American Hwangap The Korean tradition of celebrating hwangap, a 60th birthday, provides an opportunity to reflect on one’s legacy and appreciate the blessings of a life long-lived; it’s also a recipe for a postmidlife crisis. For Min Suk Chun, a Korean immigrant who abandoned his wife and three children to move back to South Korea from Texas, the milestone is decidedly the latter. With the permission of his estranged wife, Chun returns to the States for a reunion, albeit an icy one. Lloyd Suh’s heartfelt domestic drama is a touching, challenging work that makes an earnest case for giving second chances where second chances are absolutely not deserved. Helen Young’s Halcyon Theatre staging, a coproduction with A-Squared Theatre, doesn’t quite reach the emotional depths Suh’s text suggest, but it’s a thoughtful, uplifting 90 minutes. —Dan Jakes
The Infinite Wrench Greg Allen gave and Greg Allen took away. On December 31, 2016, the Neo-Futurists founder made good on his promise to kill off the company’s signature cult show, Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind, ending an unprecedented run of 28 years. The current generation of ensemble members weren’t happy. Now they’ve pretty much reconstituted TMLMTBGB in everything but name, running on the same schedule at the same venue with the same exuberance. Though their new baby is superficially different from the original (where before the plays were numbered, for instance, now they’re color coded), it retains the identical goal of offering 30 original short plays in 60 minutes. The performance I saw lapsed occasionally into reductive political posturing, having more to do with tribal affirmation than revelation. But it also had its share of wit, insight, emotional frankness, and dancerly physicality. —Tony Adler
Skin for Skin This Agency Theater Collective world premiere, directed by Michael Menendian and penned by clinical psychologist Paul Pasulka, follows the unraveling world of an Iraqi-American contractor suspected of aiding al-Qaeda. Meant as a modern-day incarnation of the biblical Job, Ayyub (Steve Silver) becomes a victim of fear, paranoia, and blatant racism at the hands of the U.S. military, exposed to disturbing “enhanced interrogation” methods that grow increasingly violent under the supervision of Sergeant Lindsey (Hannah Tarr) and Private Michaels (David Goodloe). As two flawed people following orders, Lindsey and Michaels illustrate the complicated, often disastrous consequences when personal and political grievances collide in a conflict zone. But too enmeshed in biblical quotes and a cliched backstory, Ayyub is a less than fully realized and sympathetic character. —Marissa Oberlander
