We shared a feeling that writing about The Fugitive Kind was a date with destiny.
Truly, I think it would be almost impossible to overpraise Anna Magnani in a performance that’s absolutely riveting from start to finish
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: nobody hits rock bottom like Susan Hayward.
In I Can’t Imagine Tomorrow, we’re contending with Kim Stanley and the last gasp of the Method.
It is interesting to consider how strongly Inge focuses on women (mostly single or widowed) and sex, particularly from his position as a (closeted) gay man.
Like any good gay theatergoers, we seek out Tennessee Williams revivals with the fervor of truffle-sniffing pigs.
Tell us: Filth or dementia?
Hasten thee to feed another quarter of conversation for The Talk of the Town!
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