David Fox

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A rare opportunity to see Tell Me on a Sunday reveals a good idea, flawed in the execution.

Quintessence’s production is problematic, but at least the problems are interesting.

The Walnut Street production’s antic energy is both its strength and its weakness.

Isis’s earnest but constrained production doesn’t fully resonate.

Despite ingenious moments, the gimmick of Beth Wohl’s play wears out before it’s over.

Part II of the Lydie Breeze Trilogy is linear, concise, and better than Part I.

The Arden’s Toni Morrison adaptation is too much handsome staging, too little Morrison.

Without its companion pieced, Trouble in Tahiti, this difficult late work feels like half of an opera.

David Jacobi’s play wants to capture something important. I wish I knew what.

The audience loved this musical Shakespeare send-up. So did I—sometimes.

A terrific evening of music and theater, and a thrilling affirmation of a magnificent work.

Keith Huff’s episodic play has powerful moments, but too much narration.

David Adjmi’s clever but thin play offers theatrical showmanship but not much else.

Alan Harris’s rollercoaster of a play is a hint of Spring renewal in the depths of February.

Mastery of style is everywhere in this jewel of a show that is wistful, wry, and deeply touching.