Entertainment
Playwrights, back in the spotlight on Broadway, kick-start New York's fall theater season
Reports of the demise of the straight play on Broadway are greatly exaggerated, at least by the evidence of the fall theater season that has come front-loaded with high-profile drama.
Sam Mendes’ searing production of Jez Butterworth’s “The Hills of California” at the Broadhurst Theatre, hands down the best play I saw in a spree of late September playgoing, has become the essential ticket for discerning New York theatergoers this fall. Ayad Akhtar’s “McNeal,” starring Robert Downey Jr. in his Broadway debut at Lincoln Center Theater’s Vivian Beaumont, didn’t live up to expectations. But who could pass up the opportunity to hear from one of our sharpest playwrights on a subject that has already begun challenging our sense of reality, AI.
I was scheduled to see Jen Silverman’s “The Roommate,” starring that most enticing Broadway odd couple, Patti LuPone and Mia Farrow, but illness in the cast scuttled my plans. Still, I managed to pack in, on a four-day itinerary, David Henry Hwang’s “Yellow Face” (starring Daniel Dae Kim) at Roundabout Theatre Company’s Todd Haimes Theatre, Max Wolf Friedlich’s “Job” at the Hayes Theater, and in my one off-Broadway run, James Ijames’ “Good Bones” at the Public Theater. (I also caught the jaunty Broadway revival of “Once Upon a Mattress,” about which I’ll have more to say when the production, starring Sutton Foster, opens at the Ahmanson Theatre in December.)
Daniel Dae Kim in the play “Yellow Face.”
(Joan Marcus)
It was a pleasure to re-encounter “Yellow Face,” which had its world premiere at the Mark Taper Forum in 2007. Leigh Silverman, who directed that production, has returned to helm the play’s Broadway premiere, which runs through Nov. 24. This clever comedy, a self-referential work in which Hwang harks back to a theatrical controversy he found himself embroiled in after speaking out against the casting of Jonathan Pryce as a Eurasian character in the 1991 Broadway premiere of “Miss Saigon.” The uproar that followed was more than the Tony-winning playwright had bargained for. But he decided to tackle some of the questions about racial identity that emerged from the casting brouhaha in his play “Face Value,” a spectacular flop that closed in previews on Broadway in 1993.
In “Yellow Face,” Hwang reassembles these related events in a comedy that introduces a fictional device to what is otherwise a straightforward recounting. DHH, the playwright’s surrogate, is now played by Kim, a magnetic screen star (“Lost,” “Hawaii Five-0”) with Hollywood sex appeal to spare. Any male writer would be flattered to be played by Kim, but the casting is delectably ironic in a play that recalls a time when producers would throw up their hands when asked to find an Asian American leading man to anchor a film or Broadway show.
Silverman’s production, in other respects, doesn’t quite seem as comfortable blown up on a big Broadway stage. Some of the comic acting comes off as cartoonish, but the writing is so smart, fluid and free that it hardly matters. And the scenes between Kim’s DHH and Ryan Eggold’s Marcus, the purely invented figure in the play, revel in the hilarious hypocrisies that Hwang impishly sends up.
The conceit of the play is that DHH has accidentally cast a non-Asian performer as the lead in “Face Value,” and Marcus, grateful for this jump-start to his acting career, takes on a communal advocacy role that only makes the situation more farcically dangerous. DHH is afraid of losing face over his role in making Marcus an Asian American star. He came up with the bright idea of claiming that the actor was of Siberian Jewish heritage when learning the truth of his identity. As the accidental spokesperson for politically conscious casting, he’d rather not be hoisted on his own petard.
Hwang’s self-irony is part of the comic wonder of “Yellow Face.” But what is especially refreshing about the play is the way it approaches profoundly serious matters of identity politics with a light touch. Hwang is too agile a playwright to be doctrinaire. He recognizes what must be redressed, but he refuses to lose his sense of humor in the struggle or exempt himself from the human comedy that may be the only reliable equal opportunity employer.
Peter Friedman and Sydney Lemmon in “Job” at Broadway’s Helen Hayes Theater.
(Emilio Madrid)
“Job,” which had a much talked-about run last fall off-Broadway at the Soho Playhouse, moved to Broadway’s Helen Hayes Theater this summer and might be the sleeper of the season. A two-character work, the play (which is scheduled to close on Oct. 27) stars veteran Peter Friedman and Broadway newcomer Sydney Lemmon, a Yale School of Drama graduate who happens to be the granddaughter of Jack Lemmon.
Why has Friedlich’s play become so popular with New York theatergoers? The situation of a young woman showing up at a psychotherapist’s office with a gun sets up a self-contained dramatic situation that audiences seem to relish. Lemmon plays Jane, a content moderator at a tech company, who had a breakdown at the office after being exposed to the most horrific videos and now needs a psychologist to sign off on her return to work. Friedman takes on the role of Loyd, a San Francisco shrink who, in a period of time shorter than two sessions, must somehow dissuade Jane from pulling the trigger.
The contrivances of the situation are inescapable, despite the scrupulous honesty of the performers in director Michael Herwitz’s charged production. (As the Berkeley-educated, aging hippie therapist, Friedman is especially good at dispensing professional empathy to save his own life). The play contains a twist that wild horses couldn’t drag out of me, but how convinced you’ll be depends on your willingness to succumb to a plot that has been carefully programmed to ratchet up the dramatic tension. I remained at a skeptical remove, but I appreciated the absorption of my fellow audience members, who were more than happy to suspend disbelief and hop on an 80-minute-dramatic thrill ride.
Khris Davis, from left, Susan Kelechi Watson, and Tea Guarino in the New York premiere of “Good Bones,” written by James Ijames and directed by Saheem Ali.
(Joan Marcus)
The final play on my itinerary was “Good Bones,” by Ijames, a playwright I’ve been eager to get to know better after “Fat Ham,” his brilliantly hilarious Pulitzer Prize-winning riff on “Hamlet.” “Kill Move Paradise,” an earlier Ijames play still running at the Odyssey Theatre, constructs an emergency racial justice ritual to confront the epidemic of fatal police shootings of unarmed Black people. “Good Bones,” a play about a married couple, Travis (Mamoudou Athie) and Aisha (Susan Kelechi Watson), who are renovating a townhouse in the city where Aisha grew up, is much more conventional in form.
Aisha, who grew up poor, has a love-hate relationship with her hometown. She works for a company that’s erecting a sports complex that is going to tear down the same projects that she used to call home. Her husband, a chef from a more affluent background, is opening an upscale soul food restaurant in the midtown area. The two embody the spirit of gentrification, but they have as many differences between them as they have with Earl (Khris Davis), a meticulous contractor who still lives in the projects that Aisha wants to dismantle.
Ijames sets up debate drama in which the characters bring their unique life histories to the conflict. Earl’s sister Carmen (Téa Guarino), a finance major at the University of Pennsylvania, introduces a different generational viewpoint when she joins her brother to finish the renovation job.
The production, directed by Ijames’ frequent collaborator Saheem Ali, unfolds in the spacious modern kitchen that Earl is painstakingly refurbishing to restore this historic townhouse to its former luster. The scenic design (Maruti Evans) and costumes (Oana Botez) maximize the production’s televisual appeal. Perhaps this is the reason that “Good Bones” sometimes comes off as a TV pilot. The play has urgent social concerns that are right at home at a theater like the Public, where it runs through Oct. 27, but pat resolutions and a little too much window-dressing prevent the conflicts from becoming uncomfortably real.
“Fat Ham,” “Kill Move Paradise” and “Good Bones” are written in such different styles they could be the works of three separate authors. Except that each play is urgently concerned with the lifeblood of community. For Ijames, that includes not only who is on stage but who is in the audience. Expanding the circle of theatergoers isn’t an afterthought but an imperative for a playwright who recognizes that drama, at its most flourishing, serves as a societal meeting point.
My New York theatergoing brought this dynamism home to me, confirming that a theory of physics holds true for drama. When spectators enter a fictional world, their very presence changes what they observe. Proof of this concept is everywhere in a busy New York fall season that is fostering deeper connections between playwrights and their attentive public.
Movie Reviews
Bandar Movie Review: Bobby Deol roars in Anurag Kashyap’s unsettling legal thriller that refuses to spoon-feed
Name: Bandar
Director: Anurag Kashyap
Cast: Bobby Deol, Sanya Malhotra, Sapna Pabbi, Saba Azad, Jitendra Joshi, Raj B Shetty
Writer: Sudip Sharma, Abhishek Banerjee
Rating: 3.5/5
Plot:
Bandar follows Sameer Mehra’s character, essayed by Bobby Deol, a fading star who is desperately clinging to his past glory. Just as he attempts to rebuild his life and finds solace in a new relationship, his world comes crashing down. A former girlfriend files a heinous allegation against him, dragging him into a vicious, high-profile legal battle. Written by Sudip Sharma and Abhishek Banerjee, the film moves away from standard Bollywood courtroom setups. Instead, it dives straight into the murky waters of social media trials, public perception, and a sluggish judicial system where the truth gets buried under layers of gray.
What works:
Known for his chaotic energy, Anurag Kashyap takes a remarkably mature and controlled approach here. He avoids sensationalizing a highly sensitive topic, choosing instead to focus on the psychological claustrophobia of the protagonist. The prison sequences are exceptionally well-shot. They create a suffocating, raw atmosphere that makes you feel the weight of the character’s confinement. The script successfully avoids preachy, black-and-white monologues. It bravely forces the audience to confront their own biases regarding modern-day public trials and the digital judge-and-jury culture.
What doesn’t:
Clocking in at nearly two hours and twenty minutes, Bandar feels heavily weighed down in the second half. The narrative stretches thin, and a few subplots demand too much patience, making you wish for a tighter edit. The film stubbornly refuses to take a definitive moral stance or offer a neat resolution. While film enthusiasts might appreciate the complexity, mainstream viewers looking for a clear-cut ending or emotional payoff might walk away feeling detached and frustrated.
Performances:
- Bobby Deol is the beating heart of this film. Stripping away the massive macho swagger and menacing villainy of his recent hits, he delivers a deeply vulnerable, understated performance. He plays Samar with a mix of arrogance, confusion, and raw helplessness, proving his immense range.
- Sanya Malhotra anchors her screen time with her trademark reliability, turning in a grounded and impactful performance.
- Saba Azad and Sapna Pabbi excel in their respective roles, bringing genuine nuance to characters that could have easily been sidelined.
- Jitendra Joshi is an absolute scene-stealer, commanding your attention every single time he steps into the frame.
- Indrajith Sukumaran and Raj B Shetty are absolute show stealers with their raw acting.
Final Verdict:
Bandar is an unsettling, morally complex thriller that refuses to spoon-feed its audience. It isn’t a comfortable watch, nor does it try to be. While the sluggish pacing in the second half prevents it from being an absolute masterpiece, it is worth a watch for Bobby Deol’s spectacular acting reinvention and Anurag Kashyap’s gritty, thought-provoking storytelling.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of Pinkvilla. No statement in this article is intended to defame, harm, or malign any individual or entity.
ALSO READ: Maa Behen Movie Review: Madhuri Dixit, Triptii Dimri, and Dharna Durga save a slow-burning mystery
Kathy Hilton will no longer be the grand marshal of West Hollywood’s pride parade.
The city and WeHo Pride on Wednesday released a joint statement, announcing that “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” star would no longer serve as the Grand Marshal Icon for the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade. The event is scheduled for Sunday.
“After thoughtful discussions, the City of West Hollywood, the WeHo Pride production team, and Kathy Hilton have determined that the 2026 WeHo Pride Parade will not designate a Grand Marshal Icon honoree,” read the statement.
The decision comes less than a week after Hilton was announced. That May 28 announcement was met with swift backlash from the LGBTQ+ community and allies, who called out Hilton’s ties to President Trump and alleged MAGA-leaning politics. Critics also cited accusations that the socialite had used a homophobic slur while on a trip with other cast members of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” an action she has previously denied.
In their joint statement, West Hollywood and the WeHo Pride team expressed their appreciation for “the respectful and sincere dialogue” around both the event and the “role and significance” of Pride honorees.
“The City of West Hollywood has always believed that Pride belongs to the community,” the joint statement said. “Since its earliest days, Pride has served as both a celebration and a platform for activism, visibility, resilience, and the ongoing pursuit of equality, dignity, and justice for LGBTQ+ people. … These conversations reflect the passion people have for WeHo Pride and underscore the importance of ensuring that WeHo Pride continues to honor the history, values, and diverse voices of the LGBTQ+ community.”
In a statement, Hilton expressed gratitude for being considered for grand marshal and reaffirmed her commitment to the LGBTQ+ community and causes.
“My reason for wanting to be involved in this year’s WeHo Pride weekend was simple: to celebrate, support, and share in the joy of a community that means a great deal to so many people,” Hilton said. “Pride is, and always will be, about celebrating and uplifting LGBTQ+ voices, experiences, and achievements. … My support for the community and WeHo Pride is unwavering.”
She also mentioned several queer advocacy organizations and events she has supported over the years, including GLAAD, the Elton John AIDS Foundation, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, Dr. Mathilde Krim, God’s Love We Deliver and Project Angel Food.
The latest Pride-related dust-up follows the abrupt cancellation of the Long Beach Pride Festival in May. The city’s Pride Parade took place as planned.
Both snafus have occurred as conservative politicians and advocates continue to attack LGBTQ+ rights and visibility nationwide. Some Republican governors have even pushed for conservative alternatives to Pride month festivities. A recent Gallup poll has found that after years of steady gains, support for marriage equality and same-sex relationships has slipped, particularly among Republicans.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Travolta’s “Propeller: One-Way Night Coach” is One for the Ages — All Ages
Back in the good ol’days — the ’90s — John Travolta would love to get off the topic of “Michael,” “Pulp Fiction” or “Get Shorty” in interviews with film journalists like me and regale us with how utterly besotted he had been with his first flying experience, how that drove his passion for piloting and buying planes and airfield-adjacent luxury houses.
He didn’t even seem to mind having to move house when this or that development balked at him flying his Boeing 707 out of there on the way to locations.
Travolta would tell any journalist who asked that he was writing a kid-friendly book, “Propeller: One Way Night Coach,” based on his first flights as a child in old propeller driven airliners — cheap red-eye overnight treks with too many connections for your average jet age traveller to tolerate.
I remember picking up the book when it came out later in the ’90s — at an airport gift shop — and thinking “Well, that’s as cute as I figured.”
And now, decades later and trapped in the B-movie hell of his post “Gotti” career, Travolta’s turned that cute book into the most delightful, fanciful and colorful bon bon of a movie.
“One Way Night Coach” is a child’s fantasy of flight and flying the way it used to be — with pristine, uncrowded, futuristic airports, an early ’60s era of jets and prop planes with over-uniformed stewardesses in white gloves, the days “Back before every Joe Sweatsock could wedge himself behind a lunch tray and jet off to Raleigh-Durham,” as Sideshow Bob memorably sneered on “The Simpsons’.”
It’s a fictionalized account of Travolta’s childhood about an only child (at least two Travolta siblings have bit parts in this movie) of a never-made-it/never-will actress/single-mom (Kelly Eviston-Quinnett) who indulges her aviation-obsessed eight-year-old with a cheap cross-country overnight flight.
Little Jeff (Clark Shotwell) will revel in almost every Idlewild to Pittsburgh to Dayton to Chicago to Kansas City to Denver and Los Angeles minute. He strolls into the cockpit to meet pilots, charms the stewardesses and checks out the sleeping bunks on the TWA Lockheed Super Constellation, loving even the delays if not the Chicken Cordon Bleu he’s offered on legs of the journey that offer a meal.
And as he’s an observant child, he comments (Travolta narrates) on his 50ish mother’s vamping and posing, her choice of cigarettes (Newports) and drinks, the solo traveling men whose attention she pursues and earns.
“I was her best audience,” adult Jeff remembers of the mother who’d read him plays as bedtime stories and delusionally hopes that this trip to Los Angeles might be her “big break” even though she’s pushing 50.
“Hollywood called,” she’d explain about their overnight cheap flight arrangements to ticket agents and crew. “They told me to take the next flight!”
At every turn, Jeff meets or sees kindness — stewardesses who indulge his many questions and bump them up to first class on the mostly-empty planes, a captain who fixes his toy model of a Constellation, a mentally ill flyer who flips out but is calmed by a flight attendant who isn’t overworked and frazzled in jet-powered tin-can jammed with Joe and Jane Sweatsocks who think nothing of traveling in their pajamas.
Normally, I cringe at pictures this reliant on voice-over narration. I recoil from stars who populate their picture with Sandler etc. offspring. But “Propeller” is unfailingly sweet and never cloying.
Sure, it’s fictionalized. But if you’ve followed Travolta’s life and career, a lot of him is in this — his raptoruous engagement with flying, an indulged child who developed a taste for fine food and creature comforts, a mother who was his guiding star as an actor.
I get why there are less adoring reviews than mine floating around “Propeller.” It’s unfailingly sweet. Mom’s man-hunting is seriously dated. This TWA tale is decorated with Gershwin’s majestic “Rhapsody in Blue” — United Airlines’ signature tune. And Travolta’s been around long enough for recent generations to come up and not feel a connection to the “Saturday Night Fever/Get Shorty” star whose career has fallen off and life has been visited by too much tragedy.
But I’d hate to be seated next to anybody who doesn’t appreciate this adorable, pristine and nearly perfect aviation fantasy on any flight, much less an overnight one.
Rating: TV-PG
Cast: Clark Shotwell, Kelly Eviston-Quinnett, Ellen Travolta, Ella Beau Travolta, Olga Hoffmann and John Travolta.
Credits: Scripted and directed by John Travolta, based on his book. An Apple TV+ release.
Running time: 1:01
-
Minneapolis, MN5 minutes agoFor Minneapolis reporters, Operation Metro Surge was a reckoning – Poynter
-
Indianapolis, IN12 minutes ago‘Thrill is gone’: Jason Whitlock says Caitlin Clark fever is over in Indianapolis
-
Pittsburg, PA14 minutes agoPittsburgh promises its largest firework show yet for America’s 250th
-
Augusta, GA20 minutes agoGaines endorses Kendrick in Augusta mayoral runoff
-
Washington, D.C27 minutes agoJuvenile injured after gunfire reported in DC’s Michigan Park neighborhood
-
Cleveland, OH30 minutes agoCleveland readies for pre-World Cup soccer match
-
Austin, TX35 minutes agoTexas lawmakers discuss rural hospitals
-
Alabama42 minutes agoAlabama has one of college football’s toughest schedule stretches in 2026
