Things to do in New York this Friday

Two girls. One cup. What could go wrong? Eliya Smith's potentially shocking two-hander, developed with the Goat Exchange and inspired by the viral scat-porn clip that scandalized and titillated the world in 2007, does not try to dramatize the experience of Karla and Latifa, the stars of the Brazilian fetish film Hungry Bitches. Instead, it is drawn verbatim from conversations with men who have watched their scene—which inspired countless reaction videos online—and explores what they remember about it and how much about their own sexuality they are willing to share. Chloe Claudel and Juliana Sass play all the roles in what sounds like both an exercise in docutheater and a subversion of it; Claudel also co-directs it with Mitchell Polonsky.

Theater review by Sandy MacDonald Rating: Not recommended The brutish ocean-liner stoker called Yank, who propels Eugene O’Neill’s expressionistic 1922 play The Hairy Ape, is basically a two-note role: He’s aggressively boastful, then aggrieved. Jon Beavers hits both extremes with admirable vigor. Impressively built, albeit not hirsute, he morphs easily from braggadocious grunt to humiliated would-be social activist. Yank may rant at great length about what a powerhouse he is—“I’m parta de engines!”—but at length he’s forced to see his status as that of a born patsy: the unschooled, unskilled flotsam of a tiered society that views him only as cheap labor. The Hairy Ape | Photograph: Courtesy Carol Rosegg All it takes to trigger Yank’s rage is a passing glimpse of an elegant phantasm descended from the privileged promenade deck. Rebel debutante Mildred (Elizabeth Teeter) arranges a slumming expedition to the boiler room, scandalizing her snappish chaperone (Joanna Glushak). The dialogue is actually quite shocking—this proto-flapper has a mixed agenda and attitude to spare—so we’re not adequately set up for Mildred's reaction upon penetrating the lower depths, where the crew shovels coal in choreographed lockstep like pistons in a machine. “Oh, the filthy beast!” she whimpers before swooning. The Hairy Ape | Photograph: Courtesy Carol Rosegg Vowing revenge on the ruling class in general and this entitled princess in particular, Yank joins a socialist shipmate (Ariyan...

Broadway review by Adam Feldman  [Note: Maya Rudolph plays the role of Mary Todd Lincoln through June 20, joined by Phillip James Brannon, Cheyenne Jackson and original cast members Bianca Leigh and Tony Macht.] Cole Escola’s Oh, Mary! is not just funny: It is dizzyingly, breathtakingly funny, the kind of funny that ambushes your body into uncontained laughter. Stage comedies have become an endangered species in recent decades, and when they do pop up they tend to be the kind of funny that evokes smirks, chuckles or wry smiles of recognition. Not so here: I can’t remember the last time I saw a play that made me laugh, helplessly and loudly, as much as Oh, Mary! did—and my reaction was shared by the rest of the audience, which burst into applause at the end of every scene. Fasten your seatbelts: This 80-minute show is a fast and wild joy ride. Escola has earned a cult reputation as a sly comedic genius in their dazzling solo performances (Help! I’m Stuck!) and on TV shows like At Home with Amy Sedaris, Difficult People and Search Party. But Oh, Mary!, their first full-length play, may surprise even longtime fans. In this hilariously anachronistic historical burlesque, Escola plays—who else?—Mary Todd Lincoln, in the weeks leading up to her husband’s assassination. Boozy, vicious and miserable, the unstable and outrageously contrary Mary is oblivious to the Civil War and hell-bent on achieving stardom as—what else?—a cabaret singer.      Oh, Mary! | Photograph: Courtesy...

Theater review by Raven Snook  [Note: This is a review of the 2024 production of The Ask at the Wild Project. The show returns in 2026 for a run at Theater 555, directed again by Jessi D. Hill but now starring Marilu Henner and Shannon Purser (who played the unlucky Barb on Stranger Things).] Words are wounding in Matthew Freeman's taut two-hander The Ask, an entertaining and empathetic examination of generational and philosophical differences that divide the political left. Savvy sexagenarian Greta (a flawless Betsy Aidem) welcomes Tanner (Colleen Litchfield)—a young, nonbinary representative from the American Civil Liberties Union—to her well-appointed Upper West Side study. A longtime liberal and high-level donor, Greta is polite but peeved: Her old ACLU contact has departed without warning, and she is wary of what she sees as the organization’s mission creep beyond civil liberties. Tanner knows they're there to listen, even when the conversation stings. But they also try to gently explain the group’s expanded priorities as they steel themself to make a big-money request. Inspired by his own long tenure as an ACLU fundraiser, Freeman gives this extended power play an uncomfortable verisimilitude. Aidem and Litchfield, who costarred in Leopoldstadt on Broadway, mine the unease for laughs but also understanding. As you listen to their arguments and their anguish—when Tanner uses inclusive gender language, Greta feels erased—you lament how quickly common ground can be...

Writer-performer Milo Kramer's one-act, one-person show uses their experience as a private tutor for NYC tweens who hope to qualify for elite schools as the inspiration for fictionalized musical portraits of ten children in various states of angst—and of the teacher who watches them cope with the pressures of parents and peers. The show generated considerable enthusiasm in 2023, when it briefly ran in rep with two other solo works at Playwrights Horizons; it now returns at the Cherry Lane, where it alternates performances with the extremely different Two Girls.

The two queen Annes of adventurous Off Broadway theater, Anne Washburn (Mr. Burns, a Post-Electric Play) and director Anne Kauffman (You Got Older), collaborated memorably on the Civilians' The Ladies way back in 2003. They reunite at MCC Theater for this unsettling look at the conflicts that unfurl when a gay couple in suburban Texas displays a Pride flag, sending one TikTok-addled neighbor into paroxyms of QAnon alarm. Crystal Finn, who buigged out so well in Cold War Choir Practice, goes off the deep end once again, with Jeremy Shamos and Jeff Biehl as her gay foils; Andrew Garman and Izabel Mar complete the primo cast. 

Can you handle the truth? Film and TV auteur Aaron Sorkin launched his writing career with this 1989 courtroom thriller about a murder trial that implicates two Marines in a wider conspiracy plot. Michael Arden, who has quickly become one of Broadway's preeminent directors of musicals, ventures into straight-play terrority to helm the play's revival for Lincoln Center Theater. The cast includes Bradley Whitford—an alum of Sorkin's The West Wing—and the rising English actor Tom Blyth (Billy the Kid). 

Frigid New York gives you the chills in its fourth annual festival inspired by Mexico's dead-lifting Día de los Muertos. The lineup features spooky variety nights, horror plays and other macabre diversions, including a cabaret with a traditional ofrenda. Among the offerings are Scott Robinson's solo Edgar Allan Poe's Last Call, the neoclown shows Hex Appeal and 3Pigs+Wolf, the original musical I'm That Witch and the return of The Witching Hour, a triple feature hosted Andrew Agress. Visit the festival's website for a schedule and a full roster of partipating shows.

Review by Adam Feldman  The low-key dazzling Speakeasy Magick has been nestled in the atmospheric McKittrick Hotel for more than a year, and now it has moved up to the Lodge: a small wood-framed room at Gallow Green, which functions as a rooftop bar in the summer. The show’s dark and noisy new digs suit it well. Hosted by Todd Robbins (Play Dead), who specializes in mild carnival-sideshow shocks, Speakeasy Magick is a moveable feast of legerdemain; audience members, seated at seven tables, are visited by a series of performers in turn. Robbins describes this as “magic speed dating.” One might also think of it as tricking: an illusion of intimacy, a satisfying climax, and off they go into the night. The evening is punctuated with brief performances on a makeshift stage. When I attended, the hearty Matthew Holtzclaw kicked things off with sleight of hand involving cigarettes and booze; later, the delicate-featured Alex Boyce pulled doves from thin air. But it’s the highly skilled close-up magic that really leaves you gasping with wonder. Holtzclaw’s table act comes to fruition with a highly effective variation on the classic cups-and-balls routine; the elegant, Singapore-born Prakash and the dauntingly tattooed Mark Calabrese—a razor of a card sharp—both find clever ways to integrate cell phones into their acts. Each performer has a tight 10-minute act, and most of them are excellent, but that’s the nice thing about the way the show is structured: If one of them happens to...

Andrew Durand plays the title character, who is born an old man and ages into a child, in Jethro Compton and Darren Clark's musical adaptation of F. Scott's Fitzgerald's whimsical 1922 short story. This British version moves the setting from 19th-century America to 20th-century Cornwall, and its acclaimed 2024 West End production won the Olivier Award for Best Musical last year. Co-author Compton also serves as the show's director and scenic designer; the rest of the London creative team is also on board for its U.S. premiere at the Public Theater, which co-stars Kelsee Kimmel as the love of Button's backward life.