Ayn Rand in Love It appears “Communism has come to Hollywood,” laments a button-downed Ayn Rand in this delightful new musical by Gregory Dodds. Loosely based on the real-life Rand’s chance encounter with director Cecil B. DeMille before the height of her fame, this imagined scenario isn’t concerned so much with Rand’s politics as it is with her calculated love affair with actor Frank O’Connor (they subsequently maintained an open marriage for decades). Here she’s the curt, methodical, practical embodiment of the objectivist philosophy she famously championed–everything the easygoing Frank isn’t. Still, opposites have a tendency to attract, and even the most conservative folks enjoy “fonding” every once in a while, as Rand likes to say. It makes for some good comedy and even better musical numbers. The show is part of MCL’s musical series Premier Premieres. —Matt de la Peña
Mother and Me Halfway through Broadway veteran Melinda Buckley’s one-woman show chronicling her fraught, codependent relationship with her glamorous but erratic Hungarian-immigrant mother (think working-class Gabor sister), Buckley has the increasingly demented octogenarian involuntarily committed to a psych ward. As the debilitated diva disappears behind steel doors, she hisses at her daughter, “I never want to see you again.” It might be an emotionally devastating moment, but like most everything in these unrelentingly manicured 75 minutes, it reads as a sharp bit of crafty acting. Under Kimberly Senior’s direction, Buckley is so poised and precise (the Broadway training is always evident) there’s hardly room for spontaneity or vulnerability—even the tears seem to arrive on cue. The material is poignant; less acting and more candor might give it emotional depth. —Justin Hayford
Unelectable You You’d think this wretched presidential campaign would at least be good for comedians, but as NPR host Peter Sagal explained to Slate editor in chief Jacob Weisberg earlier this summer, the glut of low-hanging fruit together with the ugly, not-at-all funny stakes can be a rotten combination for parodists. A collaboration between Slate and Second City, this cathartic political revue vents frustration while managing to find joy in the 2016 election’s absurdities. That said, the sketches are frequently safe and public-domain generic rather than opinionated—more Capitol Steps than The Daily Show. Mischievous crowd work, though, is reliably hilarious. —Dan Jakes v
