Weekly Margin 2026, W6: The Porch on Windy Hill, Hans Litten: The Jew Who Cross-Examined Hitler, Mother Russia, High Spirits

2/02/26: The Porch on Windy Hill

What: Urban Stages presents the return of "a new play with old music," about Mira, who inadvertently reunites with her estranged grandfather while on a hootenanny-hunting road trip with her enthusiastic grad school boyfriend.

And? This is a rare special piece that is perfectly tailored to the three performers at its center (which makes sense as two of them are also cowriters on the piece): each adept at a variety of stringed instruments, from banjo and dulcimer to guitar and mandolin to violin (or fiddle, depending on the song) and urhu (a two-stringed Chinese instrument with a long narrow neck and a small wooden soundbox). As the three characters trade stories and song across the porch of Edgar (Mira's grandfather)'s porch, the timbre varies: when they play together in traded melody lines, singing along in a joyous shifting harmony, everything seems easy. But between the songs the unhealed wounds reopen, confronting unresolved tensions and heartbreak. Music may be Mira and Edgar's connector, but it's not the thing that can actually mend what's broken. Words spoken a cappella are the only road to reconciliation. The dialogue sections themselves are uneven, pace-wise, and need to be sharpened and tightened. But the emotional beats are still there and hit well, especially as performed by Tora Nogami Alexander as the closed-off but hopeful Mira, and David M. Lutken as a beautifully understated--and also a bit closed-off--and homespun pure Edgar (the third voice in their trio, Morgan Morse, plays Beckett, who keeps verging over into annoying and intrusive. But he does it so well, I have to think it's deliberate). But oh, when the three of them play--when they're playing, harmonizing, improvising--the joy of it, the beauty of the sound. When they play, none of the rest of it seems to matter, if we can just be here and listen to them go.

Tora Nagomi Alexander (Mira), Morgan Morse (Beckett), and
David M. Lutken (Edgar). Photo by Ben Hider.

2/04/26: Hans Litten: The Jew Who Cross-Examined Hitler

What: Douglas Lackey's new bioplay about the attorney, Hans Litten, who in his capacity as private prosecutor questioned Hitler on the stand to answer for the violence of his storm troopers. Later, when Hitler assumes the role of Chancellor, Litten is specifically targeted for imprisonment, interrogation, and torture. Though his family and allies campaign for his release, he ultimately dies in Dachau by suicide.

And? Having appreciated him in a number of supporting roles over the past few years, I'm pleased to see Daniel Yaiullo step into a leading role. He leads the cast with gentleness and intelligence, tracing Litten's arc from a confident young man of conviction, to a battered and beaten-down shell still determined to hold onto his honor as well as his love for music and the written word. The ensemble is a bit uneven under him, but Zack Calhoon's turn as Hitler is strikingly understated, and Dave Stishan makes an affably practical Barbasch (a colleague of Litten's), contrasted with the glowering visage when he plays a stormtrooper. The design is in large part utilitarian if unremarkable, except for a transformative and stomach-dropping moment that closes out the first act. The script itself is clunky and overlong with a bit of a dragging pace right now--issues that could be fixed with a tightening and focus to a theme, rather than a strict adherence to the facts as they happened. I'm not saying make things up; I'm saying make it a story rather than a biography. It's a story worth telling.

Foreground: Daniel Yaiullo as Hans Litten.
Background: Zack Calhoon as Adolf Hitler.
Photo by Nejamin Rivera.

Weekly Margin 2026, W5: The Disappear, Data

1/27/26: The Disappear

What: Audible's Minetta Lane Theatre presents Eric Schmidt's new play about an insufferable and  narcissistic screenwriter/director and his long-suffering (and more prolific) wife who are pressured into adapting one of her novels into a film, amidst his chronic infidelities.

And? Honestly this one never quite gelled for me. There's talent onstage, for sure, but the story and characters are just kind of there without surprises or much inspiration.

Anna Mirodin, Madeline Brewer, and Hamish Linklater as
Dolly Blair-Braxton, Julie Wells, and Benjamin Braxton.
Photo by Jeremy Daniel.

1/28/26: Data

What: The Lucille Lortel Theatre hosts Matthew Libby's play about a coder who realizes his new predictive algorithm is primed for use by a government overreach that could endanger many people including his family. 

And? This was profoundly by the books, with each story beat entirely predictable (#irony) and therefore unsurprising. We've seen this story before, many times; just this time it involves AI.

Sophia Lillis, Karan Brar, and Justin H. Min as Riley, Maneesh,
and Alex. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

Weekly Margin 2026, W4: Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York), The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, Murder at Midnight

1/21/26: Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York)

What: The Broadway transfer of the West End two-hander musical about a young British man visiting New York for the first time to attend the wedding of a father he's never met, and his antics with the sister of the (much younger than the groom) bride.

And? It's cute. It's definitely cute. Both actors are doing good work (nice to see Christiani Pitts again). I like Soutra Gilmour's seemingly simple but magic box surprise of a scenic design. Several of the songs in the second half are clever. But I was not in a good headspace when I saw this--which is not the show's fault--so I found a lot of the humor unimpressive, the plot turns predictable, the first half of the score unsurprising, and the piece as a whole not unusual enough to transcend any of that. Someone said to me it's being described as this season's Maybe Happy Ending, and I can see that, in terms of a small-cast chamber musical telling a sweet story of two polar opposite people on a quest learning to appreciate each other. But Two Strangers slides closer to a number of movies I've already seen, whereas MHE surprises in staging, scenic and projection design, clever lyrics and earned character arcs, and ultimately managing to skirt a number of predictable archetypes of this type of story to show us something new.

Two Strangers doesn't show us something new, even if it is charming enough at what it's showing us. I don't want to come down to hard on it. But I think it got overhyped for me, and then with my brain being what it was when I saw the show, I was underwhelmed.

Christiani Pitts and Sam Tutty as Robin and Dougal.
Photo by Matthew Murphy.

1/22/26: The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

What: The Off-Broadway revival of Rachel Sheinkin and William Finn's adorable musical about, well, what the title says, and the oddball kids who compete.

And? A perfectly fine and fun revival, if not particularly transformative. The sweet and tart nature of the show remains intact, as well as the humor. And it's good to hear this score live again. I had hoped to catch Justin Cooley, a delight in Kimberly Akimbo, but he was out; luckily, his understudy Jahbril Cook did excellent and endearing work. The contemporary script updates were mostly fun, and a good way to keep surprising people who already know the show well from its original run. I particularly enjoyed a number of the women in the cast: Jasmine Amy Rogers (Miss Betty Boop herself!) is an endearingly earnest Olive without being cloying, Leana Rae Concepcion's Marcy is a hilarious taut wire until her euphoric explosion in my favorite song in the show, "I Speak Six Languages," and the always excellent Lilli Cooper is polished, wryly funny, and in excellent voice as the bee's emcee Rona Lisa Peretti. My one real beef with this production is the missed opportunity seized by the original production. When this show first arrived on Broadway back in the aughts, it featured three principal roles played by larger bodied actors. It was great representation of three talented performers (and their talented understudies and replacements--I got to see Josh Gad), and there were no jokes made about their size. With this revival cast, there is none of that, and it's a damn shame.

The company of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.
Photo by Joan Marcus.

Streaming Theater

• Original Theatre's Murder at Midnight.

Weekly Margin 2026, W3: Try/Step/Trip, The Great Escape, Fiddler on the Roof

1/12/26: Try/Step/Trip

What: The Living Word Project presents Dahlak Braithwaite's non-linear interrogation of a young Black man's experience within a court-mandated rehab program, utilizing the the language of hip hop, step, and spoken word.

And? full review here.

Dahlak Brathwaite, center-ish, and the Los Angeles cast of
Try/Step/Trip. Photo by MarKing IV Photography.

1/16/26: The Great Escape

What: Ruthie Scarpino brings her clown, four-year-old Apfel Tucas, to New York with the story of her daring escape from Rosh Hashanah services to find the snack stash at her synagogue.

And? Pretty freaking adorable. Scarpino's well-gifted in the body- and gesture-isolation needed to do effective mime work, and her guileless persona as young Apfel endears her to the audience even as she continually drafts them into helping her physicalize her imaginings and enact the story of her great escape.

Ruthie Scarpino as Apfel Tucas. Photo source.

Margin Notes: Try/Step/Trip

Try/Step/Trip

Seen on: Monday, 1/12/26.

The Los Angeles cast of Try/Step/Trip.
Photo by MarKing IV Photography.

Plot and Background

The Living Word Project presents Dahlak Brathwaite's non-linear interrogation of a young Black man's experience within a court-mandated rehab program, utilizing the language of hip hop, step, and spoken word, as part of the 2026 Under the Radar Festival. As "Anonymous" navigates rehab and the systemic external expectations placed on him by society for the intersectional parts of his identity, he must also navigate his own sense of self, independent of these markers.

Thoughts:

Brathwaite's work is instantly kinetic, rhythmic, and engaging as he summons the ensemble from his place at the Conductor's station (a setup including keyboard, soundboard, and microphone). They jog out in perfect percussive synchronicity to the beat he's built, chased by the Conductor's spoken word introduction of the cyclical nature of his story and this performance, and it becomes clear to the audience that we're in the hands of a confident, polished, and virtuosic writer/composer/star. Anonymous, the younger version of the Conductor, lands himself in group rehab with the charismatic Samples, always on the verge of relapse; the self-possessed Mary, acknowledging her indulgences but committed to staying clean; Steve, a recovering cocaine addict and lone white character, whose frantic energy is maintained with a new fixation of espressos; and Pastor, the group's leader and a firm advocate of religion as salvation from addiction.

Anonymous, after delineating a series of police aggression--stop and frisks over the years that yielded nothing--finds himself in rehab after finally being stopped while in possession of mushrooms. Though apparently not an actual addict, he enters the program to avoid prison because "we been locked up since the day we arrived" anyway. But what he learns is that his inescapable identity as a Black man in America subjects him to systemic proscriptions of that very identity, regardless of his actions. As he says, he "seems to be stuck in the same role/No one wondered why [he] was there./[He] was just playing the role." And in this framework, he is volleyed from law enforcement prejudices to the criminal court with a seedy public defender, to a group rehab where he encounters two men vying for the position of his mentor: Pastor, who wields his religion like a cudgel against a young man who never felt at home in the church; and Samples, who encourages him to embrace hip hop as a liberation, to embrace the tradition of being an American Black man descended from enslaved people. The sticky part of either of these conflicting credos is that Anonymous himself is the child of immigrants and a first-generation American. So any identity offered to him--be it a Baptist church, a hip hop artist articulating his generational pain, or a criminal waiting to be caught--does not truly speak to who he is, even as he tries on different identities in search of a truer understanding of himself.

Weekly Margin 2026, W2: Picnic at Hanging Rock

1/05/25: Picnic at Hanging Rock: The Musical

What: A musical adaptation of Joan Lindsay's novel about a schoolgirl picnic in Victoria, Australia where several girls and a schoolteacher mysteriously go missing. As the search for the missing girls continues, the remaining students and teachers slowly start to fracture themselves, the damage from the tragedy stretching out to encompass them.

And? What a weird weird story. I'm half-tempted to read the novel, but from what I've learned it has as dissatisfying and inconclusive an ending as the musical does. The show is full of strong performers (and it's refreshing to see another female-dominated musical), but the staging feels very cramped on the Greenwich House stage. The scenic design, though visually striking, cinches the cast in, and then there is choreo of the seven students trying valiantly to not knock themselves against anything as they spin. I don't think it needed to be this claustrophobic; I think the Greenwich House Theater is actually maneuverable enough to allow for a more expansive performance space to really let the story and performers breathe (this is, after all, where the pie shop Sweeney Todd played, when it was still the Barrow Street Theater).

The company of Picnic at Hanging Rock. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Weekly Margin 2026, W1: Marjorie Prime, Twelfth Night

1/03/25: Marjorie Prime

What: 2nd Stage revival of Jordan Harrison's play about Marjorie, a woman in her 80s with Alzheimer's interacting with a new technology of holographic people called Primes who are taught to be the embodiment of lost love ones, through the stories told to them by those who still remember. Marjorie's adult daughter Tess struggles with the idea of this technology, both as an evocation of her dead father and as an imperfect and filtered version of reality: a Walter who is taught a gussied up version of his marriage to Marjorie and who isn't told about his son Damien who died many years ago.

And?  The wildest thing about this play to me is that it was written years before ChatGPT existed, because it seems like such a good conversation piece to have in regards to that particular AI application, full of half-truths culled from many sources, but also full of hallucinations (and frankly terrible counting skills--ask my sister). Walter Prime tells Marjorie the story of the night he proposed, but Marjorie asks him to overwrite it so they saw Casablanca rather than My Best Friend's Wedding. The death of their son Damien irrevocably changed the entire family, and yet Marjorie hasn't spoken Damien's name since he died. Walter Prime learns from her the story of their marriage, their daughter, their two dogs, but not a word about their son. And as each memory is overwritten with a newer glossed-over draft, it steps further and further away from reality and into the realm of fairy tales. Spoilers ahead, so stop reading now if you don't want them! As each subsequent character passes away, to be reincarnated into their blank page version to be written and rewritten, we step further and further away from reality: each new self has softened edges, removing conflict and unkindness, erasing trauma and baggage for theoretically easier communication, but instead creating smudged carbon copies. In the final sequence, the three remaining Primes sit around a table telling each other their stories, each one not quite true, but yet in full consensus. It's an excellent demostration of the inferiority of AI art to human-created art: AI art can regurgitate and collage, but it cannot invent, whereas human-created art can do both. The final sequence of these three Primes in their loop of half-truths and elided facts also got me thinking about the line I heard once, that you only truly die when there's no one left alive who remembers you (Tom Stoppard's Leopoldstadt explores this theme beautifully). Here at the end when only Primes remain, with no one left alive to remember Damien, the poor unhappy son is dead at last.

June Squibb and Cynthia Nixon as Marjorie and Tess.
Photo by Joan Marcus.

Streaming Theater

• Shakespeare in the Park's summer production of Twelfth Night, hosted on PBS.