Blake Abramovitz

Michael Shaw Fisher has pulled a mad, sexed up, ferociously unscrupulous rabbit from his impresario's hat. Behold, it dances obscenely across Theater Row like the chestburster in "Alien." No one can get hold of it, and people are scared. And they should be scared. "Not I," you object. "I'm a seasoned patron of the arts. A certified aesthete, by God! My sensibility was honed over decades at countless plays and festivals from New York to London, in countless readings of the Paris Almanac de Théâ... full review

Start with two complex, confused human beings. Add attraction, romance, hope. (That is, make them desperately in love with {addicted to?} each other.) Now hand them an insoluble dilemma (or two), and fling the resulting goulash unceremoniously into a tiny airless room. Bake on high for sixty minutes, and watch insanity expand like a defective sourdough. Now, that's my kind of dish. But it's time to switch metaphors, lest my reader become bored. Who needs the tidy ballet of so... full review

It's rare to encounter a piece of theater whose existence owes itself to an act of courage. One hears much in cafés and bars haunted by creative types about "the bravery of artists," about our admirable willingness to "dig deep," to "go there." This play, in its very inception, gives meaning to such tired niceties. It is a challenge to our fundamental moral biases, savagely undermining any easy conventional judgements about evil, psychopathy, criminality, or the like. At the fearless hea... full review

Ellen and Lois were generous, charming, on-0their-game presenters. Their passion was infectious, their professionalism unmistakable. I thought to myself, "Okay, dude. You're in expert hands. Just listen, follow through, and you'll be fine." ... full review

Go see this show! (If you're into... Pain. Madness. Music. Laughter.)... full review