Unlike the hordes of deplorables who may use the hashtag that serves as the title of this piece to express their grievances regarding the casting-diversity in this year’s big-screen adaptation of Power Rangers, I wish to direct its sentiment not at the cast’s inclusive representation — one of the few redeeming qualities in the whole affair — but rather at the generic, superhero dreck that surrounds them.
Since The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical – based on a popular young adult book series – is now going on tour, my belated thoughts on its New York City engagement at the Lucille Lortel Theatre earlier this year have become relevant once more:
A documentary about a tragically-seminal modern event like Ferguson sounds almost essential given the current political crisis.
Father John Misty sung his way onto my radar in late 2015 thanks to the first season of Aziz Ansari and Alan Yang’s Netflix series Master of None, in which the crooner was positioned as a New York underground sensation.
2017 is shaping up to be a year of niche movies.
Annabelle: Creation is comprised almost exclusively of tired horror tropes, and even lacks the common positive ones (it couldn’t at least throw the audience the genre’s customarily stylish cinematography).
=As a newcomer to the #FreelanceLyfe, I’ve been revisiting some movies and shows from earlier this year trying to detect trends that would make for juicy pitches in the eyes of omnipotent editors.
Michael McKeever’s Daniel’s Husband proves yet again that Primary Stages continues to be a bafflingly ignored hotbed of quality new plays.
A sheltered man with an unconventional mind lives a golden-spoon life far removed from the poverty right outside his not-so-humble abode. Some may call him simple, but his distinct perspective is a direct result of his only access to the outside world: obsessive television watching. Almost everything he knows about life has been gleaned from the boob tube. Through this small-screen understanding, he dupes his way into the highest offices of America, convincing the country he’s someone that he’s not.
Don’t worry: this is not yet another think piece about Donald J. Trump.
Rarely does such a sitcom-meets-Will Ferrel/Adam-McKay premise lead to glorious pedanticism, but playwright Jen Silverman revels in the unexpected.