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Your guide to Broadway and theater in NYC: Ticket sales, theater reviews and listings for Broadway shows, Off Broadway shows, musicals and plays

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Review: Social Security

Playwright Christina Masciotti again finds amazing pain and poetry in everyday speech

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  • 5 out of 5 stars
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Review: The Mystery of Love & Sex

It has been written by many a self-help author and even crooned by John Mayer: Love is a verb

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  • 4 out of 5 stars
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Review: Bright Half Life

In Tanya Barfield's new play, a timeless romance is glimpsed through poignant fragments

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  • 4 out of 5 stars
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Review: Brooklynite

When you live in Brooklyn, it's hard to tell the hipsters and geeks from superheroes

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  • 3 out of 5 stars
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The 10 hottest chorus boys in Broadway musicals

Broadway musicals kick into high gear every spring, powered by the gifted dancers and singers of their ensemble casts.

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Theater and Broadway shows in New York

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Time Out's picks

The best shows on Broadway and off, as chosen by Time Out's critics.

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Best Broadway shows

The perfect short list of the most exciting plays, musicals and revivals on Broadway.

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Off Broadway shows

Reviews and tickets for Off Broadway shows in New York

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Off-Off Broadway shows

Reviews and tickets for Off-Off Broadway shows in New York.

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Theater tickets and offers

The Lion

Now $29, Was $50

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Chicago

Now $59.50, Was $89.50

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Bad Dancing World Championship Finals

Now $54, Was $35

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Gazillion Bubble Show

Now $45, Was $75

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NYU Skirball Center's Big Red Chair Family Series

Now $20, Was $13

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The Nether

The Nether: Theater review by David Cote Excuse me for not getting too excited for a play about the Internet. Actors jabbing at dead keyboards, staring wild-eyed at invisible, downstage monitors or worse, having emotional breakdowns in virtual-reality goggles. Thankfully, none of these elements appear in Jennifer Haley’s initially cool, eventually hokey The Nether, a techno fable-thriller about the moral corruption of online life. Words you won’t hear in Haley’s taut, terse script: browser, website or domain name; Internet appears once, as an obsolete term. In her future scenario, people log in to the Nether and waste their lives playing make-believe in custom-built "realms." One such e-topia is the Hideaway, a Victorian manse where pedophiles meet sexually forthright children before murdering them with an ax. Hideaway owner Sims (Frank Wood) is called in by Nether investigator Morris (a likable but squishy and tentative Merritt Wever) on charges of solicitation and rape—but is it a crime if it’s only online? Is the Nether a therapeutic release valve or a goad to offline atrocities? Director Anne Kauffman does her usual excellent job of setting a lucid, menacing tone, and the cast (including an excellent Peter Friedman as a wretched Hideaway addict) imbues the underwritten script with complexity. Art about technology can date faster than tech itself, so this twisty allegory on mind-versus-body duality might enjoy a longer shelf life.—David Cote Lucille Lortel Theatre (see O

Time Out says
  • 3 out of 5 stars
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Lives of the Saints

Just as the short-story collection is an endangered species in the publishing world, a night of one-act plays can be a tough sell

Time Out says
  • 4 out of 5 stars
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The World of Extreme Happiness

The World of Extreme Happiness: Review by Helen Shaw The little-known tenth Muse—my favorite one, actually—is Rage. She doesn't hang about twiddling a lyre; instead, she brandishes a whip, accelerating a play by lashing it from within. Frances Ya-Chu Cowhig's black comedy The World of Extreme Happiness obeys that hectoring goddess: Its best moments roar with anger, which lets us overlook the few dramaturgically frustrating ones. The play has high points and low, but the final three scenes slam into place like heavy doors, turning the funny, brutal show into something red with real fury. Somewhere in rural China, a heavily pregnant woman (Jo Mei) is standing in the doorway of her hut, cursing like a sailor and pushing like mad. The baby eventually emerges, but it's a girl, so the midwife (Sue Jin Song) dumps her into the pig-slop bucket to die. (The plunk of that little body into the pail is a hard noise to forget.) The infant does survive, but even long after her ugly baptism, young Sunny (Jennifer Lim) stays in the muck. Now a teenager cleaning toilets in a Shenzhen factory, Sunny must deal with her despicable father, Li Han (James Saito), brother Pete (Telly Leung), dizzy friend and self-help aficionado Ming Ming (Mei, doing great work again), and an unhelpful supervisor (Francis Jue). “Be glad you were born with a penis,” Sunny snaps at Pete as she heads off to clean another bathroom, hoping that a manager's recent suicide will open up some opportunity. Cowhig crams event

Time Out says
  • 4 out of 5 stars
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The Insurgents

The Insurgents: Theater review by Helen Shaw Some of Lucy Thurber's most compelling writing to date happens in The Insurgents, her uneven tale of a woman overcome by violence and injustice—in short, the modern United States. The drama begins with a clever device, as actor Cassie Beck, brandishing a shotgun, introduces herself to the audience and chats with us about our own experience with firearms. Since the play itself is unstable (when does it begin?), it helps us empathize with Beck's deranged character, Sally, who will soon find herself sitting at her family's kitchen table, carrying on conversations with Nat Turner (Craig muMs Grant), Harriet Tubman (April Matthis), John Brown (Dan Butler) and Timothy McVeigh (Aaron Roman Weiner). If that last name gives you pause, it may be because Thurber is treading on dangerous ground, equating antislavery rebels with the Oklahoma City bomber. But Sally has sunk deep into her studies of those who shed blood to water the tree of liberty, and so she's willing to listen to anyone. Now she prowls her kitchen (nicely designed by Raul Abrego) with the family shotgun, terrifying her dad (Butler) and brother (Weiner) and badgered by her phantoms, though she—and they—don't seem quite clear on what they're persuading her to do. Thurber returns to her constant theme: the limitations and poverty of her home, rural New Hampshire. Sally's father spouts racist claptrap, and Sally tries to explain, apologize, contextualize and persuade him otherwis

Time Out says
  • 3 out of 5 stars
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Big Love

Big Love: Theater review by Adam Feldman Charles Mee’s Big Love begins in an Italian idyl so immaculately conceived—pristine walls, a clean white tub, a hanging garden of flowers, blue sea and sky in the background—that it’s only a matter of time before the canvas gets splattered. Freely adaptated from Aeschylus’ Danaid tetralogy, of which only the first part survives, the play depicts a refugee crisis sparked by the refusal of 50 Greek women to wed the 50 men to whom they’ve been involuntarily betrothed. The runaway brides are led by the radical Thyona (Stacey Sargeant), who borrows misandrist rhetoric from Valerie Solanas’s SCUM Manifesto; their pursuers follow the intransigent Constantine (Ryan-James Hatanaka), who claims an American warrior’s right to have his way. This battle of the sexes is doomed to end in a literal orgy of violence. True to its title, Big Love is epic in scope and open of heart. There are striking monologues in verse, and amid the carnage are an egalitarian courtship between Lydia (Rebecca Naomi Jones) and Nikos (Bobby Steggert), a wistful monologue by a young gay man (Preston Sadler) and a thematic summation by a wise older woman (Lynn Cohen). Mee’s postmodern approach also allows for frequent jokey anachronisms, musical interludes and opportunities for spectacle. (Some are effective, as when the frustrated women repeatedly fling themselves on the floor, while others seem trite, as when they sing Lesley Gore’s “You Don’t Own Me.”) Yet although these

Time Out says
  • 3 out of 5 stars
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Theater

Hamilton

History ticks to a syncopated beat in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s jubilant, overflowingly rich Hamilton. And just as syncopation achieves its energizing effect by disturbing the expected flow, so Miranda’s biomusical on founding father Alexander Hamilton is a rhythm-and-rhyme intervention for American iconography and ideology. This populist throwdown to the way we tell our stories and spin our songs is about the Revolution, and it is a revolution: hip-hop grooves stuffed with political critique, heroes of color taking over the old house and throwing a party. You’re invited, but you’ve got to learn new moves. Miranda based this epic-yet-personal pageant on Ron Chernow’s 2004 biography, which clued in the prodigious composer-lyricist to the fact that Hamilton was, as his opening lines have it, “a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a / Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten / Spot in the Caribbean.” Casting himself in the title role, Miranda claims Hamilton for the immigrant dissident. And yet the ambitious and brilliant young Hamilton emigrates north and becomes a successful lawyer, General Washington’s go-to aide and one of the Constitution’s most eloquent interpreters, all the while starting a family and weathering a sex scandal. Spoiler alert for the historically ignorant: It all crashes in 1804, when Hamilton agrees to a duel with then–Vice President Aaron Burr (Leslie Odom Jr.), a man who has felt scorned and outshined by Hamilton

Time Out says
  • 5 out of 5 stars
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Off Broadway Week's two-for-one sale

Five excellent shows to see without breaking the bank

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Hamilton delays Broadway transfer

“My name is Alexander Hamilton, / And there’s a million things I haven’t done,”

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Waiting for new American opera

This week the Metropolitan Opera announced its 2015-16 season and for lovers of classic repertoire from Italy, France and Germany, the news was welcome: new productions of Verdi’s Otello, Alban Berg’s Lulu, Puccini’s Manon Lescaut, Strauss’s Elektra and more. The New Year’s Eve gala performance will be a new staging of Bizet’s Les Pêcheurs de Perles. The Met is bringing back several worthy directors, including Sirs Richard Eyre and David McVicar, Penny Woolcock and (most exciting for me) art-star William Kentridge (whose multimedia staging of Shostakovich’s The Nose was a high point of recent years).But for those looking for new American opera—or at least examples of our native output from the past decade or so—the lineup can be disappointing. Producers, conductors, singers and librettists (such as yours truly) took to social media to grumble about the lack of new titles this season. You could easily assemble a short list of great recent work that would fit on the Met’s mammoth stage: Jake Heggie’s Moby-Dick or Dead Man Walking; Kevin Puts and Mark Campbell’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Silent Night; some would like to see Daniel Catan’s Florencia en el Amazonas (1996) finally make it to the Met, as Nixon in China and The Death of Klinghoffer eventually did. There were plans to revive John Corigliano's 1991 “grand opera buffa” The Ghosts of Versailles at the Met in 2008, but they fell through. LA Opera just had a smashing success with it, with Darko Tresnjak directing.You can go f

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Hedwig Sing-Along at SVA

Put on your biggest wig and chunkiest heels to rock out with the film

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