Greg Kerestan

It's a wonder Some Like It Hot, the Billy Wilder film, has held up as well as it does without seeming totally creaky and outdated. This is, after all, a 1959 Hollywood comedy, albeit one that is remarkably fluid in its attitudes towards both gender and sexuality.

Is Jesus the hero of Jesus Christ Superstar? It's a question people have debated for years, first spurred by lyricist Tim Rice quipping (possibly sarcastically) in the early seventies that Christ was the villain of the piece, not the hero. The brilliance of the piece is in its almost ambivalent reportage: we see one week in the titular messiah's life, with a just-the-facts approach that never editorializes per se.

The first thing I noticed in the theatre at City Theatre's Birthday Candles was the set. I'm a longtime lover of thrift shops, junk shops and the maximalist 'detail everywhere' aesthetic of the Disney Imagineers. My companion for the night and I spent the preshow prying the set apart with our eyes (does that E mean anything? is that a flute or a clarinet in the box up there? hey, what's that in the corner there that I can't quite make out?), unaware that nearly every item in that montage would soon have a deeper meaning.

One of the oddest dramedies in recent history is also one of the most satisfyingly heartfelt.

It's a very good play about a very bad play. That's the capsule version of what you'll see at Justin Emeka's production of Alice Childress's once-controversial Trouble in Mind. Though written in 1955, the mix of seriousness and satire in the piece feels shockingly contemporary, both in terms of its subject matter and in terms of its tone and structure.

Frank Wildhorn's Jekyll & Hyde has long been a divisive show among theatre fans. Is it a worthy follow-up to the other literary-based megamusicals of the eighties and nineties, like Les Miserables, Martin Guerre and Miss Saigon? Or is it a trashy, boneheaded knockoff of Sweeney Todd with more power ballads and sexy dancing girls?

Remember Jones is funny, but he isn't a joke. There's a knowing kitsch value to the cabaret artist turned rock revue revivalist's stage presence: he looks like Elton John, dresses like Liberace and sings like Joe Cocker, on a stage full of bandstands and matching-jacketed musicians. But this isn't a parody of a Vegas show. What Jones and company are doing is a lot more daring than parody: a genuine revival of that sort of big-band rock showmanship for the neo-soul era. And it works.

In some ways, Lolita Chakrabarti's Life of Pi, adapted from the novel by Yann Martel and directed by Max Webster, can feel like a grown-up version of the puppet-heavy visual multimedia spectacles often seen in high-end children's theatre.

It has long been posited that Sherlock Holmes is difficult to adapt well, because the nature of Arthur Conan Doyle's 'Sherlock Universe' is so fragmented. Most of his memorable characters apppear only once and rarely interact; even more vexing, Holmes's own behaviors vary from the misanthropic and cold to the joyful and gregarious. How, then, does one construct the ultimate Sherlock Holmes story?

CLO's seasonal favorites may not be new, but they have yet to wear out their welcome.

I keep saying it and it keeps being true: it doesn't really matter what Front Porch announces for their season, because 'Front Porch Presents' is a strong enough endorsement on its own. If you told me Front Porch was presenting a notorious snooze like In My Life or Lestat, I'd put my preconceived notions aside and go in expecting one of the best things I'd ever seen. Lucky for us, Front porch is NOT presenting any snoozes this season: they're presenting Maltby and Shire's Baby in the spring, and Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George in the summer. They're great choices, underrepresented shows in the Pittsburgh area without being totally alien like A My Name Is Still Alice, which was supposedly NEVER produced as a fully staged musical until this past season.

Like the King of Pop himself, this adventurous jukebox psychodrama blends darkness with joy.

Out of nowhere, the silent film classic The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari rocketed back into the zeitgeist about five years ago. It's name dropped, adapted, referenced everywhere from art films to children's cartoons.

Max Martin's songs have never made more sense than they do in this jukebox confection.

City Theatre's brand, the last decade or so, has often been less is more. Tiny casts, simple sets, show don't tell, but also don't show. The last two or three seasons have included an increased focus on immersive unit sets, but the principle still stood... not anymore, though.

Front Porch's biggest show yet is also one of its best.

Swerving between low comedy and high tragedy, this outdoor O'Neill drama stuns and swelters, even on cool nights.

The summer season ends with this kid-friendly spectacular.