There’s perhaps just enough time until the 2024 election that a play about internecine strife among Democrats can be palatable rather than infuriating. In fact, Mario Correa’s N/A, a battle of ideas between N (Holland Taylor), the first woman Speaker of the House, and the insurgent A (Ana Villafañe), the youngest woman ever elected to Congress, is downright enjoyable, with sharp, quippy, idea-laden writing that can feel as though plucked from The West Wing (minus the walking). Staging this play in the fall, on the eve of the election, would have been sadistic; in the election’s aftermath it might feel like an afterthought. So the moment is ripe to watch two fiercely intelligent, trailblazing women debate their ideals and approaches to wielding power.
In Lucy Kirkwood’s The Welkin, the time is 1759, and the residents of a rural English community have one eye on the sky—welkin is an archaic word for heaven—for the appearance of Halley’s Comet. It’s a rare occurrence that takes their minds off their hardscrabble 18th-century lives.
The skirmish of wits between Shakespeare’s Beatrice and Benedick takes on a modern spin in a new production of Much Ado About Nothing, set in 1940s Italy. Director Thomas G. Waites utilizes the unflagging energy of a rotating cast from Waites TGW studio to fire up Shakespeare’s romantic comedy.
Following its co-commission of Public Obscenities, a finalist for this year’s Pulitzer Prize in Drama, NAATCO—the National Asian American Theatre Company—leans even more heavily into the theme of gender identity with its new production Isabel, an adventurous but impenetrable 70-minute drama by Reid Tang.
Dark Noon, the South African-devised history of the American West now visiting Brooklyn from the Edinburgh Festival, foregrounds violence by white Europeans against blacks, Asians, and native Americans to debunk the mythology of America established by heroes in film westerns. The title deliberately references High Noon (1952), but the piece belongs to the “in yer face” school of theater, established in Britain in the 1990s. Although “slapstick humor” is billed as one element of the production, the send-up is a heavy-handed attack on the depredations of Manifest Destiny.
New York Rep continues to develop new plays that inspire and compel social change with its world premiere of Ashley Griffin’s The Opposite of Love. Directed by Rachel Klein, this poignant two-hander explores how people often experience long-term effects of sexual abuse suffered in childhood.
The first thing to know about The Gospel According to Heather: It’s way out of author Paul Gordon’s wheelhouse. Gordon, the rare writer who creates book, music, and lyrics, specializes in adaptations of lofty classics, most prominently Jane Eyre. His 2009 version of Daddy Long Legs gets produced a lot (while convincing some of us that epistolary musicals aren’t a great idea). For The Gospel According to Heather he turns thoroughly contemporary, with an original story so current that there are jokes about drag storybook hour, Dylan Mulvaney’s Budweiser ad, and the congressional tussle over gas ovens. Heather, like its title character, isn’t perfect, but it has more on its mind than the average musical comedy, and it dispenses its outrage with verve and good humor.
