Reviews: Last News

The Lifespan of a Fact (★★★☆☆), an engaging drama by Jeremy Kareken, David Murrell, and Gordon Farrell, dives right into the abyss in search of what’s true within a soon-to-be-published, nonfiction essay that’s potentially full of fudged facts and fabrications.Either distinction falls over the line from plain old truth. Capable journalists, historians, and other writers of non-fiction are trusted to know the difference, and to practice something like a code of honor in keeping it real for their readers, who shouldn’t have to fact-check every detail.The play — making its D.C.

Tina: The Tina Turner Musical (★★★☆☆), which just shimmied into the National Theatre, three stops into a 30-city national tour.But the show’s creators, including book writer Katori Hall, a Pulitzer winner for her drama The Hot Wing King, don’t seem to have been too sure what to do with Turner’s cache of classics, succeeding only half the time at persuasively reimagining the songs within the context of the singer’s tumultuous life story.You know the story, told via Turner’s multiple memoirs, plus the beloved 1993 biopic What’s Love Got to Do with It and the stellar 2021 documentary Tina, not to mention semi-autobiographical songs like “Nutbush City Limits.”Tina the musical turns “Nutbush City Limits” into a rousing spiritual, dominated by the gospel wail of Ann Nesby portraying Tina’s Gran Georgeanna. One of the savvier uses of Turner’s catalog, the number introduces young Anna-Mae Bullock (a delightful Ayvah Johnson), a little girl with a big voice, from a broken home in rural Tennessee.In another crafty use of an early hit, teenage Anna-Mae, played on press night by the equally big-voiced Naomi Rodgers (the role is played on select nights by Zurin Villanueva), is introduced by sister Alline (Parris Lewis) to the faster scene in St.

Heroes of the Fourth Turning (★★★☆☆) at Studio Theatre, might be a few degrees shy of riveting, but it’s very good.Part juicy reunion drama, part theatrical symposium on Catholic conservatism during the Trump years, the play brings together former Catholic university classmates Justin (Gregory Connors), Kevin (Louis Reyes McWilliams), and Teresa (Laura C. Harris) for a fraught night of healthy and unhealthy debate.Seven years after graduating from the Transfiguration College of Wyoming, they’ve gathered at Justin’s modest home on the outskirts of the school’s small Wyoming town, taking stock of their lives.

Special (★★★★☆), it’s easy to see why a song that reveled in drama and clapped back against haters and internet mobs didn’t make the cut.Her fourth album and second major studio release is a far cry from the nonchalance and bristliness of “Rumors,” and is stronger for it.Special is a lovefest from beginning to end. Living in Lizzo’s world means never having to argue for your worth or desirability.

American Prophet: Frederick Douglass in His Own Words (★★★☆☆), in its world-premiere production at Arena Stage, wisely draw directly from the source for their expansive, though not exhaustive, biography of the great abolitionist, author, publisher, statesman, escaped slave, and public speaker.The bulk of Douglass’ lines and lyrics in the show are words that the man either spoke or wrote, interpreted and interpolated fluidly by book writers Charles Randolph-Wright and Marcus Hummon.Randolph-Wright also directs, while Grammy-winner Hummon composed music and lyrics for the score, which floats between R&B, pop, and gospel influences, but stays too comfortably within theater conventions.The music doesn’t start down the most adventurous path. Opening with Douglass plaintively singing “What Does Freedom Look Like?” feels way too obvious.The follow-up number, “Going to the Great House,” turns out to be a sharply satirical subversion of happy-dancing-slave tropes, but then shifts into a sober — and, again, very on-the-nose — “Wade in the Water,” complete with choreography reminiscent of Alvin Ailey’s “Revelations.”Fortunately, the show goes bolder in its characterization of Frederick Douglass.

They/Them (★★☆☆☆), writer-director John Logan’s seemingly well-intentioned horror-thriller set at a queer conversion camp.Aided by the sunnily sinister setting, Logan does strike a properly foreboding atmosphere as a diverse group of teens arrive at Whistler Camp, all of them innocent but not entirely unsuspecting.Unlike the blissfully stupid sexpots who might populate a Friday the 13th movie, these young gay, lesbian, bi, trans, and nonbinary campers are wary and guarded from the moment they’re greeted by cultish camp leader Owen Whistler.In a canny bit of casting, Whistler is played by Kevin Bacon, who, of course, appeared as one of those dim sexpots in the original Friday the 13th.His character Jack famously died by having an arrow rammed through his throat as he lounged in bed smoking a post-coital joint.

Hypochondriac (★★★☆☆), gay pottery-maker Will (Zach Villa) is visited by The Wolf, a glowing-eyed figure manifested from his boyhood trauma.When Will was 12 years old, his own mother tried to kill him. Heimann depicts the scene — Mom (Marlene Forte) and young Will (Ian Inigo) alone in a rented cabin where she almost strangles him to death — with a matter-of-factness that calls to mind tragic news stories about mothers who murderously turn on their own children.Will’s mom isn’t evil, apparently, but suffered a psychotic break that would land her in a mental hospital for years.

To Kill a Mockingbird (★★★★☆), Aaron Sorkin’s riveting adaptation of Harper Lee’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.At some point in U.S. history, the race, class, and gender dynamics driving Lee’s combustible scenario might feel quaint, laughably antiquated, obsolete.

Perfume Genius, has proven to be an expert in walking that fine line. He has crafted a sound that is all his own, and although his experimental edge has always been there, it is never weird for its own sake.If it can be said to be weird, it is because its ideas — queerness, the interplay of sexual and sensual desire, and the inherent strangeness of inhabiting a frail body made of meat — tend to provoke discomfort and get relegated into that general category of weirdness.Hadreas’ sixth studio album, Ugly Season, (★★★☆☆) take things to a new level with a singularly challenging sound.

Rufus Does Judy at Carnegie Hall is an odd pop culture artifact, not least because it pulled off the amazing feat of becoming iconic itself.His tribute to Judy was campy and affectionate all at once, with an appearance by his sister Martha lending the album its own Judy-and-Liza moment. The performance and the album that came out of it were hits, and several of those songs are still staples in his live performances.Wainwright’s fascination with Judy’s most legendary performance gets a second wind with Rufus Does Judy at Capitol Studios (★★★★☆), a record that came out of a studio session performed and streamed with little fanfare last year.

Algorhythm (★★☆☆☆) represents an attempt to take his music to the next level, albeit with uneven results.Hall has billed Algorhythm as something of an homage to the ’80s, although “infused” with ’80s sounds and elements rather than a lazy copy-paste.The album begins with “Dance Forever,” a synthpop banger that delivers nicely on that promise.It’s very danceable and very Todrick with its high-energy beat ready-made for a high-intensity workout playlist, with a captivating ’80s shimmer layered over it. Hall also flexes the higher ends of his vocal range for Prince-like effect, an interesting innovation that he brings out again a few more times throughout the album.“Dance Forever” turns out to be a bit of an outlier as the album progresses.

There’s Always the Hudson (★★★★☆) follows partners-in-crime Lola and T all over New York City in one turbulent night that could end anywhere in the five boroughs.Although, for Woolly Mammoth’s terrific world-premiere production, director Jess McLeod and scenic designer Misha Kachman have boldly suspended over the action a haunting clue of exactly where Lola and T’s odyssey might lead, foreshadowing a final destination from which one or both might not return.Whether apprehended or not, that hint won’t spoil a thing, but rather adds a tinge of pathos to the powerful undercurrent of danger bubbling beneath the pair’s audacious mission. Lola and T, played by Lázaro and Justin Weaks, are sexual assault survivors who met and became friends in a support group.

High as Hope, Florence and the Machine’s latest release, Dance Fever (★★★★☆) finds Welch and her band embracing a beautifully baroque grandiosity.So much of Dance Fever feels deeply cathartic, finding release in lush arrangements throughout and a handful of soaring, anthemic tracks. On its face, the album delivers on its label, following up the slow-burning opener with “Free,” probably the album’s most straightforwardly danceable single.But Welch loves a multilayered meaning, and unsurprisingly, she takes a broader view of the idea of dancing fever.

John Proctor Is the Villain (★★★★☆) grabs hold early, building through pungent twists towards a fierce, freeing climax.Riffing on a feminist reading of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, Belflower’s high school-set crucible, like Miller’s play, operates adroitly as both think-piece and thrilling drama. As Miller used the Salem witch trials to obliquely portray the witch hunt of the McCarthy-led Red Scare, Belflower remixes The Crucible‘s plot to produce an incisive allegorical take on another age of paranoia, fear, and accusations: the #MeToo era.The play is set in the bygone days of 2018, and it’s through that cultural lens that the kids in Mr.

it’s not a trip it’s a journey (★★★★☆), centering the four-woman dramedy around a character who can’t put into words the pain she’s feeling, yet talks plenty in trying to make sense of it all.In the throes of a crisis perhaps too profound to be reduced to a few sentences, June, a seemingly stable and strong New Yorker, speaks in abstractions and ellipses. She plucks analogies from wherever she can, searching for an image or expression that might help her understand her pain, so she can in turn help her friends understand what’s consuming her.June’s struggle to articulate her feelings comes through in the clipped, pointed, often very funny, dialogue spoken between her and the three dear friends — Willie, Frankie, and Rain — whom she invites on a girls’ road trip to the Grand Canyon.June needs the journey.

Mean Girls (★★★☆☆) are reprising roles from the 2019-2020 tour, and their experience shows in the well-honed comedy and character work on display.As Gretchen Wieners and Karen Smith — two of The Plastics, the pastel-pretty apex predators of the story’s high school jungle — Megan Masako Haley and Jonalyn Saxer know where all the laughs are. They nail Gretchen and Karen’s dramatic beats, too.And Mary Kate Morrissey, with the pipes to elevate every song she takes on, delivers snark without resting on stereotype in her portrayal of proud misfit Janis Sarkisian, eager to see The Plastics toppled from atop the North Shore High food chain.Janis might get her wish with the arrival of new student Cady Heron, played by Danielle Wade, also reprising her role from the previous tour.An American girl raised in Kenya, Cady hasn’t a clue how to navigate the social savagery of a suburban Illinois high school, but she learns fast from Janis and vividly gay fellow outcast Damian Hubbard, performed by Eric Huffman, another in the cast with an engaging take on their character and firm handle on the comic timing.Damian and Janis’ tutelage in numbers like “Where Do You Belong?” sets Cady up for finding popularity.

Private (★★★★☆), would insist on at least that level of privacy in their own home.Others, like Corbin (Eric Berryman), Georgia’s “promising, up-and-coming engineer” husband, might more easily be persuaded to drop the fragile veil of privacy if it meant finally earning real money.Offered a dream job and fat salary at a Fortune 500 tech company, Corbin is ready to sign away “access to anything” to seal the deal.

Grace (★★★★☆), the audience was on their feet, ready to bathe the performer in a juicy, well-earned moment of gratitude.Had Payton launched into an immediate reprise, nobody would have minded. “Again?” is a really good song, among several composed by Nolan Williams, Jr., who also directs the fine eight-piece orchestra, and has got this ensemble cast’s vocals all the way together — save for a straggler or two.Director-choreographer Robert Barry Fleming has likewise fit the cast together firmly in their excellent portrayal of a large extended Black family in Philadelphia gathered for the memorial of their dear, deceased matriarch, Gran’Me.Preparing a picnic in the garden behind the family’s restaurant, Minton’s Place, a one-hundred-year tradition in the community and in their family, the Minton cousins and siblings and aunties comprise a lot of moving parts.Backgrounded by a recently dedicated mural that rises stories above the garden, family members are in and out of the kitchen, up and down steep staircases, carrying food, serving food, eating, singing about, dancing with, and arguing about food.All the movement and prop business looks effortless, as the cast weaves around Jason Ardizzone-West’s spare but expressive set.

Once Twice Melody (★★★★☆) was released in four installments, with a chapter landing once per month. Their decision to slowly titrate the album’s release allowed it to reveal its strength in an almost teasing way, as the majesty of the whole became gradually more apparent as the second and third chapters dropped.

Everybody Loves a Happy Ending, true to its title, seemed to put a satisfying capstone on their career, and the subsequent years of extensive touring as self-described “late-blooming road warriors” seemed like something between an epilogue and a victory lap. But defying expectations has been the theme of their late career, and after years coasting on their well-deserved iconic status, it turns out Tears for Fears had another album in them after all.The Tipping Point (★★★☆☆) is not only their first studio album in 17 years, but for Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith, it represents a kind of hard-won artistic freedom.

Dear Mapel (★★★★☆) also profoundly honors the lost art of letter-writing. That distinctly direct and intimate mode of expressing what’s most deeply felt, and saying what often can’t be spoken, serves as Psalm’s chosen means of addressing the father he barely knew.Via letters to Mapel, the award-winning performer and playwright vividly evokes his own coming-of-age enriched by art and music, while examining the main thing, or person, that went missing.For this world premiere production, director and production designer Natsu Onoda Power engulfs Mosaic’s Sprenger Theatre stage in a sweeping deluge of paper missives.