Weekly Margin 2025, W28: Joy, Pirates! The Penzance Musical, Operation Mincemeat, Call Me Izzy, Purpose, John Proctor is the Villain

7/07/25: Joy

What: A new musical adaptation of the story of Joy Mangano, entrepreneur and inventor who made it big on QVC.

And? It's mid-previews, so I don't know how this show will end up. As it is, Betsy Wolfe is very good, as she always is, finding humor in the understated moments. Most of the characters, outside Joy herself, are underwritten cutout characters. A lot of the songs have a sense of sameness to them (both in sound and content), sitting in the moment rather than advancing things. The best number is "We Sell Stories," the song introducing all the suits at QVC (it really is a lot of fun), and Joshua Bergasse's choreography for it is delightful, but I'm troubled that he saved his best work for the two big male-dominated numbers. The staging for the female-led numbers, by contrast, feels vague and non-committal. I can hope that will get sharpened over previews, but it's a weird thing to see in such a girl-power story.

7/08/25: Pirates! The Penzance Musical

a repeat visit

7/09/25: Operation Mincemeat

a repeat visit

7/10/25: Call Me Izzy

What: Roundabout presents Jamie Wax's one-woman play about a Louisiana poet trapped in an abusive marriage but trying valiantly to hold onto her voice and her love of language. This production stars Jean Smart, but as she has been out with an injury, I saw it with Tony-nominated Johanna Day.

And? The subject matter is unsettling, for sure, but Wax's writing presents a realistic portrait of the conflicting emotions of someone trapped in a relationship like this--including her defensiveness against anyone trying to rescue her from it. The bathroom is Izzy's refuge, once her husband has destroyed her journals. Here she can write, secretly. Here she can tell us her story. Here she can lock the door and be safe, if only for the moment, if only while he sleeps. It's very hard to watch, but it's very worth the watch. Johanna Day is remarkable as Izzy and--except for one moment of calling line--you'd never know she hadn't been playing the role this whole time.

Jean Smart as Izzy. Photo by Emilio Madrid.

7/11/25: Purpose

a repeat visit

7/12/25: John Proctor is the Villain

a repeat visit

Weekly Margin 2025, W27: Lowcountry

6/02/25: Lowcountry

What: Atlantic Theater presents the world premiere of Abby Rosebrock's play about a Tinder date where secrets continue to reveal themselves as facades drop one by one. I'm trying not to give too much away here because twisty-turny.

And? For most of the play, I was thinking "this is fine, they're doing solid work and there's tension, but I don't know how invested I am in either of these characters winning out." But the ending packs a punch and ultimately makes the evening worth it.

Babak Tafti and Jodi Balfour as David and Tally. Photo by Ahron R. Foster.

Weekly Margin 2025, W25: Trophy Boys

6/18/25: Trophy Boys

What: MCC presents the American premiere of Emmanuelle Mattana's satire about four private school seniors in debate prep for their upcoming face-off against their sister school. Given a controversial topic in which they'd be placed to argue a problematic point, they struggle to balance their need to virtue signal with their desire to beat the other team. And then even more hijinks ensue when one of them cheats by opening his laptop.

And? Mattana, who also stars as one of the four boys in the play, intends this as a statement not only on the toxic culture of using logic to perfect reprehensible arguments without thinking that can affect actual mindsets, but also on masculinity itself: the four boys are none of them played by cis men (some are played by nonbinary people, some by women). The show is dynamic, hilarious, a well-framed argument in itself, and ultimately deathly chilling. This is how it happens. This is how it keeps happening. This is how we got where we are (I'm trying to avoid spoilers here).

Weekly Margin 2025, W24: Passengers, Machinal

6/13/25: Passengers

What: Montreal's The 7 Fingers cirque company returns to New York with a devised piece inspired by the liminality of travel, of leaving, and of connecting. 

And? We've talked before about how any artistic endeavor, once it's out there, becomes not only the creation itself, but also a collaboration with its audience. We can't help but bring ourselves to any piece of work we experience. And so what do your brain do, what stories does it tell, when you're watching a piece that is often abstract, that engages with language only about a third of the time? Your brain connects it to your own story; you mirror it, you let it mirror you. And so you see a woman twisting herself up in hanging white fabric, high up and beautiful and in total control, and yet held up by nothing, and you think, "this is what loneliness feels like." You see another woman, a man balanced on her shoulders, as a third person climbs to stand on his shoulders. You see her body shaking with the effort, but you see her standing, still, keeping her friends safe until they climb down, and you think, "this is what strength looks like." You see a man position himself on a pole upside down, you think, "he's like the Hanging Man in Tarot," and then he lets himself fall smoothly down, stopping just before his head would hit the floor. There's so much joy in this production, there's such power in the way the nine of them carry each other, catch each other, watch and listen and release and breathe as one. And I think if I were in a better headspace, that would be my main takeaway, because that's what I love about collaborative storytelling: everyone working together to create the moment. But it's been a hard week, so I thought instead about loneliness and strength, and the melancholy that can attach to both. But I'm documenting the community aspect as well, as something to return to when I'm feeling better. Because it's important too.

Philosophy aside, this was fantastic. I adore 7 Fingers, and will catch their work whenever they come to New York. They bring such joy and poetry to all their pieces, somehow more grounded and human than the expansive work of their cousin in Canadian circus work.

Photo source.

6/14/25: Machinal

What: New York City Center presents Sophie Treadwell's seminal work about a woman who, caught in the repressive and mechanical restrictions of her life, is driven to murdering her husband.

And? The most striking thing about this production is the percussive choreography crafted by Madison Hilligoss and performed in large part by Veronica Simpson and Michael Verre, both credited as The Machine. In this production their relentless tapping of shoes, ringing of bells, and whacking of hammers articulate the tension and anxiety inside Helen's mind. At her job, with her mother, or near her boss-turned-husband, nowhere seems a safe and quiet place for her to retreat. And so too the audience is inundated with the constant beat, a pace under which we could either fall into lockstep, or stumble and be trampled. Only when she meets the man who becomes her lover does the noise seem to recede at last. I like this dilation of Treadwell's already mechanical and rhythmic text, though it does at times obscure the text, the tapping overpowering the voices. I think in general the sound design needs to be adjusted, to better balance both. A conceit can be effective, but it shouldn't be at the expense of clarity. Otherwise I like the kinetic movement of the piece, as well as the use of the ensemble to surround and overwhelm the Young Woman.

Weekly Margin 2025, W23: Nine Moons, Old Friends, OUT/PLAY Presents: Summer Shorts, Good Night, and Good Luck, Tony Awards

6/02/25: Nine Moons

What: Blessed Unrest presents Keith Hamilton Cobb's new play, a prequel to Othello.

And? full review here.

Sophia Marilyn Nelson and Robert Manning, Jr. as Desdemona and Ot'Teo.
Photo by Maria Barnova.

6/03/25: Old Friends

What: The newest Sondheim revue, this time produced by Cameron Mackintosh and starring Bernadette Peters and Lea Salonga (with Gavin Lee, Beth Leavel, and others).

And? It's pretty great. There are always going to be some weirdnesses, but it's pretty great for a revue. There are an awful lot of act one finales in this (which makes sense, because Sondheim really knew how to write a good one). We could worry that having so many could mess with the dynamic of the evening but, to quote another show from this season, the audience as a whole is "too much in love to care." We're all just so damn happy to be hearing songs we love from across Sondheim's canon. Whereas the pandemic revue, Take Me to the World, often specialized in some lesser-known gems, this leans into the beloved in a big way, with numerous songs from oft-revived shows like Funny Thing, Company, Gypsy, Sweeney Todd, and Into the Woods. I will admit to being a bit troubled that the program credits only Sondheim for music and lyrics for the evening, as it includes songs from his collaborations with Leonard Bernstein and Jule Styne; especially when they're careful to note when they're using text by James Lapine, it's a weirdass omission, because the music for both West Side Story and Gypsy are rather iconic.

But let's get to some praise. It's truly lovely to see some familiar and talented faces back on the Broadway stage, like Gavin Lee and Beth Leavel (Kate Jennings Grant was not in the night I went, but her role was ably filled by Scarlett Strallen). Also shining were some faces I knew less well, like Joanna Riding nailing the patter in "Getting Married Today" and Jeremy Secomb bringing his powerful vocals to the role of Sweeney Todd. Bernadette is always Bernadette, but manages to do a delightful sendup of her concert persona as she sings "Broadway Baby" as an audition piece, asking the pianist to play it as slowly as possible, like "Bernadette does it." And Lea Salonga, well known for her clear and bright voice, shines in a new way by letting her bawdy and belty side out as Mrs. Lovett and Madame Rose.

There are lines that find new resonance these days. Bonnie Langford, nailing "I'm Still Here" with brassy aplomb, sings "I got through all of last year, and I'm here," and we feel the weight of surviving it together. And then there's the photo montage of Sondheim through the years, starting with infancy. When Bernadette looks at those photos (some of which include Steve with herself), and sings "Not a day goes by, not a single day, but you're somewhere a part of my life," we feel both her ache and ours. He's gone, but we keep him here with us.

The show ends with an audio of Sondheim singing the cut song "Love is in the Air," and I found myself weeping. The woman next to me asked if I was okay. All I could say was, "I miss him."

Jacob Dickey, Bernadette Peters, and the  cast perform "Sunday."
Photo by Matthew Murphy.