November 2008

My husband’s home town in Michigan is so small that, to them, the word “theatre” is 1) spelled “theater” and 2) always preceded by the word “movie”. And if you want to get to that “movie theater” you’ll need a car — because the closest one is 13 miles away in the next town over. [...]

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You know you’re at a David Mamet play when, before the show even starts, you’re asked to turn off your fucking cell phones. While the play was first produced in the seventies, the subject matter is hardly dated; nothing gives away the time period (except for John Leguizamo’s crazy-patterned shirt — which could easily be [...]

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