prepping for her guests wearing a wrist bandage and a frown.

You’ll find out why eventually and her reason for being so glum as she awaits the arrival of Carmel her sophisticated well preserved albeit annoying take charge judgmental mum (Hayley Mills looking lovely in pale pink silk Capri pants and white blouse) and her sarcastic sister Maeve (Brenda Meaney looking very butch) and her always positive but annoying neighbor Chloe (Allison Jean White looking like a spaced out socialite) whom I have nick-named Ms. Magenta.  Costume by Lara De Bruijn.

It is only near the end of Act I that Mollie Mae’s hospital mate Bernie (Klea Blackhurst) looking very much like Josephine the Plumber; bringing along her own yogurt and roll of plastic wrap arrives – just in time – to fix a leaky sink that explodes.  Don’t ask.

This group of women deserve each other.  We don’t.  After two acts of this ridiculous chit chat I would suggest avoiding them.  As has the aforementioned unseen Alan leaving behind an unseen topiary of a large penis and balls.

The characters as written by playwright Isobel Mahon are quite superficial.  We aren’t drawn in.  We don’t care.  The actors do their best.  But they can only do so much with what is not supplied by Ms. Mahon.

As directed by Amanda Bearse in TV sit-com mode (all we need is a laugh track) they become caricatures and tend toward the farcical which fights against any attempt at naturalism in the script.

To wit:  Act II opens with a conga line to “Turn The Beat Around” – there is a pillow fight, someone throws up, and Hayley Mills conks out on the sofa after some weird “find yourself” meditation lesson offered by the ever floating Chloe.  It’s not in the least bit amusing.

Through April 8th at City Center Stage II

Photos:  Jeremy Daniel

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John Lithgow: STORIES BY HEART – Ham and wry

January 17th, 2018 by Oscar E Moore


There’s some good news and some rather dreary news to report about this Lithgow family “show and tell” Roundabout production that has taken roughly ten years to get to the American Airlines Theatre via its bumpy albeit successful off and on road tour cross country.  A One Act version appeared at Lincoln Center Theater in 2008.

John Lithgow:  STORIES BY HEART has all the appearance of a bus and truck tour.  Minimal set.  Minimal props.  One actor.

And what actor could resist being that “one” actor?  Center stage.  In the spotlight.  “Me” – John Lithgow –the epicenter of my own universe for almost two hours with one intermission.

All eyes and in this particular case all ears focus on Mr. Lithgow as he fondly recalls his dad Arthur – also an actor and director and reader of short bedtime stories to John and his siblings as they moved around the Midwest settling in Ohio where dear old daddy ran a Shakespeare Festival.  He sounds like quite the character!

They were a warm tightly knit family and I wish more emphasis had been put on them in Mr. Lithgow’s introductions as the two stories that make up the crux of the evening are not as interesting as his mini family memoir.

The two ancient and hard to follow stories performed (not merely read) from a family relic – TELLERS OF TALES – which appears on stage with Mr. Lithgow along with the spirit of his dad are THE HAIRCUT by Ring Lardner and P. G. Wodehouse’s UNCLE FRED FLITS BY.

It is only the acting/performance of Mr. Lithgow that barely keeps the production above water.  There is no denying that he is a consummate actor.  A great mimic.  And mime.  With great comic timing.  A man of many faces and accents.  Charming.  Engaging.  But that is not enough as he becomes the characters in the above mentioned lost tales.  At least they lost me.

The audience reacts with much laughter in Act II – not by the narrative but by what Lithgow does with the characters – including a parrot.  One watches the watch to see how much longer this will go on.

Lighting designer Kenneth Posner helps in this respect.  As the stories wind down so do the lights.

So there is a light at the end of the tunnel to alert you back to where you have zoned out from by focusing on the sound effects as he shaves and snips and gossips in the first monologue and goes all out with the farcical goings on in the second.

As he mentions, “One man’s rose is another man’s garlic.”  You’ll have to decide for yourself if interested.

Mr. Lithgow, ham that he is, is wonderful – along with his wry take on the proceedings.  But the production and choice of tales just doesn’t cut the mustard.  Directed by Daniel Sullivan.

At The American Airlines Theatre.  A Roundabout Theatre Company production.  Through March 4th.


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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FARINELLI AND THE KING – the music cure: a disappointing experiment

December 23rd, 2017 by Oscar E Moore

For those of you who can’t get enough of Handel sung beautifully by the renowned countertenor Iestyn Davies as the “singing” Farinelli (a renowned 18th century castrato) hie thee over to the Belasco Theatre (till March 25th) to hear this wondrous voice that calmed the nerves of one King Philippe V of Spain in what is now called bipolar disorder.

In fact, in this production there are indeed two Farinellis.  The “singer” and the “actor.”  The King may have suffered from mood swings but Farinelli suffered from having a split personality.   It’s a bit confusing.  But beautiful to look at and listen to.

Famous beyond his wildest dreams he only desired to escape his voice and be a regular “man.”  The actor Farinelli is portrayed by an equally wondrous Sam Crane.  They look alike.  They act alike.  Somewhat like conjoined twins Daisy and Violet in SIDE SHOW.

Bedecked in beautiful brocade period costumes by UK Costume Coordinator Lorraine Ebdon-Price and bathed in the golden glow of candles and amber lighting design by Paul Russell and set in a sumptuous surrounding of a period theater within the lovely Belasco theatre – this play with music unfurls and/or implodes – as some audience members seated on either side of the stage crane their necks to see what all the fuss is about.

It’s a fascinating subject that is skimmed over in Cliff Notes style by novice playwright Claire Van Kampen – a composer and historical music scholar.  Unfortunately the play is NOT the thing here.   It is its renowned star Mark Rylance.

Who happens to be Claire Van Kampen’s husband portraying King Philippe V in all his wacky glory: tics, pauses, asides, tantrums and underlying charm and wit that Mr. Rylance is famous for and could act the part in his sleep.  In fact, he spends much of this time in a nightshirt abed.

It is a golden missed opportunity that leaves so many questions unanswered that I urge anyone who is thinking of attending FARINELLI AND THE KING (which would not be high on my to-do list) to first read the very informative insert by David Cote enclosed in the Playbill program.

The King’s doctor (Huss Garbiya) sees no cure and along with Chief Minister Don Sebastian De La Cuadra (Edward Peel) they are determined to get him off the throne as they see him as unfit to rule.

When all else fails his devoted second wife Isabella Farnese (a calm and more than adequate Melody Grove) travels to London, hears Farinelli’s voice and somehow persuades him to leave his career to tend to the King believing this celestial voice will help soothe the King.  He does.  Why?

Most of Act II is in the countryside where all three commune with nature, experiment with the cure and kibitz with the audience after all the flickering candles have been replaced anew during intermission.  There is a sublime scene between Isabella and the two Farinellis.

Director John Dove has seen fit to include some silly sight gags and an Act I finale worthy of Cirque du Soleil.

The King remarks that Farinelli’s singing “makes it possible to live in this world” – and so it is with visiting this Globe production imported from London.  The power of music to heal is undisputed but it can also lull you to sleep.

At certain performances the singing Farinelli is portrayed by James Hall.


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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METEOR SHOWER – A Steve Martin conundrum hits Broadway

December 16th, 2017 by Oscar E Moore


Twenty minutes into this 80 minute puzzling and slight but bloated idea penned by Steve Martin, there I sat – fourth row on the aisle – at the Booth Theatre – wondering what was happening as other members of the audience giggled and guffawed at the nonsense happening on stage.

Had I entered some twilight zone where Beethoven’s Fifth blared and stars raced across the backdrop of the sleekly designed Ojai home (inside and out) by Beowulf Boritt of real life stars Corky (Amy Schumer perky and pony-tailed) and Norm (Jeremy Shamos – master of the quadruple take)  as they eagerly await their star guests for the evening Gerald (an over-the-top Keegan-Michael Key) and Laura (Laura Benanti – looking very First Lady Trump); wondering who sent the bouquet of three large eggplants without a card that sits alongside the stuffed celery sticks?

Celery sticks aren’t the only things stuffed in this production.  Jerry Zaks, King of “do anything for a laugh” and I mean “anything” attempts to even outdo himself.  Some things work, most things don’t.

I have a good sense of humor.  But it isn’t Steve Martins.  A comic who made a name for himself on SNL doing outrageous skits, employing sight gags and sexual innuendos that sometimes fell flat but that the audience adored.  So if you like all that stuff “Meteor Shower” is for you.

It’s a cliché-ridden sex fantasy farce about a married couple who have obvious problems and have been to joint therapy.  Corky has been a cannibal and Norm is Normal or as Normal as one can be in La La Land.

The other couple could be their subconscious selves or just two annoying newly made friends that cause sparks and unusual couplings before the evening is finished.  Gerald is a bombastic know-it-all braggart and Laura is a beauty with a razor sharp tongue and stare.

College frat humor at best.  The audience really started to perk up with the announcement that one of the men has “an enormous dick” – which can be a huge advantage or disadvantage depending on how one uses it.

How to get through a marriage circa 1993 Hollywood style.  Fight, therapy, make believe, do drugs, drink, fight, make-up, threesomes, switch mates or just try to write about it in a self-help way.

It’s all a surreal pseudo-intellectual gimmick portrayed in short quick and repetitive scenes of the arrival of the guests that wears thin very quickly.

Without the name of Steve Martin on the script and the four popular stars signed on I do not believe that the long list of producers would have given it a second thought.

Best line – “Just rub it around the rim.”   Enough said.

Limited engagement through January 21.


Photo:  Matthew Murphy

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SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS – Palace Theatre transformed into Day-Glo theme park for Bikini Bottom

December 12th, 2017 by Oscar E Moore

Who knew?  Who knew that a simple sponge living in a pineapple at the bottom of the sea in a town called Bikini Bottom could erupt on Broadway at the Palace Theatre as an ingenious, put-a-smile-on your-face, wildly imaginative, bouncy, pun-filled extravaganza that breeds one show-stopping production number after another – “a non-stop cartoon meets honest human feelings” with a score written by a slew of famous artists that somehow sounds cohesive and melodic that sets just the right tone all around?

Tina Landau knew, that’s who!  The mastermind behind this theatrical coup (conceived and directed) based on the Nickelodeon series by Stephan Hillenburg with a could-be-edited book by Kyle Jarrow that deliberately and successfully throws every gimmick into the pot, coming up with a delicious, savory and insane Day-Glo stew.

The not so simple sponge is SpongeBob SquarePants – the ever optimistic hero of this opus – portrayed by Ethan Slater making a tremendous, auspicious Broadway debut.

He is more than wonderful.  He is a lovable triathlon champion of the arts.  Singing, dancing, and gymnastics seem second nature to him.  He is charming to boot.   No better sponge to have as a friend.  And we all root for him to win!  And he does!

His fellow sea creatures all propel the plot along.  Mount Humongous threatens to erupt and destroy all unless someone can save the day.  It’s not Mighty Mouse but SPONGEBOB to the rescue.

The standout cast includes Patrick Star (Danny Skinner) his BFF – Squidward Q. Tentacles (a scene stealing Gavin Lee) who sports four toe tapping legs – Lili Cooper as Sandy Cheeks a squirrel and scientist who comes up with the solution even though she becomes an outcast for being different – the money hungry Eugene Krabs (Brian Ray Norris) his daughter Pearl Krabs (Jai’Len Christine Li Josey with a voice that can be heard echoing in Hackensack) and the evil one-celled Plankton named Sheldon (Wesley Taylor).

Plus The Electric Skates, a corps of sardines and Patchy the Pirate (a show within a show standout) – all of them cavorting on the monumental set design by David Zinn bookended by a Rube Goldberg contraption that has to be seen to be enjoyed.

Mr. Zinn also did double duty on the inventive costumes in a kaleidoscope of colors of which there seem to be hundreds – not nearly as many, however, as the ever shifting light cues designed by Kevin Adams.

Tom Kitt has pulled all the various genres of music together by the various artists.  Favorites include “Hero is My Middle Name (Cyndi Lauper/Rob Hyman) “I’m Not a Loser (They Might Be Giants) and “(I Guess I) Miss You (John Legend) and the amazing “Bikini Bottom Day” (Jonathan Coultron) that allows choreographer Christopher Gattelli’s dancers to strut their stuff to thunderous applause.

This is a fun musical for everyone:  Young and those old but still young at heart.

Stand up and cheer for optimism, persistence, friendship and imagination.  Highly recommended.  One intermission.  2 ½ hrs.


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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THE PARISIAN WOMAN – Bland: 4 yawns starring Uma Thurman

December 11th, 2017 by Oscar E Moore

You might be interested in the fact that ultra-cool socialite Chloe (Uma Thurman) one half of a Washington D.C. power couple – the other half being her successful well connected tax attorney truly understanding husband Tom (Josh Lucas) have an open marriage – fooling around with others is acceptable.

And at the age of 25 spent some time in Paris where she obviously learned the art of using her assets to manipulate others to obtain what she wants; boasts a tattoo of a baguette (location not divulged) lending little credence that she is truly a Parisian woman.

That’s about as Parisian as she gets.  Although she is sleek and chic it is difficult to believe that everyone falls madly, insanely in love (or is it lust?) with her at the drop of a beret.

Case in point:  Peter (Martin Csokas) a banker and long-time tortured to the point of distraction lover who has been given a key to her lovely Town house for their trysts (most probably in Georgetown) beautifully appointed by Derek McLane.

What a bamboo fire-screen is doing atop a piece of furniture in the barely visible offstage room is questionable.   No matter.  Any distraction from the stilted soap opera dialogue and contrived plot is most welcomed.

The hard to be believed plot centers around her husband wanting to be nominated to the 4th Circuit Court of Appeals and devious Chloe using all her wiles to get this accomplished – threatening to blackmail a new friend Jeanette (Blair Brown) who adds some spice of her own to the proceedings.  She is close to the President and has “influence.”  Her smart Harvard educated daughter Rebecca (Phillipa Soo) soon falls under the spell of Chloe…

In this drawing room dramedy playwright Beau Willimon can’t decide if it’s a comedy or a drama.  We get a little of both.  I suppose he’s made so much money with his HOUSE OF CARDS that he feels he doesn’t have to deliver the theatrical goods if he’s delivered Uma as its star – peppering the plot with snide Trump barbs and bits of “infamous catch phrases” that the audience desperate for something to latch onto laps up like parched kittens.

The direction by Pam MacKinnon is boring.  It’s a long 90 minutes without a break.

The characters are not believable.  Nor are their relationships to one another.  They appear to be play acting.  Not real human beings.  They drink a lot.  And lie a lot.  Only Ms. Soo makes a vain attempt to flesh out her role.

If so inclined, this banal production is at the newly renovated Hudson Theater through March 11 where the seats are comfortable.  At least.

Adapted loosely from Henry Becque’s 1885 “La Parisienne” – a comedy in three acts.  It has lost a lot in translation.  It might even be sub-titled “Jumping on the Trump Bash-Wagon.”  But jumping on that wagon does NOT even a mediocre play make.  Pretending to be a pot-boiler this is a very slow cooker.  Quel dommage!


Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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ONCE ON THIS ISLAND – spreading an aura of enchantment

December 7th, 2017 by Oscar E Moore

A perfect cast.  A perfect score.  A perfect story of forbidden love on a hurricane ravaged island in the French Antilles.  There are no commercials and no intermission at Circle in the Square – just 90 enchanting minutes of clear sailing from start to finish in a production directed by the imaginative Michael Arden that oozes truth and honesty with more than a few Caribbean flourishes.

Based on the novel “My Love, My Love” or The Peasant Girl by Rosa Guy – this musical adaptation by Lynn Ahrens (Book & Lyrics) and Stephen Flaherty (Music) was first produced in New York in 1990.  We must be thankful for its return in a perfect theater to house it.  It was well worth the wait to hear this magical, sensual and mystical tale seamlessly retold.

As the survivors of a massive hurricane literally pick up their lives around the sand covered stage – cleaning up debris and fearful of any further sound of thunder – they are smiling – happy to be alive after such a disaster – drying out their clothing, tending the chickens and a goat, cooking in a kettle drum and singing an anthem to life “We Dance.”  What better way to overcome what the god’s have delivered to them.

A quartet of gods: Agwe – God of Water (Quentin Earl Darrington) Pape Ge – Demon of Death (Merle Dandridge) Asaka – Mother of the Earth (a sensational Alex Newell – halting the proceedings with roars of approval from the audience) and the lustrous Erzulie – Goddess of Love (Lea Salonga) that the superstitious inhabitants both fear and honor on this island of “two different worlds” – the peasants “black as night” and the lighter skinned descendants of the original French planters.

As a survivor – a little girl Ti Moune (Emerson Davis) is adopted by Mama Euralie (Kenita R. Miller) and Tonton Julian (Phillip Boykin) whose story is then retold as an older Ti Moune (a ravishing and feisty Hailey Kilgore) saves the life of Daniel (Isaac Powell) a wealthy light skinned boy and then falls helplessly in love with him.

A love that cannot be.  If you cannot believe in this love then all is finished but in the casting of these two excellent performers there is no doubt about their heartbreaking love for one another.

The native choreography by Camille A. Brown is exceptional and thrilling to watch.  Costumes by Clint Ramos whimsical, brightly colored and true to character.  Lighting by Jules Fisher & Peggy Eisenhauer transforms the various moods and locations beautifully.  Scenic design – Dane Laffrey.

So what are you waiting for?  An invitation from the gods?  Please go see this beautiful production of ONCE ON THIS ISLAND.   Highly recommended.


Photos:  Joan Marcus

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LATIN HISTORY FOR MORONS – too much of a good thing at Studio 54

November 21st, 2017 by Oscar E Moore

Remember the ad campaign for real Levy’s Jewish Rye Bread?   “You don’t have to be Jewish to love Levy’s Real Jewish Rye.”  Well you don’t have to be Latino to love John Leguizamo’s one man marathon, semi bi-lingual, semi-autobiographical mostly entertaining history lesson – but it wouldn’t hurt.

He is charismatic, funny, and knowledgeable.  A great storyteller and mimic.  Full of energy.  Fully in control of his adoring fans as he makes his entrance nattily dressed in crumpled slacks, vest and tie like some tired professor right off of the Santa Maria.

As it turns out he is not a fan of Columbus and all that we’ve been told about him in school only skims the surface.  Professor Leguizamo is here to set the record straight.   And to make certain we honor Latinos and all their accomplishments.

And in doing so to find a suitable Latino hero for his son who has been bullied at school.  This is the very slight plot line that sets Leguizamo off on his diatribe of almost two hours without an intermission.

Although some of his most ardent fans in the audience do not need an official intermission as they freely get up, leave and return as if they are at some rock concert with drinks in hand to help them guffaw at the various characters that the Professor brings into existence with the help of some hats and wigs and a double sided blackboard that becomes a tool to inform with various pastel colored chalks.

The performance covers almost all of Hispanic History – which reminded me of my school days in Social Studies class when my teacher who was also charming and charismatic went on a bit too long and I couldn’t wait for the bell to ring to change classes.

Senor Leguizamo no matter how good he is and he is very good – has not learned that brevity is the soul of wit and probably is unaware of KISS – Keep it short and simple.

A couple of Trump and Weinstein references are thrown in for good measure.  But too much time is spent with the Incas and his son slamming his bedroom door.  I think that was when the natives got restless.

A few instructions on how to behave as an audience might be in order.

Mr. Leguizamo also does a mean cha cha cha, rumba and samba dance break that had his fans ready to join in, in this sometimes very funny but overly long production where he keeps his obvious anger in check.  Briskly directed by Tony Taccone.

I left the show thirsty for a cold beer and some nachos.

Extended through Feb 25    www.latinhistorybroadway.com

Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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November 18th, 2017 by Oscar E Moore


Tulis McCall is unbelievable and unabashedly honest and funny to a fault.  If you are feeling the onset of old age (and who isn’t) you will definitely get a shot of adrenalin in seeing ALL IN GOOD TIME expertly written and performed with great élan.

A one woman of a certain age (WCA) rant about death, life, blow jobs and not letting another precious moment of your very precious life be put off.  Do not postpone.  Do pass GO.  Do collect whatever you want to collect.

Live life to the fullest. NOW.  Do what you have always wanted to do if you haven’t already done so.  And write your own obituary!  Forget about – “all in good time” – the expression NOT this very astute and hysterically funny one hour one woman diatribe.

Written and performed by Tulis McCall.  Directed by Jon Lonoff.  United Solo 2017.  DO NOT MISS THIS.  Oops!  You already have.  Hopefully additional performances will ensue.

The Playroom Theater  December 11 & 12 Tickets $13.00


151 West 46th Street

#8th Floor

New York, NY 10036

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