The Craptacular Tumbles!

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10 Items at Broadway Flea 2015 That Were Unintentionally Amazing

Every year I go to Broadway Flea, I think think the same two things: That it's for an amazing cause, and that I should be selling my epic piles of apartment-cluttering, Broadway-related shit instea...

Buy the stuff. All the stuff.

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Wait. Is this really Zayn Malik's head (and tattoos) Photoshopped onto Adam Jacobs' body? Am I hallucinating?

-M

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Whatever man, King Lear is a bullshit play and seeing even good productions of it makes me think that maybe Shakespeare was a hack/want to tweet some incendiary shit about how Shakespeare is the worst, and I’ve been creepily referring

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One of the things that makes the whole damn night so fun is that there’s no air of pretension — no one seems over it, or incapable of appreciating how rare and wonderful and bizarre it is that we’re in these rooms, doing these things.

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  By now, we’d like to think the whole entire planet knows that in The Theater, the characters aren’t just on stage. They’re everywhere. Because… duh, that’s what makes theater so fucking fun. So endlessly entertaining, on and off the

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Last night some of theater’s most elite were given some of theater’s most elite fictional awards. As tradition dictates, these awards are voted on by a committee of two, and doled out in a lavish, imaginary ceremony hosted at The

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Sunday night Jeremy Shamos danced across the Kimmel Center stage before taking off into a sudden run and leaping  into Steven Pasquale’s strong arms (where, truth be told, he was caught and held quite tenderly). And Steven Boyer sang the

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Spoiler alert, love does not win in awards season… Sure we may not have loved everything about this multi-million dollar tuner but this is shocking. Rocky was not nominated for Best Musical. Or Best Score (okay, that one’s not shocking).

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Let’s give Woody Allen some things because Woody Allen doesn’t have enough things… Rightfully ignored in most of the major musical categories (Best Musical, directing, the lead acting categories), of course Bullets Over Broadway scores a bookwriting nomination for one

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Welp. Here we go. The nominations have been announced, the feteeing and campaigning and dress shopping is about to begin, and basically everyone in the Theater District just went on an even stricter diet or added a few extra push-ups

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Well. The nominations are out. So, it’s like… time for Tony Fever and stuff. We here at The Craptacular are getting into the spirit by asking today’s most burning question of some of theater’s finest. That’s right. We’re asking what

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The thing about The Bridges of Madison County, that swoony romantic dreamboat of a show, is that its action exists in this wonderful, only-in-theater universe where nothing makes sense, yet everything makes sense. Singing out your emotions? No problem. The famous bridge is a single beam of wood with a spotlight on it? Cool. Hunter Foster on a tractor? I’m imagining it right now and it makes perfect sense. A woman gets in a stranger’s truck? If the stranger looks like Steven Pasquale, sure.

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I dunno, guys. Sometimes you see a kind of wonky musical and you just love it anyway. A recent example of this? Violet – the story of a disfigured young woman on a pilgrimage for a cure, who meets two

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With two of Frank Loesser’s biggest hits returning in the form of simultaneous all-star concerts,  last week New York experienced a rare treat for Classic Broadway lovers and the ClaBro-curious alike. Wednesday – Sunday, Encores! gave us the quasi-operatic romance The

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In a the basement party-room below an Irish pub on the Upper West Side – our own little underworld, where no one is dead – there is a hubub, followed by silence. A voice rises over the mostly-young, mostly-actor crowd, warning us

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Ramin Karimloo, begs to differ with aaaaalllll that. Because he’s 35, highly tattooed, more jacked than that Equinox trainer you’re crushing on, and so intense and clear-eyed up on that stage that by the time you get to “Bring Him Home,” you’re all like… “Marius? Enjolras? Who’s Enjolras? I can’t even say that.”

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Ladies and gentlemen… Laura Benanti