Throughout our lives, when faced with a moment that is sure to produce pain, we often hear these words in an attempt to offer protection: “Don’t look and it won’t hurt.” If we don’t look, we avoid discomfort, shame, embarrassment, heartbreak, humiliation.
At age eleven, I checked out THE FANTASTICKS CD from the public library and stole my oldest brother’s Discman to listen to it. In 2017, sitting in the intimate Blue Theatre, I was brought back to that joy and giddiness I felt sitting in the corner of my childhood bedroom humming “Soon It’s Gonna Rain.”
Most of us know or have been that person who’s really into Shakespeare. The enthusiast who often through a bombardment of Elizabethan vocabulary and extreme enthusiasm for iambic pentameter tries to convert the listener to their love of the bard.
I hold very few things sacred, yet, SWEENEY TODD: THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET rises to the ranks. Over twenty years ago, I saw a production that transformed me into a musical theater lover.
Within minutes of the curtain fluttering open, a young woman Micaëla enters the army camp of men; the scene I saw before me bore a striking similarity to that I had experienced not twenty-four hours beforehand. It was only the first in many moments of relevance that Rob Ashford’s expert direction delivers in his shining new production.
How does one handle the magnitude of being the chosen example? How does one upkeep the personification of a crusade?
I was skeptical about this production — Whitney Houston’s incomparable voice is near impossible to take on because it commands so much authority and energy.
HOBO KING calls into question the bully culture of a city’s government and police officers that is bestowed upon an already vulnerable homeless community.