Could there be a more romantic Valentine’s Day date than a ticket to The Year of Magical Wanking? This is the pointy end of Irish theatre, writes Lloyd Bradford Skye.
At three hours, Mozart’s adaptation of La Folle Journée, ou Le Mariage de Figaro is a trial for atrophying posterior muscles, but librettist Lorenzo da Ponte, Amadeus and Andrews ease the pain, writes Lloyd Bradford Syke.
The Global Mail opened its coverage of Australian arts on Monday with a curious piece from Stephen Crittenden about theatre blogging. Online writers haven't stopped talking about it since.
Almost four decades after it began its 15 year run, A Chorus Line is still a strikingly ambitious work. Glee has bred familiarity (and perhaps contempt) of this show, a master template for crafting contemporary musical theatre, writes Jason Whittaker.
Sir Humphrey and co. are back, in an entirely different format. Can the magic of Yes, Prime Minister be captured in Australian theatre? Critics Jason Whittaker and Luke Buckmaster, who were there at opening night, duke it out.
It’s not often a going-on-400-year-old play can make you squirm. In terms of sheer in-your-face confrontation, John Ford’s ‘Tis Pity She’s A Whore comes on strong, writes Lloyd Bradford Skye.
Ray Lawler’s Summer of the Seventeenth Doll is a play at once deceivingly complex and disarmingly simplistic, a steady drip-drip-drip of social commentary and kitchen sink drama, writes Luke Buckmaster.
Throughout his career Stefan Kaegi has crossed visual and performing arts borders and has specialised in the arse end of avant garde. Radio Muezzin explores Islamist themes but leaves an odorous after taste, writes Lloyd Bradford Syke.
The Sydney Theatre Company's latest dance production, based on Christos Tsiolkas' The Slap, is sophisticated, highly original and amusing, writes Lloyd Bradford Syke.
A stand-up comedy club entrepreneur in Chicago is using the American economic recession not to scale back his business but to expand it, writes Gary Strauss.
