Olympia Dukakis is a fine actress even when she merely monologizes on a Florida park bench. In Martin Sherman's Rose, she is the eponymous octogenarian seemingly riveted to that bench as she recalls her jam-packed life (Ukrainian shtetl, Warsaw ghetto, marriage to a one-eyed painter, grizzly journey on the Exodus, rescue by an amorous American amateur sailor), only squirming a little now and then. I myself squirmed more, and left early.

Email
Print
Eight Year-End Films Vie for Oscar Contention
Sondheim and Lansbury on a Lifetime in Theater
The Black Keys Release Their Hip-hop Debut
How the BQE Became an Artistic Muse
On Great Jones Street, Shopping Is Art 
Classic Fare, Old-world Charm at Le Caprice
Buy a Brownstone for Less Than $1 Million
Fifty of the City's Tastiest Soups
Reasons to Love New York 2009
New York Politicians Refuse to Quit
A-Rod Has Babe Ruth in His Sights
McCain Yields to the Party's Pressure