My earliest memory of experiencing theatre is not a pleasant one: it involves blindingly lit animals playing instruments very poorly, with mouths that appear possessed by demons.

A race for the vice-presidency of Capital Fringe.  Poetry. A totally historically accurate depiction of the duel between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton, replete with dance-fighting and karate tops. History. Multi-cultural reporting. Break dancing. Female reporters in referee costumes. Fact-checking. King of the Yetis. Stand up comedy. And a cliffhanger.

“If you’re looking to make a friend in D.C., get a dog.” This is one of the first words of “D.C. wisdom” imparted to me upon my move to the area following college, and a sentiment deliciously echoed in Duke Ryan’s Madam Ambassador. 

“Hamlet didn’t even text!!” exclaims Ophelia during the play. In Idly Bent Theatre Company’s Tragedy Averted, the overblown drama of teenage years takes on a whole new set of stakes. Rest assured, a missed SMS will be the least of Ophelia’s problems by the end of the show. 

Thais the Whore is a Catholic saint who began as a celebrated courtesan of 4th Century Egypt.  She was converted to Christianity by a zealous monk who locked her in a convent cell and essentially left her to die, all the while praying for her soul. 

In the Garden, Mother Eve readies a celebration of family and faith. She opens her doors to all: the downtrodden, the wicked, the faithful, the loved, and unloved. Equally. Not surprising—she’s made in the image of God, and the God of Eve’s Big Fat Family Reunion is benevolent. And Female (I think).

When The Atlantic published Anne-Marie Slaughter’s article “Why Women Still Can’t Have it All” in 2012, I had just finished a year of coursework for my doctorate and her perspective triggered a storm of conversations among my friends and colleagues.

Like me, you may enjoy watching young people have fun. There’s your one reason to see Hello, You Assholes!. You may also like for theatre to “make sense” or have a “point.” This is not a reason to see Hello, You Assholes.

Playwright Tarpley Long and director Tracy McMullan have taken on an extreme challenge in Dark House, their re-imagination of William Faulkner’s Southern Gothic novel “Absalom, Absalom!”.

It’s happened to us all: You enter a warm, dark room on a Sunday afternoon, take a seat, and before too long you’re being serenaded by a grown man lying in bed, singing songs about gay sex and romance while accompanied by a three-piece orchestra wearing pajamas.

Whether or not a relationship can make it is a persistent question in art as in life. But whether the relationship is good fodder for a play–or a text message conversation, for that matter–depends on a certain measure of uncertainty.