Vincent River

Photo/Carol Rosegg

Even one of the actors in Vincent River says it: "The penny's dropped." Of course it does: Philip Ridley has rigged the show to make his words drop like bombshells, carefully controlling the show to keep it suspenseful. But he doesn't need to: he has deep characters and, at least in this production, excellent actors for this haunted two-hander (Deborah Findlay and Mark Field). Ultimately, by rigging the flow of information, he bottles all the humanity in the show, and makes the plot the least interesting thing of all. And with his focus more on a detached procedural than a compelling drama, Vincent River comes across more as lazy river than whitewater thrill.

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The Honest-to-God True Story of the Atheist

Don't let the flimflam, vaudeville, exaggeration, or absurd plot shifts of The Honest-to-God True Story of the Atheist fool you. Dan Trujillo's an incredibly sharp playwright, conflating the cures of the Church with those of a Viagra huckster ("It'll put the stone/in your bone). The play is well-served by director Isaac Butler's familiarity with both the playwright and actors, for the writing requires flawless shifts between the presentational and the intimate. Not only do all three actors (Daryl Lathon, Abe Goldfarb, and Jennifer Gordon Thomas) have the range necessary to switch from mock-selves ("slapstick realism," if you will, concerning a pissed off Jen and her arsenal of gag weapons) to colorful characters (watch Abe's head explode as he yells "stupid fools"), but they look as if they've doing this show for years. The purpose of comedy is to lift the weight of the world off one's shoulders; religion aims to carry a similar burden. How appropriate, then, to find a show willing to take on both at once: that's a medicine worth taking.

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Hamlet

photo: Michal Daniel

Michael Stuhlbarg's indulgent, often bizarre performance as Hamlet is mostly of the foot-stomping tantrum variety, the Danish prince as neurotic Oedipal child. He grandstands and gesticulates but he has no more weight than a pest: this is a Hamlet where you couldn't care less about the main character. The production, directed by Oskar Eustis, offers a surprise or two - memorably, the play within the play is performed here with puppets, and Ophelia distributes stones rather than flowers when she goes mad - but in the absence of dramatic momentum it quickly becomes boring.

Single Black Female

photo: Gerry Goodstein

Ok, so it's essentially less a play than a stand-up comedy routine for two, and granted, it feels overextended over two acts. But damn did I laugh and have a good time at this consistently lively, enormously entertaining show in which two single black gals bring the usually hilarious low-down about dating and some thoughtful realness about racial identity; if the hmm-mmm's and the Amen's all around me were any indication, so did the audience I saw it with. Much of the show's often politically incorect and hard R-rated humor is just plain fun for anyone who can identify with the search for a good man, but there's also a healthy dose of specific cultural observation and relevance in Lisa B. Thompson's script, which calls upon the show's two performers (Riddick Marie and Soara-Joy Ross, both funny and endearing) to play a variety of characters. The show has been snappily directed to move swiftly by Colman Domingo, who can currently be seen on stage in Passing Strange. The two shows have something else in common: each brings middle-class black characters to the stage where they are woefully under-represented.

The Occupant

**** (...out of 5 stars)

Signature

Though I found the conceit ("Inside The Actor's Studio"- style-man-interviews-celebrity) to be a little too safe and not terribly interesting, I still loved the ideas, insight and rich character featured in Edward Albee's new biographical play about famed sculptor, Louise Nevelson (if you don't know who she is, you're forgiven early on). The focal point of this 2-act conversation is the story of the birth to death/up down up down etc. journey of a powerful, unique, damaged, fascinating artist. Along the way we learn a great deal about the pitfalls and black-eyes that can tazer a human flat on their back . We also get a Signature-Theater-eye's view of how, in spite of (/because of) all the jolts and setbacks, no matter how many years it takes, some persistent artists can find themselves and create their greatest works. This point really pops and it was truly inspiring in that respect. Mercedes Ruehl is pretty fucking splendid. As usual. In other news, I am googling the hell out of Louise Nevelson.

Jollyship the Whiz-Bang

Photo/Carol Rosegg

Jollyship the Whiz-Bang is a riot from start to finish: if anything, its subtitle ("A Pirate Puppet Rock Odyssey") is a bit of an understatement. Think Avenue Q as performed by Tenacious D with a healthy dose of irreverence by way of Family Guy, and if that doesn't have you rushing to buy a ticket, you might as well stop here. Jollyship uses the rock music to remain serious, even as it plunders the depths of self-satire and goes overboard (in a good way) with its crass puppets. Nick Jones and Raja Azar have been performing since 2002, and though they've added members to their crew (most excitingly, Steven Boyer, a very funny vocalist, and an endearing crab), the play seems to have grown organically: in other words, the comedy flows naturally, jarring only in the sense that you'll be convulsing with laughter. Sam Gold helps to think both inside and outside the box, tightening the parody as well as the prosody, and while the crew may never reach Party Island, the audience certainly will.

[Read on] [Also reviewed by: Patrick]