Here’s a look back at 2014 including a very subjective subjunctive reductive list of outstanding shows, performances and developments guaranteed to make someone unhappy they were not on the list. Take comfort in that there was so much good work that this is the crème de la crème de menthe.
Posted in Features
Tagged A Chorus Line, Abby Perkins, Abigail Berkowitz, Actors’ Playhouse at the Miracle Mile, Alexander Zenoz, Angie Radosh, Antonio Amadeo, Arca Images, Arsht Center, Arts Garage, Assassins, Back of the Throat, Bad Jews, Blythe Gruda, Bruno Vida, Carrie, Centralia, Chaz Mena, Chess, Chris Crawford, Christina Groom, Church, Clark Gable Slept Here, Clay Cartland, Coconut Grove Playhouse, Dana Castellano, David Arisco, Edges, Elizabeth Dimon, Ellis Tillman, Eric Alsford, Ethan Henry, Faiza Cherie, GableStage, H2OMBRE, Hedda Gabler, Hurricane, Island City Stage, Jerry Gulledge, Jerry Waxman, John Archie, Julie Kleiner, Karen Stephens, Katherine Amadeo, Keith Garsson, Laura Ruchala, Lela Elam, Makeba Pace, Maltz Jupiter Theatre, Marcia Milgrom Dodge, Margaret Ledford, Mariand Torres, Mark Sanders, Michael McKeever, Mike Eidson, Miracle on South Division Street, Mothers And Sons, Murder Ballad, My Old Lady, Natalia Coego, New Theatre, Nicholas Richberg, Nicole Piro, Nilo Cruz, outre theatre company, Palm Beach Dramaworks, Parade, Patrice DeGraff Arenas, Patrick Fitzwater, Paul Reekie, Peter and the Starcatcher, Plaza Theatre, Primal Forces Productions, Ricky J. Martinez, Robert Johnston, Ron Hutchins, Serafín Falcón, Shane Tanner, Slow Burn Theatre Company, Summer Shorts, Sunset Baby, Terry M. Cain, The King and I, The Marvelous Wonderettes, The Mountaintop, The Trouble With Doug, The Wick Theatre, Thinking Cap Theatre, Tim Altmeyer, Tom Wahl, University of Miami, William Hayes, Zoetic Stage
The Plaza Theatre’s production of Dirty Blonde, a story of the blessings and curse of celebrity as seen in the life of Mae West, is similarly a conundrum of contradiction – the cast delivers appealing performances, but the play never captures the sex symbol’s blissful bawdiness and nova-like lifeforce that has invigorated other editions.