Adam Flores as Pale? I thought director Rachel Tibbetts had miscast.

Kirkwood Theatre Guild caps their season with an unusual choice for a musical. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels does not set a boy-meets-girl plot to sweet love songs. Jeffrey Lane's book, adapted from the movie of the same name, follows a con man-meets-con man plot. David Yazbek sets lyrics and music to a perfectly hummable musical theatre score.

One-person plays are not my favorite kind of theatre. But after the hour and a half of No Child . . ., I could almost have sworn that I'd seen more than a dozen people on The Black Rep stage.

So you're directing a script by a young playwright who obviously has a feel for what works on stage, for how to build a scene, how to set things up for physical comedy.

St. Louis currently has a rare opportunity to see two productions of the best play set in St. Louis, Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie.

Scott Miller almost always settles into a high-octane groove with his productions at New Line Theatre. That's true of his current offering, Cry-Baby, the musical adapted from John Waters' film of the same name.

Briefs, it was called, because – well, because they were brief. Ten or 15 minutes. But there were seven of them, so together they made a full evening of theatre. But they only lasted one brief weekend.

In his plays, A.R. Gurney entertainingly chronicles the lives and social customs of the upper strata of the old families of the white Anglo-Saxon Protestants of the northeastern U.S.

Though often included in the Theatre of the Absurd, Jean Genet has long struck me as one of the first post-modern playwrights. In several of his plays, he uses theatre itself – the playing of a role – as a metaphor for the human condition: metatheatre, if you will.

Metro Theater Company productions almost always have an exciting theatricality about them, like the current Battledrum, which is playing at the Missouri History Museum in concert with their Civil War exhibition. Battledrum opens with Union soldiers hurling firebrands at a Confederate homestead in Kentucky in 1863. Director Carol North gives us quick images of men racing about, leaping over a split-rail fence placed cunningly by set designer Nicholas Kryah, while John Armstrong's lights and Rusty Wandall's sound give us flames and explosions. It happens fast – just long enough to pull us into the story, short enough that we don't have time to ponder that we're watching lights flash and hearing loud sounds, not someone's home and barns being destroyed.