#outside of clips of mrs doubtfire

[elibeeline]

Im watching Hook for the first time and im slowly starting to understand why everyone likes robin williams so much

But also whyd they do that to my boy Rufio

[jennawynn]

Chronotrek TNG Part 4

We're sailing through season 2!

2x11- Contagion

Appearing out of nowhere sure sounds like a transporter.

It always amazes me that medical personnel have no medical first aid training outside of their tech. If tech is so automated that anyone can use it, specialists at least should be trained in what to do if an emergency renders tech useless. They don't know what a splint is, FFS.

2x12- The Royale

Beyonce meme: NASA?!?

2033 and 2079- when the flag had 52 stars. Puerto Rico and DC statehood in the next 9? It's possible.

The laugh I laughed when "It was a dark and stormy night... (heavy sigh)"

2x13- Time Squared

In the beginning, they seemed to be establishing a 'time travel always happened' explanation of time travel that seemed to track with Pike in SNW and the red lights in Disco, but by the end of the episode, I'm not so sure anymore.

2x14 The Icarus Factor

Hey, dad's from Liar Liar. Also ew.

Why would Geordi ever believe a Klingon ceremony involved a ballroom and formalwear :joy:

2x15 Pen Pals

They have memory erasing? Did I know that before? Nice to see Pulaski being less of a jerk to Data.

2x16 Q-Who?

Why do they even have a food replicator in engineering if drinks aren't allowed? (Also imagining someone saying you can't have coffee in the plant causing a mutiny lol)

PEE-card or Pih-CARD?

Borg reminds me of Scorpius from Farscape- like who raided the BDSM shops for these costumes?

Picard's point as he says engage is almost comedic and out of place. Almost fan-servicey sometimes.

2x17 Samaritan Snare

Can you make our ship go? (Yes) We look for things to make our ship go.

They're gonna steal him, aren't they?

They stole him.

Why would surgeons wear full red (and no masks!) Of course this is a bloodless show, so they're not gonna show splatter anyway. But apparently they don't have to cut anymore either. How you replace a heart without cutting I do not know.

2x18 Up the Long Ladder

They really softened Pulaski huh? Or was it just towards Data?

This is another abortion analogy- are they allowed to steal DNA to procreate? Riker even says 'the right to exercise control over our own bodies."

They really should have asked the women's opinions about the arrangement first, though. There's like 3 of them and they have to have multiple children via multiple men. That sounds like my nightmare.

2x19 Manhunt

Man. I can't believe she'd snipe her own daughter like that lol

2x20- Emissary

Half-Klingon, huh? Humans really are the sluts of the universe. I usually see this kind of thing (there are half-elves and half-orcs, but always half-human, etc.) explained as humans are naturally more diverse within our race compared to other races which means we're more capable of inter-species breeding. You never see the same diversity of skin tone, size, features, personality, etc. in fantasy/sci-fi races as you do in real humans (partially because they have to be recognizable as Vulcan/elf/Klingon/halfling, etc.)

2x21 Peak Performance

sheds a tear look how far Pulaski's come.

One of my fave TNG gifsets here- It is possible to make no mistakes and still lose.

2x22 Shades of Gray

As far as clip shows go... it wasn't the worst I've seen.

3x1 lol Wes's little pimple face in 4k.

The uniforms are certainly thicker! AND collared! Yay!

All due respect to Sir Pat Stew, but Brent Spiner might have been the best actor on that set. The range he had to show.

Nanite civilization. Do we ever check in on them again?

3x2 Hey that voice is recognizable. Oh! Mrs. Doubtfire and Liar Liar (again!)

You don't understand the scope of my crime. I didn't kill just one Husnock or a hundred or a thousand. I killed them all. All Husnock everywhere. Are 11,000 people worth 50 billion? Is the love of a woman worth the destruction of a species?

We are not qualified to be your judges. We have no law to fit your crime.

God what would you even do if you wanted to penalize him for genocide? There's nothing you COULD do to a creature with that power... good thing he's punishing himself.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Pressing Engagement ch2 (Not baon AU)

Summary: Brotherly bonding, by way of felonies. 

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Fluff and Angst, Dating, Developing Relationship, Humor

Chapter 1

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

“Brother,” Blue sighed as he pulled his car up to curb two houses down from the Fell brother’s home. “I’ve known you for a long time.”

Stretch gave him a sideways look. “we’re brothers, i was literally there when you were born.”

Blue ignored that. “And I know we’ve discussed that shortcutting around is rude, but in this situation, I feel as though you could simply pop into Edge’s garage, look for the ring, and we can be back home in time for the new Napstaton special.”

“oh, that’d be too easy for my life,” Stretch grumbled as he pulled a dark knit ski mask over his skull, drawing it down over his face for maximum espionage. The last thing he needed was his white-ass noggin out there bobbing around like a second moon. “i can’t shortcut in. red rigged up some kinda anti-teleportation field around their house, ever since sans stashed all that nitrogen-frozen shaving cream in red’s room.” He tried to flash Blue a grin before he remembered the damn mask. “can’t blame him even if it was funny as hell. i doubt his room has been that clean before or since.”

“Yes, I remember that. Edge wasn’t as amused.”

“that’s ‘cause his sense of humor is atrophied from disuse, we’re working on it. so if shortcuts are out, we gotta be discreet. which is why you should’ve changed when i asked!" Stretch said accusingly. He glared at Blue's bright pink She-Ra t-shirt, showcasing Catra and Adora in a loving embrace. The sentiment was appreciated, the color, not so much, his bro was gonna stand out like an adorably affectionate beacon.

“My apologies for not owning any cat burglar gear, I missed out on auditioning for the remake of Ocean’s 11. Really, brother, we’re breaking into one garage, not a casino vault.” Blue sighed again and turned off the car. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“none of this was a good idea, but here i am.” Should’ve known it was a mistake the second he walked into the jewelry store, could’ve wasted a lot less time if he’d probed Edge for marriage opinions before he opened his wallet. But there wasn’t time (heh) for him to work out his own version of ‘Back to the Future’, so they were gonna have to stick with heist movie.

Stretch got out of the car and skulked closer, inspecting their surroundings, Blue following reluctantly behind. The sidewalks were empty, everyone else was sensibly inside watching their preferred nighttime entertainment since it was dark except for the bright streetlamps positioned evenly down the length of the block.

Stretch paused outside the ring of light by the Fell home, summoning a small, sharpened bone. At his elbow, Blue asked worriedly, “What are you doing?”

“i’m gonna break the streetlamp so no one can see us.”

Blue grabbed his hand, hissing, “You are not! I did not sign on for destruction of property! Unscrew the bulb and we can tighten it again when we leave!”

Okay, to be fair that was a much better idea, even if it took a lot more concentration and a quick mental ‘righty tighty, lefty loosey’. With a little effort, Stretch managed to coax the oversized bulb loose and the light went abruptly dark. Perfect.

The two of them crept closer to the house and if Blue was humming the ‘mission impossible’ theme song under his breath, Stretch couldn’t exactly gripe at him. He’d had it blaring nonstop in the back of his head since they’d left the apartments. They paused by the well-trimmed shrubs that ran alongside the garage while Stretch considered the plan.

Opening the main garage door was out. Even if Stretch could clip the house alarm, there was no way one of the Fell brothers wouldn’t hear that grinding its way open. Reconnaissance was supposed to happen before the damned heist, every movie Stretch ever saw taught him that, but they were working in a time crunch and wasn’t it a shame that the only room in the Fell house that he knew with any real detail was Edge’s bedroom. Also the shower, but neither of those options were real useful right now.

He looked around, squinting through the dimness, hell, they should’ve done this before he killed the streetlight. To his relief, he could see the outline of window in the shadows, up high on garage wall. He gestured to it, whispering to Blue, “give me up boost up.”

Blue gulped visibly and reached out, the faintest glow rising in his fingers. There was a soft ting as his magic enveloped Stretch’s soul, lifting him off his feet and towards the window. Or more like sending him on an increasingly wobbly flight through the air, limbs dangling as he slowly rose. Stretch bit back a squawk as the grip on his soul twisted him nearly sideways, then hastily overcompensated in the other direction to almost send him careening into the building.

“careful!” Stretch whispered furiously, biting back a curse as he shoved away from the wall. “seriously, what have you been learning with all that training you do!”

“I’m terribly sorry, Alphys never covered breaking and entering!” Blue hissed. Sweat was visibly standing out on his skull, glimmering in the moonlight. Another minute of unstable and slightly painful antigravity later and Stretch was hovering outside the window.

His black hoodie was a better choice for more than the color. Its pockets zipped securely shut, holding his tiny collection of burglary tools safe and sound. If Stretch’d been wearing this one earlier, none of this would be happening and wasn’t hindsight a nosy bitch. He dug out his tools, flicking on a penlight to inspect what the paranoid goblin had going for home security. There was an alarm, to be expected, but it looked like a simple wire job. All Stretch needed was five minutes and a pair of wire snips and he’d be inside.

“Oh!” his brother’s voice suddenly carried through the quiet, too loud and verging on a panicked cheer, “Good evening, Mrs. Gerson!”

Stretch’s head whipped around to see an elderly turtle Monster gradually walking up to Blue, cane in hand and waving with dreamy slowness. He couldn’t hear what she said to Blue, but his brother’s voice came loud and clear, “Yes, working on my stretching exercises! I do them for a few minutes every day. Trying to hurry up with it today, it’s later than I thought!”

Not exactly what he’d call discreet, yeah, but Stretch sure as hell got the message.

Frantically, Stretch got to work on the wires, clipping and twisting them into a messy sort of bypass. There was no time to be tidy, not while he was dangling here like a bargain basement Spider-man as Blue tried to keep Mrs. Doubtfire distracted over there. A muffled grunt escaped as Stretch suddenly listed to one side, hanging horizontally in the air. Another twist sent him face-first into the wall and Stretch tried to brace himself against the siding, biting off a yelp as he was dragged noisily upward.

“Whoops,” Blue called in a loud, nervous chuckle, hopefully covering the rattle of bones whacking into the side of a damn wall, “I think I still need to hold that stretch for another couple of minutes.” From this angle, Stretch had no idea what Mrs. Gerson was making of the washboard sound of him lurching up and down the siding like mysterious jug band traveling through the night, “Goodness, not sure how much longer I manage!”

Whatever calisthenics Blue was doing finally bent him in a direction that was close enough to the window for him to reach. Stretch grabbed on, hauling himself upright and holding on frantically with one hand as he clipped the last wire. He shoved up the windowpane, wincing as it screeched ominously the way windows only did in the middle of the damn night when someone was trying to sneak through it. He didn’t wait for Blue to try breaking out in song to cover it up, diving through the narrow panel and nearly tumbled straight to the concrete floor as his brother’s magic released, barely managing to catch himself and drop clumsily to his feet.

Okay, that went well.

Damn good thing he was breaking into Edge’s garage; the entire thing was pin-neat, no suspicious stack of paint cans to knock over or a pile of trash bags to fall into. Only tools on the wall, a clean workbench, and the pristine shape of his car precisely in its place, gleaming metallic cherry-red beneath the narrow beam of the penlight.

Now all Stretch had to do was get into it. A slim jim tool was out, for several reasons. One, despite watching several youtube videos on his way over, Stretch was not confident he could do it, two, it might damage Edge’s car and that was right out.

There was also the small matter that Stretch didn’t have a slim jim, so that left trying to hack into Edge’s Onstar account to wirelessly unlock it.

That he could probably manage and he spent a long, sweaty ten minutes on his phone, wrangling through firewalls and password detectors, searching and fruitlessly guessing, getting more frantic by the second as he silently cursed paranoid fucking Fells and it was only when despair was setting in that it occurred to him to try the door.

It opened easily under his tentative touch and the amount and variety of swearing that went through his mind right then would have sent Blue sprinting to the nearest grocery store for their entire stock of soap.

Okay, no more time for distractions, the finish line was in sight. Stretch crawled inside, penlight flashing as he searched frantically through the interior.

Not that there was much to see, Edge kept his car painfully clean. Even the mats were glossy black, not a speck of dust on the control panel, no stray fries or pennies caught in-between the seats. His panic was hitting all new highs when the light caught on dark velvet wedged in between the passenger seat and the door.

It must’ve fallen when he got out and Stretch picked it up, his knees watery-weak with relief as he opened it to look at the rings which, stupid, what was he afraid he got the wrong velvet box?

Time to get out of here, rescue Blue from Granny Mcgee and get the fuck out for the celebratory fist bump, and he barely had time to even think it when the overhead light came on at the same moment a much harsher blue magic than his brother’s took hold of his soul and slammed him painfully into the garage door. It knocked the breath out of him and Stretch hung there, wheezing, the box clutched tightly in his fingers as the last voice he wanted to hear echoed coldly through the garage.

“Stop struggling.”

Fearfully, Stretch lifted his head to see Edge strolling in through the doorway and it was honestly impressive how imposing he could be in a pair of silk pajamas and slippers.

“I’m afraid you’ve chosen the wrong car to steal, thief, I’m rather fond of it, I—” Edge stopped, his eye sockets narrowing and Stretch cringed as he reached out and roughly tore the ski mask off. His sockets widened in disbelief. “Stretch?”

“um. hey.” Stretch waved feebly with his empty hand.

“What the hell are you doing,” Edge sputtered out, cold anger melting into clear upset, “I could have hurt you!”

Yeah and sweat was running down his tailbone just thinking about it. Good thing it was Edge and not Red who found him, the gremlin might’ve dusted first and felt a micron of guilt later.

Stretch waggled his feet in the empty air. “um. gonna let me down?”

Edge’s gaze narrowed. “I’ll consider it. What are you doing here and if I hear the words shaving cream, I’ll—"

“no! no, nothing like that,” Stretch blurted in automatic denial and regretted it immediately. Shit, mistake, probably should’ve let Edge believe it was a prank of some sort, let him get mad and yell. He would’ve gotten over it eventually and they could’ve gotten back to their non-dates and twice weekly sexytimes with the occasional overnight thrown in for extra flavor. Except, Stretch didn’t like it when Edge was mad at him and not just mad, he would’ve been disappointed, even hurt, because any prank that involved his car was taking it up to a level of cruel. Edge’s car was his baby and Stretch wouldn’t do that to him, never never ever.

Didn’t matter, he’d sort of lost his chance to go with prank when he denied it was one, so there was nothing left but some version of the truth. Stretch took a deep breath and went with the basics, “i left something in your car, is all. didn’t want to bug you to get it, not after begging off on you. stupid, i know.”

“Very stupid,” Edge agreed, “considering that we have motion sensors in the garage.”

Of course he fucking did. “yeah, um, sorry.” Now that a portion of the truth was out there, time for a distraction. Hanging on the wall like a modern art installation probably wasn’t giving off the sexiest vibes, but Stretch gave it a shot, calling up what he hoped passed for an enticing smile, running his tongue lightly across his teeth, “’m feeling a lot better now, though, could head upstairs if you want, make up for a little lost time…?”

Edge raised a silencing hand and Stretch reluctantly obeyed, ah, fuck, he was too late, Edge was thinking about it, shit, and proved it by saying, slowly, “Let me see if I understand. You left something in my car and decided you needed to break into my home, bypass the alarm, pick the locks, and skulk through my garage to get it instead of simply asking me?" Edge crossed his arms over his chest and the intensity of his glare went up a notch, "No."

"no?" Stretch parroted, confused.

"No, that goes beyond the bounds of suspending my disbelief, so you're lying." Edge’s sockets narrowed and Stretch flinched from the true anger he could see there, "I do not like liars or thieves, so show me what you took."

His grip tightened around the velvet box. “but i don’t—”

“Show me,” Edge barked out.

Humiliating tears started welling, fuck, this wasn’t the time for it, all his earlier disappointment rising back up chokingly painful in his soul as Stretch whispered brokenly, "please don't make me."

Edge’s grip on his soul wavered, sending him sliding down an inch as that anger faded into bewilderment, "What…you broke into my garage, why are you—just show me!"

Miserably, Stretch held out the velvet box, let Edge snatch it away. From his continued confusion, he still didn't get it, not until he popped it open. The bands gleamed garishly in the overhead lights, carbon tungsten because the salesman assured him that it was extremely durable, with a twined color strip woven through the black metal of orange and red. Their colors joined together the way Stretch had hoped, stupidly, that their lives would.

Dawning realization as Edge looked from the rings to Stretch and back, again, and once more for good measure.

"Oh," Edge said blankly.

"yeah,” Stretch said, tiredly. “can you put me down now?"

Hastily, he did. "Stretch--" Edge began, all awkward gentleness now, the ring box still open in his hand like a mockery of Stretch’s hopeful daydreams and wasn’t that just typical of his life?

And Stretch just couldn’t. He couldn’t listen to the pity he could already see in Edge’s eye lights, he couldn’t, not right now with what felt like his entire soul choking in his throat. Red’s little shortcut blocker worked for going in, but not out and now that Edge didn’t have him pinned, Stretch was fucking gone. Stumbling out onto the sidewalk outside and almost went to his knees right where Blue was still chatting awkwardly with Mrs. Gerson.

“we need to go,” Stretch blurted. “right now!” And when Blue didn’t move fast enough, Stretch grabbed him around the waist and yanked him off his feet. Let someone else get dragged around for a change tonight, Stretch was sick of it, felt bruised inside and out as he dashed over to the car.

“Oof, bro-oth-er!” Blue yelped as he was all but bowled into the driver’s seat while Stretch scrambled over to the passenger side “What on earth is going on?!”

“go!” Stretch pleaded, “just go, i’ll explain at home.”

Blue probably would’ve put up more of a fight, sure as hell would with any other brotherly manhandling, but he caught sight of tears starting to boil down Stretch’s cheek bones and instead fumbled for his keys. “All right, we’re going.”

The engine started and he began to pull away…right into a massive cage of bones grinding up around the car from the ground, chunks of asphalt falling from the jagged tips. Directly in front of them was Edge, both hands flung out and his roused magic surrounding him in a fiery aura. His crimson eye lights blazed as he forcibly held them back in a glorious depiction of viciously controlled power even while he was still in those damn silk pajamas and slippers.

Really, it was damned impressive. He was fucking gorgeous and Stretch hated himself for noticing, for even thinking it.

“Turn off the car,” Edge said, loudly, and Blue did, sitting mutely as Edge let his magic fade. He walked over the passenger side and opened the door, leaning in as he said evenly, “I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

Stretch buried his face into his hands and wondered if he could get away with a ‘fuck, no.’

He dared to look out and from the expression on Edge’s face, fleeing was only gonna lead to a wild hunt through the city and Blue already said he didn’t want any property damage.

Might as well get it over with. Stretch nodded and impatiently wiped his face on his sleeves as he got out of the car. He couldn’t even be insulted when Edge firmly grabbed his elbow and held on, leading him towards the house despite the way Stretch’s sneakers dragged through the crumbled remains of the road.

Mrs. Gerson smiled and nodded as they walked past, waving as she croaked out, “Have a good night, boys!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gerson,” they said in unison, Edge crisply polite and Stretch a dismal mutter.

Edge unlocked the front door, pushing Stretch through it and he didn’t look up, not at Red who was on sofa, sitting up from his slouch with a genuinely startled, “what the fuck…?” and not at Edge, who ignored his brother to guide him up the stairs to his bedroom.

He closed the door and firmly set Stretch in the desk chair while Edge sat across from him on the bed.

“All right,” Edge said. He held out the ring box, blessedly closed, hiding the contents that Stretch was pretty sure he never wanted to see again; he’d rather toss them in the trash than try to return them at this point, “Now. Start from the beginning.”

tbc

Read Chapter 3

[newyorktheater]

Lesbians on Broadway! Cynthia Nixon is set to direct a Broadway production of Jane Chambers’s 1980 play “Last Summer at Bluefish Cove,” about Lesbians on summer vacation. Ellen DeGeneres, Lily Tomlin and their respective spouses will produce. Cast, details to be announced. Meanwhile, a play about an iconic blues signer who was a lesbian, is currently running Off-Off Broadway. (See below)

When did “theater” become an insult? With the impeachment trial scheduled to begin in earnest this week, the one thing that the right and the left, Democrats and Republicans, seem to agree on is that using the word “theater” is a good way to dismiss the other side, just as the term “theater criticism” is commonly used to knock journalists’ coverage of the 2020 election campaign.

Can we please stop using “theater criticism” — a craft practiced by professionals, requiring discipline, observational rigor, analysis, common sense and duty — as a byword for irresponsible writing? https://t.co/HEcwTexP1J

— Lily Janiak (@LilyJaniak) January 20, 2020

I GOT A BAD REVIEW FOR MAKING A PERFECT PLAY! (It happens) https://t.co/Bb6hIkqEQc

— Sean Daniels (@seandaniels) January 17, 2020

Broadway Week two-for-one tickets begins today

The Week in New York Theater Previews and Reviews

Ann Harada as Pile of Poo in Emojiland

My Name is Lucy Barton

Laura Linney as Lucy Barton offers a sometimes poignant, often tedious 90-minute monologue.

Rosalind Brown as Alberta Hunter

Leaving the Blues

“Leaving the Blues” dramatizes the life of the amazing jazz, blues and Broadway singer/songwriter Alberta Hunter. It is not a musical; it’s a play by Jewelle Gomez – a play that’s too long, with too many choices that need to be rethought. But it also offers a new perspective, what it was like to be a star – and a lesbian.

Ich Kann Nicht Anders

“You will hear an unbelievable true story,” one of the three actors from the Republic of Slovenia on a stage designed to look like a makeshift bunker, tells us at the beginning of the play entitled “Ich kann nicht anders,” “Some of you might find it boring, which will mean that you have chosen the wrong event for this evening. But the rest of you — and there will hopefully be quite a few — will find this intriguing, maybe even inspiring.” I was too uncertain about what was going on in the hour that followed to feel inspired, but I certainly wasn’t bored.

Modern Maori Quartet Two Worlds

Those theatergoers drawn to “Modern Maori Quartet: Two Worlds” for the authentic music and culture of the indigenous Maori people of New Zealand might feel blindsided by what seems like a Las Vegas-like lounge act.

Under the Radar:

To The Moon This 15 minutes of Virtual Reality offering the sensation of looking at, walking on and flying over the moon — created by performance artist Laurie Anderson and new media artist Hsin-Chien Huang — is more of a playful hallucinogenic experience than a linear lunar journey; more Timothy Leary than Neil Armstrong.

Feos

They meet on a line for a movie. The man and the woman — each disfigured by childhood accidents — are both used to being stared at, and they are used to being alone. At the Under the Radar festival, inspired by the late Uruguayan writer Mario Benedetti’s tender short story, “La noche de los feos” (The night of the ugly people), the Chilean theater troupe Teatro y Su Doble is presenting “Feos,” which combines puppetry and animation to tell the story of the encounter between these two shunned people, and their awkward, hesitant attempts at connecting — on the line, then in a cafe, eventually in bed.

The Week in New York Theater News

The fifth annual BroadwayCon (like ComicCon, but about Broadway), this coming weekend January 24-26.

Alex Newell will be the host of First Look at BroadwayCon on Friday, which will feature performances by the casts of new shows: Caroline, or Change, Company, Sing Street. SIX, Jagged Little Pill, Mrs. Doubtfire, Girl from the North Country, Emojiland, Between The Lines, as well as Hadestown.

Completed casts announced:

Flying Over Sunset

Erika Henningsen, Jeremy Kushnier, Emily Pynenburg, Michele Ragusa, Robert Sella, Laura Shoop, and Atticus Ware will join Carmen Cusack, Harry Hadden-Paton, and Tony Yazbeck in the LSD musical Flying Over Sunset, which opens April 16 at Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont.

Plaza Suite

Joining Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker in the cast of Plaza Suite: ,Danny Bolero, Molly Ranson and Eric Weigand. Michael McGrath and Erin Dilly will be Broderick and Parker’s standbys.

The Bedwetter

Linda Lavin and Stephanie J. Block will be in the cast of Sarah Silverman’s Off Broadway musical The Bedwetter, running April 25 to June 14 at the Atlantic theater. Sami Bray, who appeared on Broadway in the 2017 production of 1984, and Zoe Glick (of Broadway’s Frozen) will share the role of Sarah, the 10-year-old title character inspired by Silverman.

Ciara Renée will take over the role of Elsa in “Frozen,” starring opposite McKenzie Kurtz, who will make her Broadway debut in the role of Anna. Renée comes to the role after starring as the Witch in “Big Fish” on Broadway and taking over as Leading Player in the revival of “Pippin.” She and Kurtz replace original cast members Caissie Levy and Patti Murin, who will depart the production on Feb. 16.

Park Avenue Armory and National Black Theatre have announced the 100 Years | 100 Women Initiative, with a symposium on February 15 and then 100 (short) works by 100 women on May 16 responding to the centennial of women’s suffrage

The Public cancels “Truth Has Changed”

The Public Theater abruptly shortened the run of a climate change activist’s provocative one-man show at Under The Radar, saying the creator, Josh Fox, had violated the theater’s code of conduct. Fox accused the Public’s staff of “verbal threats, coercion, angry tirades and physical intimidation” as well as “acts of aggression.”

Sick of seeing sidelined heroines, playwrights Kate Hamill and Lauren Gunderson are rewriting classics like ‘Peter Pan’ and ‘Dracula’ to reinvent the female characters

Guggenheim Works & Process will present Lincoln Center Theater: Intimate Apparel by Ricky Ian Gordon and Lynn Nottage with Bartlett Sher on Sunday, February 9, 2020 at 7:30pm.

Full schedule of Works & Process this season

Shows that closed Sunday that I’ll miss

Greater Clements

Like all of Samuel Hunter’s plays that I’ve adored, this one chronicles Idaho, a state I’ve never visited, and American loss, a state we all seem to be in.

Oklahoma

Who can forget the talented & inclusive cast, including Ali Stroker as the fun-loving, oversexed Ado Annie, teasing and kissing and flirting — and swinging gleefully from a wheelchair.

Joaquina Kalukango and Paul Alexander Nolan (

Slave Play

If I felt differently about this play than many critics, the best thing to come out of it is the spotlight on @jeremyoharris , an artist of talent and smarts who is already helping to transform Broadway.

The photo is of artist Keith Haring in his studio at P.S. 122 during a residency in 1980. (He died of AIDS in 1990 at 31) @PerformSpaceNY is now naming its main space The Keith Haring Theater, & partnering w/ @KeithHaringFdn for an annual lecture series & fellowship in his name. pic.twitter.com/rSeMIquDB0

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 15, 2020

“Typically grossed between $300k and $500k, a tally at the lower end of Broadway’s ranks. But it wasn’t for a lack of attendees—just the opposite. “Slave Play” often played to weekly audiences of at least 90% capacity.”

PLAYS SHOULDN’T BE A LUXURY ITEM.https://t.co/08hAwtGXWP

— Former Broadway Playwright Jeremy O. Harris (@jeremyoharris) January 20, 2020

  Marking the publication of “The Letters of Cole Porter,” @AdamGopnik in @newyorker writes an appreciation of the “almost inhumanly prolific songwriter” who measured a Broadway show’s success “simply by the number of hit songs it produced.”https://t.co/ogI5ReWRHM pic.twitter.com/Gl841pgCXM

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 17, 2020

“Cole Porter was to straight sex in his ‘affair’ songs as his best friend, Irving Berlin, was to Christianity in writing White Christmas—the outsider’s triumph was to own the insider’s material.” Adam Gopnik on the open secret of Porter’s sexuality.

The ten most check-out books of all time from the New York Public Library Most have been adapted for the stage.

When Disability Isn’t a Special Need but a Special Skill

Jesse Green looks at two Under the Radar productions performed by people with disabilities

Hollywood Bets On a Future of Quick Clips and Tiny Screens

Entertainment startup Quibi has already won over industry A-listers with its vision for short-form mobile streaming. But will it catch on with viewers?

Rest in Peace

Peter Larkin, 93, designed sets for 45 Broadway productions (for which he won four Tonys) and worked as production designer on more than two dozen movies

“Theater” as political insult. Lesbians on Stage. Broadway Week. #Stageworthy News of the Week When did "theater" become an insult? With the impeachment trial scheduled to begin in earnest this week, the one thing that the right and the left, Democrats and Republicans, seem to agree on is that using the word "theater" is a good way to dismiss the other side, just as the term "theater criticism" is commonly used to knock journalists' coverage of the 2020 election campaign.