T HE HARVARD DRAMA CLUB'S production of Moliere's The Imaginary Invalid is an intermittently funny hodge-podge of styles and gimmicks.
T HE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE has made it onto the bestseller lists, and should stay there a while. The
P. G. Wodehouse has reached the ripe age of ninety, and according to the list Simon and Schuster give us.
Three men are responsible for the very considerable joys of the Phoenix Theatre production of School for Wives at the
S uddenly Last Summer, at the Loeb Ex, is a brilliant production of a strange and terrifying play. It is
O ur old friends illusion and reality are back in town, popping up in a couple of wildly different one-act
A Sort of Life is a wonderfully apt title for Graham Greene's autobiography. Its detached, tentative sadness typifies the way
TURNING Lolita into a musical was a bad idea from the start. Nabokov's novel dazzled us with its wit and
ENDGAME is Samuel Beckett at his best, conjuring his bleak, entropic universe out of the simple words and incessant pauses
THERE is probably no way of destroying A Christmas Carol. A lavish musical spectacular would seem to be the most
RELEVANCE should be administered in small doses, especially in historical novels. It's not that I mind relevance, it's just that
FOR SOMEONE who grew up a Catholic in Boston, Cushing was not a name, not even an institution, he was