Sharp Critic : Christopher Soden

Deloris Van Cartier is a chanteuse at a disco nightclub where she keeps company with her friends. She is dating a married gangster named Vince La Rocco. He gives her a hideous blue jacket for Christmas. When she seeks him out to return it, she accidentally witnesses a murder. Fortunately, she’s able to escape his thugs, and seek help from the police. This will be no walk in the park, as La Rocco has eyes everywhere. They come up with the hot idea to hide her at St. Katharine’s Convent. Deloris is pretty snazzy with a lot of charming personality. Who would think to find her in a nunnery?

Perhaps the same question pondered by Reverend Mother. In all fairness, Deloris isn’t onboard, either. It just doesn’t seem like a good fit. But eventually Reverend Mother sees the wisdom in this ruse, and the money offered by the cops doesn’t hurt. Will Deloris rock the boat of religious observation? Deloris being Deloris isn’t defiant, she just has a knack for joie de vivre. These events bring out a tenderness in her we have haven’t seen before. She breaks through the weariness and monotony. When Reverend Mother orders Deloris to conduct the choir, the sisters find themselves gobsmacked and delighted.

Firehouse Theatre’s production of Sister Act is pitch perfect. The choreography is nimble and light. The singing confident and agile. The dialogue pointed and carefully timed. The cast overflows with gusto and panache. Not once have I caught a musical at Firehouse Theatre that was disappointing. Everyone professional, competent, and dedicated. The show closes this weekend, so don’t miss this riotous, rambunctious ride.

Firehouse Theatre presents Sister Act playing May 29-31st, 2026. 2535 Valley View Ln, Farmers Branch, TX, 75234. thefirehousetheatre.com (972) 620-3747

 

Donny owns a pawn shop, Bobby is his apprentice and Teach is the toxic alpha. They hang out at the pawn shop, play cards and chill. Donny’s taken Bobby under his wing, giving him errands, instruction, some watch and learn. Teach is lean and steaming, angry but chill. He’s not as kind-hearted as Donny, but not a total beast.

When Teach arrives Donny says he sold an Indian Head Nickel to some posh guy for nearly a hundred dollars. They’re stunned there are coins so precious they can net five figures. They’ve discovered he lives close by, and most likely has a cache of others. They plot to burglarize his house, and enlist Fletcher’s help, over the phone. Bobby is kept in the dark. They want to include him, but its past his pay grade.

Playwright David Mamet evokes American values at the very core. An antiquated coin depicting a Native American and a buffalo fetches a huge sum of money because it’s rare. America began with the Indigenous, who subsisted on buffaloes with gratitude and honor. How far have we dropped since then? When the burglary implodes, Teach and Donny  turn on Bobby. Teach melts down. He goes on a rampage. Our respect is torn to pieces.

In American Buffalo there is a code of street cred, masculinity, respect between men. Donny is the moral compass, Teach the loose wire, Bobby the student. Each expresses manhood in his own way: Donny’s paternal, Bobby’s deferential and Teach has his dukes up. He cleaves hard to his manhood, sometimes nearly clownish. His soft side at war with his warrior. He’s barely contained.

The Classics Theatre Project’s production of American Buffalo would have us fucking with a black grizzly. A fair amount of humor throughout until distrust and rage ignite. TCPT holds tight to Mamet’s jaundice and imperative. You feel that ferocity lurking in the pit of your stomach. We are in participating in something harrowing, something desperate,something deeply sad. TCTP’s American Buffalo is phenomenal, electrifying, and fearless. An adrenaline shot in your Coca-Cola.

The Classics Theatre Project presents David Mamet’s American Buffalo, May 15th-June 20th, 2026. Stone Cottage (adjacent to Addison Water Tower Theatre) 15650 Addison Rd. Addison, TX 75001. (214) 923-3619. tctpdfw@gmail.com. theclassicstheatreproject.com

 

 

Donny owns a pawn shop, Bobby is pretty much his apprentice and Teach is the toxic alpha. They hang out at the pawn shop, play cards and chill. Donny’s taken Bobby under his wing, giving him errands, instruction, some watch and learn. Teach is lean and steaming, angry but chill. He’s not as kind-hearted as Donny, but not a total beast.

When Teach arrives Donny says he sold an Indian Head Nickel to some posh guy for nearly a hundred dollars. They’re stunned there are coins so precious they can net five figures. They’ve discovered he lives close by, and most likely has a cache of others.They plot to burglarize his house, and enlist Fletcher’s help, over the phone. Bobby is kept in the dark. It’s past his pay grade.

Playwright David Mamet is evoking American values at the very core. An antiquated coin depicting a Native American and a buffalo fetches a huge sum of money because it is rare. America began with the Indigenous, who subsisted on buffalos with gratitude and honor. Not a single scrap was wasted. When the possibility of wealth is injected into the chemistry of Bobby, Donny and Teach, they turn on each other. When the plan goes sideways, Teach melts down.

In American Buffalo there’s a code of street cred, masculinity, respect between men. Donny is the moral compass, Teach the loose wire, Bobby the student. Each expresses manhood in his own way: Donny’s paternal, Bobby’s deferential and Teach has his dukes up. He cleaves hard to his manhood, nearly clownish.  His soft side at war with his warrior.

The Classics Theatre Project’s production of American Buffalo would have us fucking with a grizzly. A fair amount of humor throughout until distrust and rage ignite. TCPT holds tight to Mamet’s jaundice and imperative. You feel that ferocity lurking in the pit of your stomach. We are in participating in something harrowing, something desperate,something deeply sad. TCTP’s American Buffalo is phenomenal, electrifying, and fearless. An adrenaline shot in your Coca-Cola.

The Classics Theatre Project presents David Mamet’s American Buffalo, May 15th-June 20th, 2026. Stone Cottage (adjacent to Addison Water Tower Theatre) 15650 Addison Rd. Addison, TX 75001. (214) 923-3619. tctpdfw@gmail.com. theclassicstheatreproject.com

 

 

Donny owns a pawn shop, Bobby is pretty much his apprentice and Teach is the toxic alpha. They hang out at the pawn shop, play cards and chill. Donny’s taken Bobby under his wing, giving him errands, instruction, some watch and learn. Teach is lean and steaming, angry but chill. He’s not as kind-hearted as Donny, but not a total beast.

When Teach arrives Donny says he sold an Indian Head Nickel to some posh guy for nearly a hundred dollars. They’re stunned there are coins so precious they can net five figures. They’ve discovered he lives close by, and most likely has a cache of others. They plot to burglarize his house, and enlist Fletcher’s help, over the phone. Bobby is kept in the dark. They want to include him, but its past his pay grade.

Playwright David Mamet evokes American values at the very core. An antiquated coin depicting a Native American and a buffalo fetches a huge sum of money because it’s rare. America began with the Indigenous, who subsisted on buffaloes with gratitude and honor. How far have we dropped since then? When the burglary implodes, Teach and Donny  turn on Bobby. Teach melts down. He goes on a rampage. Our respect is torn to pieces.

In American Buffalo there is a code of street cred, masculinity, respect between men. Donny is the moral compass, Teach the loose wire, Bobby the student. Each expresses manhood in his own way: Donny’s paternal, Bobby’s deferential and Teach has his dukes up. He cleaves hard to his manhood, sometimes nearly clownish. His soft side at war with his warrior. He’s barely contained.

The Classics Theatre Project’s production of American Buffalo would have us fucking with a black grizzly. A fair amount of humor throughout until distrust and rage ignite. TCPT holds tight to Mamet’s jaundice and imperative. You feel that ferocity lurking in the pit of your stomach. We are in participating in something harrowing, something desperate,something deeply sad. TCTP’s American Buffalo is phenomenal, electrifying, and fearless. An adrenaline shot in your Coca-Cola.

The Classics Theatre Project presents David Mamet’s American Buffalo, May 15th-June 20th, 2026. Stone Cottage (adjacent to Addison Water Tower Theatre) 15650 Addison Rd. Addison, TX 75001. (214) 923-3619. tctpdfw@gmail.com. theclassicstheatreproject.com

The year is 1965 and Jim Quinn has crossed the radar of Carl Schmitt, the President of an exclusive boy’s school in New Hampshire. Jim is being interviewed and Schmitt is asking about Jim’s colorful past. Jim is frank and forthright, even when his motives seem inexplicable. Even to him. Schmitt is dubious but, when it comes to literature and right-brain thinking Jim’s beyond impressive. He is fully engaged with brilliant authors and seminal philosophers: not at all intimidated.

Jim is a live wire. He writes provocative poetry, punches the younger boys, steals a record collection (more or less a prank). He ruminates with his roommate, Austin, until late at night. None of this is atypical of teenage boys, especially when they get together. Jim is constantly acting out. He impulse control. He sees validity in everything he does. Too rebellious for his own good.  Supposedly his integrity collides with his academics.

Prodigal Son is John Patrick Shanley’s reflection on his contentious personalty and phenomenal cerebral skills. What makes us unique can be a two-edged scalpel. Schmitt and Alan Hoffman Jim’s English teacher) can see his potential, but if his future can be salvaged can be salvaged is an ongoing debate. Like Prometheus, Jim carries the gift of fire, juggling the astonishing with catastrophe.

The Second Chance Players staged Prodigal Son at Kitchen Dog’s new theater on 4774 Algiers. Director Caleb Ross and his intrepid cast: Jacob Waters (Jim Quinn) Hunter Howard (Alan Hoffman) Jeffrey Miller (Carl Schmitt) Stephanie Stark (Louise Schmitt) Patrick Britton (Austin Schmitt) mounted this somber, wrenching drama about what will and will not be forgotten. I’m pretty sure Socrates was into Ding Dong Ditch. The performances here are understated with a minimum of histrionics. Caleb Ross carried this dream project with him for a very long time. The result is poignant and unforgettable.

Watch this space for Second Chance Players future productions.

Second Chance Players presented Prodigal Son. It closed on Sunday May 10th.

Info@SecondChancePlayers.org

www.SecondChancePlayers.org

 

 

The year is 1965 and Jim Quinn has crossed the radar of Carl Schmitt, the President of an exclusive boy’s school in New Hampshire. Jim is being interviewed and Schmitt is asking about Jim’s colorful past. Jim is frank and forthright, even when his motives seem inexplicable, even to him. Schmitt is dubious but, when it comes to writing, literature and right-brain thinking Jim’s beyond impressive. He is fully engaged with brilliant authors and seminal philosophers, not at all intimidated.

Jim is a live wire. He writes provocative poetry, punches the younger boys, steals a record collection (more or less as a prank). He shares with his roommate, Austin, until late at night. None of this is atypical of teenage boys, especially when they get together. Jim is constantly acting out. He impulse control. He sees validity in everything he does. Too rebellious for his own good. His integrity collides with his academics.

Prodigal Son is John Patrick Shanley’s reflection on his contentious personalty and phenomenal cerebral skills. What makes us unique cab be a two-edged scalpel. Schmitt and Alan Hoffman Jim’s English teacher) can see his potential, but if his future can be salvaged can be salvaged is an ongoing debate. Like Prometheus, Jim carries the gift of fire, juggling the astonishing with catastrophe.

The Second Chance Players staged Prodigal Son at Kitchen Dog’s new theater on 4774 Algiers. Director Caleb Ross and his intrepid cast: Jacob Waters (Jim Quinn) Hunter Howard (Alan Hoffman) Jeffrey Miller (Carl Schmitt) Stephanie Stark (Louise Schmitt) Patrick Britton (Austin Schmitt) mounted this somber, wrenching drama about what will and will not be forgotten. I’m pretty sure Socrates was into Ding Dong Ditch. The performances here are understated with a minimum of histrionics. Caleb Ross carried this dream project with him for a very long time. The result is poignant and unforgettable.

Watch this space for Second Chance Players future productions.

Second Chance Players presented Prodigal Son. It closed on Sunday May 10th.

Info@SecondChancePlayers.org       www.SecondChancePlayers.org

 

Allen Contemporary Theatre’s current production Of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town is pensive, insightful, intriguing. Co-Directors Kathleen and Kevin Vaught have put their own spin on Wilder’s groundbreaking drama that captured the essence of American Middle-class values in Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire. Wilder’s bare bones approach must have been shocking when it opened in 1938. There’s not any scenery, a few pieces of furniture, lots of pantomime.

The Stage Manager explains the structure of the town. At the outset, he describes those whose jobs wake them up earliest. The doctor tending to the most recent births, the milkman and paperboy, making their rounds. Mrs. Webb and Mrs. Gibbs are up earliest too. The Stage Manager enumerates basic events throughout the world. Oddly enough, statistics only serve to make Grover’s Corners feel smaller. How many new arrivals. How many deaths. How many high school graduates settle down in the place where they grew. How many meals shared, vows taken, deaths in battle.

At the center lie George Gibbs and Emily Webb, two teenagers who connect while gazing out their bedroom windows. George is popular and Emily, very smart. As their relationship evolves, Emily cares enough to tell George he’s being egotistical. When they grasp (while sipping strawberry phosphates) that they’ve found  a life partner, Emily breaks into tears. We watch the Gibbs and Webbs in their nuclear dynamics: sibling rivalry, wives as hearthkeepers, husbands working till late at night, all with a strong sense of purpose.

Wilder makes indirect observations with finesse. The entrances and exits, set pieces that feel threadbare. Are the actors characters or playing the characters? Turns of phrase such as “crawling to the grave alone”….“something bigger than ourselves”. Emily yelling before the wedding: “I hate him [George] ! “ Not: I don’t know him, or I’m not ready. The Stage Manager ponders marriage as sacrament, or maybe the practical wisdom of living two by two? A Biblical reference or the nature of attachment? To take it a step further, why does the organist, Mr. Stimson, repeatedly get drunk?

When it’s made clear this town has little use for higher education or culture it doesn’t seem like just a matter of fact, but how things are. Is Wilder raising questions he expects us to answer, or (at least wonder) statement by omission? Not necessarily judging the provincial, but expository when the text and plot can feel pretty sparse.

Directors Kathleen and Kevin Vaught have done their part to imbue Our Town with warmth and sense of ancestry. The numerous antiquated familial photographs lining the upstage wall. Mrs. Webb tying up her hair, Howie Newsome’s aging Jersey Cow. George, overcome by dad’s admonishment. (George sniffles but doesn’t cry.) We sense the Vaughts are trying to inject some emotional presence. It’s not that the characters are cursory but relatively detached. Avoiding the full depth of their humanity.

Our Town pivots on Emily’s epiphany when she sees we’re too distracted for the miraculous in the everyday: “…goodbye to clocks ticking, and coffee, and freshly ironed dresses…” Sadness and sorrow culminating in a single revelation. The Vaughts focus our attention on this moment. Is Our Town a summation, a commentary, a depiction of humanity that is neither romanticized or trivialized, but just is?

Allen Contemporary Theatre presents: Our Town, playing May 1st-17th, 2026. 1210 E Main Street, #300, Allen, TX, United States, 75002 . (844) 822-8849. pr@allencontemporarytheatre.net

 

Julia and Patricia share the home where their mother passed. Patricia has a white-collar job with a good salary. Julia’s vocation as a teacher is more lofty. When she learns Patricia has landed a shot on the Flip & Fix show she’s appalled. The show refurbishes weary houses then markets them for a sizable profit. At least that’s the hope.

The chipper host arrives with a versatile crew. Contingencies arise: demolition, liability, cultural appropriation, all go into the mix.. Julia and Patricia fight over history the house that ties them to racial identity. Patricia’ s dismissive of Julia’s fanciful notions of incantation, metaphysical intervention, familial ghosts who mingle with the living. Patricia’s pragmatic and Julia’s intoxicated. As the game show goes forward misery and regret emerge. Seemingly innocuous entertainment becomes a kind of cannibalism. Articles of Patricia’s aspect are idolized and consumed.

Playwright Eliana Pipes creates a central metaphor for monetizing and trivializing the enigma of ancestry and recollection. The sacrament of cherishing loved ones and community. Patricia, like so many, craves a future without dread or exhaustion . The past, sketchy and too often painful, is no substitute for security. But, like D. H. Lawrence’s Rocking Horse Winner, the more you earn, the more you need. As Dream House  takes one turn and another, we watch their personal artifacts and clues to their past, dwindle and crumble.

Dream House is a marvel of tone shift: absurdity, menace, grief, cynicism. Intersection of clarity and bedlam. It’s a kick in the head to see Clare Floyd DeVries’ splendid set utterly destroyed before our eyes. The spectacle of one room swept away to replace another, less original. Dream House dazzles with layers of revelation, regret and yes, resignation. The unresolved, painful issues, the loss of ethnic identity for the sake of expediency, the strange symbiotic connection between white privilege and assimilation. Do we survive by trading in our complexity and uniqueness or do we forfeit it?

Kitchen Dog Theater presents Dream House playing through May 3rd, 2026. 4774 Algiers Street, Dallas, Texas 75207. kitchendogtheater.org. 214-953-1055.

 

Nick Cristano is up for a well-deserved promotion, but it’s not easy to explain to his grandparents.  Nick and his folks enjoy each other’s company, in the way only relatives can. They laugh, they squabble, they sing. They accept and appreciate you. Everything chipper and relaxed. Of course, elders have their own way of reasoning. It’s crazy-making. Like talking in French when it’s heard in Greek.

Hey Nicky, how’s it going with that redhead you’ve been dating? Gramps, I never dated a  redhead. What’s wrong with a redhead? Nothing, Gramps. Then why did you drop her? I didn’t drop anybody, Gramps.

When Nick explains he must move to another part of the country, they’re appalled. You could say they’re meddling, but they have a point. They invite an eligible girl to Sunday dinner. On the QT. This is ridiculously inappropriate, certainly, but she’s a catch. When they discuss the impact of moving, they’re not being manipulative. Their connection to Nick is solid. Formidable. It’s who they are. Nick no doubt has a say in his future, but how can he ignore his caring, nurturing, exasperating family? It feels impossible not to hope, but hurt is unavoidable.

Like Neil Simon, playwright Joe DiPietro alleviates pain with irony. Comedy turns on irony. The grandparents hit a conversational loop, and DiPietro revels in the absurd rhythm. Like Who’s on First?  DiPietro has a more subtle technique than Simon, his punchlines blend with less fanfare. With poise and authenticity, the humor and pathos come through.

Co-Directors Rachael Lindley and Lorna Woodford have done nicely by Over the River and Through the Woods, a narrative that ponders the loss that comes with a nuclear family. The decision to have only one generation under the roof. Over the River leans a bit more toward John Guare than Clifford Odets. It’s rare to see six actors (it feels like more) submerged in character without fuss or exaggeration. Charming, confident, ensemble work that sneaks up. Richardson Theatre Company has set the bar high with Over the River.  

C’mon. Do yourself a favor.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents: Over the River and Through the Woods: playing April 10th through May 3rd, 2026. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson, Texas 75080. 972-699-1130

 

Nick Cristano is up for a well-deserved promotion, but it’s not easy to explain to his grandparents.  Nick and his folks enjoy each other’s company, in the way only relatives can. They laugh, they squabble, they sing. They accept and appreciate you. Everything chipper and relaxed. Of course, elders have their own way of reasoning. It’s crazy-making. Like talking in French when it’s heard in Greek.

Hey Nicky, how’s it going with that redhead you’ve been dating? Gramps, I never dated a  redhead. What’s wrong with a redhead? Nothing, Gramps. Then why did you drop her? I didn’t drop anybody, Gramps.

When Nick explains he must move to another part of the country, they’re appalled. You could say they’re meddling, but they have a point. They invite an eligible girl to Sunday dinner. On the QT. This is ridiculously inappropriate, certainly, but she’s a catch. When they discuss the impact of moving, they’re not being manipulative. Their connection to Nick is solid. Formidable. It’s who they are. Nick no doubt has a say in his future, but how can he ignore his caring, nurturing, exasperating family? It feels impossible not to hope, but hurt is unavoidable.

Like Neil Simon, playwright Joe DiPietro alleviates pain with irony. Comedy turns on irony. The grandparents hit a conversational loop, and DiPietro revels in the absurd rhythm. Like Who’s on First?  DiPietro has a more subtle technique than Simon, his punchlines blend with less fanfare. With poise and authenticity, the humor and pathos come through.

Co-Directors Rachael Lindley and Lorna Woodford have done nicely by Over the River and Through the Woods, a narrative that ponders the loss that comes with a nuclear family. The decision to have only one generation under the roof. Over the River leans a bit more toward John Guare than Clifford Odets. It’s rare to see six actors (it feels like more) submerged in character without fuss or exaggeration. Charming, confident, ensemble work that sneaks up. Richardson Theatre Company has set the bar high with Over the River.  

C’mon. Do yourself a favor.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents: Over the River and Through the Woods: playing April 10th through May 3rd, 2026. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson, Texas 75080. 972-699-1130