First Night Review: The Great Gatsby @ The Saenger Theatre
Review by Dorian Hatchett

“I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy." - Jordan Baker

The Great Gatsby invites the audience to partake of this jazz age spectacle, where New York’s rich and nouveau-riche have entered a competition with deadly stakes. The only winner in this game is truth, which succeeds heartily in shining a bright green light on the hollow reality of wealth and societal convention.

Based on the classic novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and featuring quotes directly from the book, this musical adaptation captures the wonder and debauchery of the post-World War 1 era in glittering lights and flawless scenery. 

Joshua Grosso as Nick Carraway is our guide, fumbling through a complex social hierarchy with as much grace as his midwestern roots can muster. His return to society after the great war is fraught; his shock at the decadence of Long Island isn’t naivety, but the realization that there are people living in an entirely different world than the war-torn one he has experienced. Grosso’s Nick is earnest and disappointed, but not totally surprised at the lengths to which his associates will go to maintain their place in the world.

Fans of the novel will be blown away by the scenery. Framing the whirlwind rekindled love affair of Jay Gatsby (Jake David Smith) and Daisy Buchanan (Senzel Ahmady) is an exquisite, technically marvelous set. Moving, shifting backdrops provide a seamless sense of time and place, with constant respectful callbacks to the source material.

There is perfect choreography: the ensemble cast are skilled dancers and narcissistic booze hounds. Part comic relief and part somber gut-check at the ephemeral nature of the joys of excess, they are a Greek chorus of honesty and naked ambition.

Likewise, the costumes (which won a Tony Award in 2024 for costume design) are a storytelling arc all their own. There is a sense of the infinite in the reflection of stage lights on pave rhinestones. Daisy and Jordan (Leanne Robinson) are two sides of the same coin; women trapped in a patriarchal mire where every choice comes with consequences. Their costume changes set a tone for each scene, adding in a layer of visual symbolism that Fitzgerald himself would have been proud of.  

See a world where everything is beautiful, and where, “Anything can happen, now that we’ve slid over this bridge.”

- The Great Gatsby: A New Musical plays at the Saenger Theatre March 24-29.  Click here for more information and ticketing
- More New Orleans theater reviews
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Join Crescent City Stage on Thursday, April 2 for Bard at the Batture: Spring Awakening — our reimagined take on Shakespeare in the Park, set along the Mississippi River. As the sun sets, enjoy a curated evening of Shakespeare's most beloved monologues and scenes celebrating love, wit, and renewal. You might hear a sonnet, a bit of Romeo & Juliet, or other familiar favorites — all performed in a family-friendly outdoor setting. Seating options include communal picnic tables and individual Adirondack chairs, with open seating and a guaranteed spot based on your ticket selection.
• Children under 4: Free (lap seating only)
• Youth ages 4–16: $20/$25
• Ages 16 and up: $35/$40
For more information and ticketing, click here

First Night Review: Small Craft Warnings by Tennessee Williams @ The Lower Depths Theatre, Loyola University
Review by Dorian Hatchett

Two men are at the end of a bar. One is the bartender, forever standing, busy hands polishing glasses and wiping the same place on the bar top for the thousandth time. His name is Monk, and he’s the proprietor of this juke joint. Monk is the definition of alone. Living above the bar, his entire world exists inside of this building, and while he is surrounded by people he knows better than they know themselves, he keeps no true confidence with any of them. 

Monk (played by James Howard Wright) is the repository of dreams and sorrows and joys, and he bears the weight of it all on a pair of stooped shoulders. Atlas himself could not have borne the weight of this sacred knowledge the way Wright hefts and wields the power of this fiefdom. He stands between the patrons and potions unbowed; the last step between thirst and inebriation. There’s a steadfast solemnity to Wright’s performance that speaks to that alone-ness, the voice of a man used to speaking aloud in an empty room.

Robert Alan Mitchell plays Doc, the other man at the bar. His words are casually seedy in a way that makes us unsure at first if he’s a harmless cad or something deeply unsettling. This is a bar where cheer feels ominous. Smiles feel pasted on. Dirty jokes are the height of hollow mirth.  

The two men discuss a woman sitting alone on the other side of the room as though she’s not there at all. She’s drunk and crying and while most of us can feel a kinship with that moment, we will only admit to the humor of the uncontrolled messiness, not the secret shame of it. That’s Violet (Kelly Holcomb) who is a woman without a place in the universe. She’s a stumbling tragedy, perhaps beautiful but most certainly broken. The men at the bar don’t even register to her, because in a way they’re right. She’s not really there. She’s not anywhere, and she can’t seem to stop feeling the pain of everywhere. 

This is Small Craft Warnings by Tennessee Williams, and there’s no place in the world more appropriate than New Orleans to play a show written to howl at the sad banality of human fragility. No place better than a city with a thousand dive bars. The Tennessee Williams Theatre Company roars into its second decade of  productions with this flawless rendition of a show meant to hone the sharp edges of the jagged pieces we all carry inside of our secret selves. 

The set designer, Nathan Arthur, has expertly crafted a set that manages to look exactly like every place we’ve all ever gotten absolutely hammered for less than $20. The Lower Depths theatre is a challenging space, and he transports us to another universe with his craft. The audience is even invited to sidle up to Monk’s Bar and buy concessions during intermission.  

The story is told in monologues and confrontations. Kevin Wheatley plays Bill, a man as crass and mean as the world that refuses to accept his unwillingness to work a “single day of his life” even if that means a life on the fringes of polite society.  His most recent benefactor, the nomadic beautician Leona, is LaKesha Glover. They are mutually driven by a desire to not be alone, but for very different reasons. Glover’s Leona is sincere and unbridled.  She’s the kind of woman that has no time or inclination for self-censorship. She feels entitled to take up space in a way that makes uptight patrons uncomfortable.  

Come and drink with this motley crew. Drink with Steve (Benjamin Dougherty), the perpetually sauced fry cook who accepted his lack of inertia and let it eat him alive. Dougherty has a knack for physical comedy that adds a sardonic twist to the tiny tragedies of everyday life. Drink with Quentin, who is too young to be there. Drink with Bobby, who only likes people who hate him, and drink with Tony the inspector, and all of their demons.

There’s a storm blowing in off of the Pacific, and if you’re going to be trapped somewhere in the downpour, it should be in Monk’s Place.  

- Small Craft Warnings plays through March 29th at the Lower Decks Theatre at Loyola University, click here for show information and box office  
​- More theater - New Orleans ON Stage for March

​Guys and Dolls @ Le Petit Théâtre
Review by Todd Perley

Guys and Dolls has been a nearly-ubiquitous presence of musical comedy on Broadway, in the West End, and all over America, for over 75 years. A list of its revivals would exceed my allotted word count. It won alllll the Tonys at its premier in 1950, and is a cornerstone of Broadway history. 

Yet somehow, this reviewer had never seen it! I was, though, thrilled to find that I’ve
accidentally featured most of the songs in my Mad-Men-era all-vinyl lounge DJ set called 'Cool Cats' at various venues around New Orleans for years. Frank Loesser’s music is sublime. Whether you go into the play blind, as I did, or you know the story and music backwards is irrelevant. You will most certainly have a helluva time at this classic show.

The book and music are adapted from several short stories by Damon Runyon, the Prohibition-
era journalist and author who specialized in the New York underground, bringing light and levity to gamblers, hustlers, gangsters, loose women, and the like. The play keeps these vibes as it
introduces us to the ne’er-do-wells of the Manhattan gambling scene, somehow making the underground family-friendly (without pandering).

This production at Le Petit (which plays throughout March) must be as good as the original Broadway cast. The several extended instrumental numbers of dynamic choreography
wordlessly bring us into the time and place, and introduce us to the characters in a unique and
exciting way. Donald Jones Jr. as Sky Masterson brings wicked charisma as he bets on everything. Stephanie Abry, playing the evangelist do-gooder Sarah Brown is a perfect offset to Sky’s sleazy scheming, and her cherubic voice mirrors Sarah’s angelic character.

Michael Paternostro plays Nathan Detroit - the ringleader of the gamblers and the craps game - with duplicitous charm, as he strings his fiancée along for some fourteen years. Leslie Claverie as the forever-jilted fiancée Adelaide wows the stage, recalling Bernadette Peters in her prime.

The rest of the cast and chorus are numerous and flashy enough to keep even the most ADHD-addled viewer focused, engrossed, and entertained. The action never flags, thanks to choreographer and co-director Jauné Buisson, and, like a hula dance, every move has a
meaning. Unlike a hula, I managed to understand the meaning. (I admit I can be a bit movement-illiterate at times...but not at this show.)

The orchestra (cleverly hidden under the stage, poor dears) is A+, bringing melodic comedy to
a litany of classic songs. I highly recommend you take this trip into the Valley of the Guys and Dolls. It’s a bet you can’t lose.

Guys and Dolls plays at Le Petit Théâtre through March 29th. Click here for show times and box office. 

​Stanley and his Demon @ The New Marigny Theatre
Review by Todd Perley

Stanley, as the first-and-a-half-coming of Christ, is grifting his congregants, suggesting a tithing of
eighty per cent of their income, which they are more than happy to pay, such is the spiritual succor they receive from The Church of Stanley.

When a man brings his possessed wife into the church asking for an exorcism, Stanley and his wife Esme see the opportunity for diversification, and expand their outfit to demonic dispatching at five G’s a pop, a most lucrative side-hustle indeed.

The demon Tansanazel (“but call me Chad”) attaches itself to Stanley, promising to possess and
relinquish any number of people he desires ... for a price. As any self-respecting evangelical holy man would, he takes the deal with the devil, with dollar signs in his eyes. Business is booming, but what does the demon want in return? Reform of the Church of Stanley. Less 700 Club, more community outreach, feeding of the needy, and general altruism. Y’know, Christ-y stuff. Stanley and Esme begin to rue the day!

Mariana Santiago’s new play is a darkly comedic twist cut from Faustian cloth. Peat Wolf’s
Stanley is repulsively charismatic as the cult leader, and Mia Frost as Esme, the real brains of the
operation, is even more deliciously despicable. His followers are hilariously clueless sheeple who don’t think it’s strange at all that they’ve been possessed by a demon several times each in the last few months.

Liz Johnston-Dupre as the initial possessed woman, crawls around the floor like a writhing, twerking Linda Blair. A scene of exposition has never been so fun to watch. Thugsy DaClown, playing God most divinely, pays a visit to Stanley, offering him a get-out-of-hell-free card, and we have to wonder who’s the real demon in this play?

I’m always down for a good old-fashioned skewering of organized religion that illuminates the
inherent hypocrisies, and Santiago’s play effectively spins everything on its head with nihilistic
merriment. A most catty approach to dogma. Meow!

Stanley and His Demon plays at the new Marigny Theatre through January 12th. Click here for more information and ticketing

The NOLA Project theatre company’s free play reading series returns to The Broadside on
Wednesday, December 3 at 7pm. The itinerant ensemble will read A RATED-R CHRISTMAS CAROL, an irreverent spin on the Charles Dickens classic, by former Artistic Director A.J. Allegra. In this comedic retelling, Ebenezer Scrooge learns the true meaning of charity.

The script has been read twice for past NOLA Project fundraisers, in 2016 and 2018, respectively and recorded for posterity in 2020 as part of the company’s PodPlays productions. The 2025 reading will feature NOLA Project ensemble members Khiry Armstead, Natalie Boyd, Keith Claverie, Leslie Claverie, Wayland Cooper, Torey Hayward, Alex Pomes, Matthew Thompson, Anna Toujas, Alex Martinez Wallace, Megan Whittle and Kristin Witt. For more information on Rough Draughts, visit NOLAProject.com.

Crescent City Stage with the generous support of The Josephine presents a Benefit Staged Reading of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, in a new adaptation by Patrick Barlow. Enjoy an evening of storytelling, cash bar and small bites, all in support of Crescent City Stage’s 2026 programming.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11
6:00 – 10:30 PM

EVENING LINEUP
6:00–7:30 PM — Cash Bar & Small Bites 
7:30 PM -- Staged Reading
9:30 PM — Post-reading Celebration with the Cast

The Josephine
2400 Napoleon Avenue, NOLA

BUY TICKETS

​Review: The Squirrels
The Lupin Theatre, Tulane

What happens when instability threatens an otherwise idyllic existence? Robert Askins’ (writer of the Tony-nominated Hand to God) dark comedy creates a squirrel world - yes, called “the squirld” - that asks just this question. The Squirrels (playing through Nov 20th at Tulane’s Lupin Theater) addresses wealth, race and power inequality. 

We’re introduced to the ‘squirld’ by a fourth wall-breaking scientist (Trina Beck), who provides a primer on squirrel behaviour and noises. Nuts - collected and stored by variety - essentially become capital, and the different species (gray and red/”fox” squirrels) are ethnic and/or class divides. 

Sciurus (John Jabaley), is an aging grey squirrel patriarch, living comfortably with his wife Mammalia (Dale Shuger). They have enough nuts to last ten winters, which in squirrel terms means they’re set for life. One daughter, Rodentia (Ella Hughes), is an adopted red squirrel they found half-frozen. The other daughter, Chordata (Audrey Gotham), is secretly seeing another red squirrel, young Carolinensis (Sacha Codron). 

Carolinensis needs food, but he’s from a different part of the woods, and Sciurus is suspicious about sharing his nut stash, even before he knows about the forbidden romance. Tensions arise, and are stoked by Sciuridae (also Trina Beck), an agenda-driven, affluent grey squirrel who appears with the sole intention of provoking division. 

What was likely subtext at 2018’s world premier is now overt social commentary. Mistrust, disinformation and bigotry evoke a paranoid world as resources become ever more scarce, and roiling animosity evolves into violence. Conspiracy foments conflict, a civil war with scant benefits and heavy societal tolls. 

Theatrical immersion is a tall order, but director Ryder Thornton - backed by the wonderfully evocative, multi-level woodland set - presents a believable, lived-in world. Tails and ears added to otherwise human clothing keep the production from straying into pantomime, and the drama hits without distractions. 

The cast and ensemble do a remarkable job with consistent physicality, relaying a dextrous energy that combines skittishness and nimbleness in a way that isn’t cartoonish. You immediately buy into the ‘squirld’ and its logic, along with the nuzzling and distressed squeaks and affectionate "muk, muk, muks" that pepper squirrel speech. Keeping the characters engaging without descending into ‘Cats’-style parody is a high bar, cleared by everyone on stage here. 

The individual characterizations are impressive, too, and every actor manages to instill their creature with personality, free of patronizing broad strokes. The family dynamic is immediately recognizable, from the love and bickering of the parents to the bratty kids. Actors appear from hidden nooks, and move with rodent-like jumpiness - hats off to both R’Myni Watson and Kelly Bond as intimacy director and movement and vocalization director respectively. 

There’s humor to be had with transposing human behaviour onto squirrels, having them drink maple syrup like booze or celebrate with pine cones and the like. A good recurring joke is Sciurus’ repeated bravado claims to have fought off dangerous hawks, though his wife lets slip it was really just blue jays. 

These affectations anchor the audience in the drey (the squirrels’ nest) and woodland, well enough for the underlying aggression and brutality to be genuinely moving. The Squirrels reflects our own animalistic tendencies, aspects of ourselves that become more apparent every day. (PO)

The Squirrels plays at the Lupin Theatre at Tulane through Nov 20th. Click here for more information and ticketing