(Laura Collins-Hughes’s article appeared in The New York Times, 6/20; via Pam Green.)

“Does anyone else need some earplugs?”

It’s not a question the audience usually gets at “The Iceman Cometh,” with its pickled human wreckage cowering inside Harry Hope’s dismal saloon. But this was Act I of “The Iceman Lab,” Target Margin Theater’s bold, playful, vivifying re-creation of the Eugene O’Neill classic at Here, and a friendly glam-rock band was filling the room with sound. Thus the earplug offer from the charismatic and endearing keyboard player, Chris Giarmo.

The chance of slipping into a stupor alongside Hugo, Willie and the other barflies during this batch of songs is absolutely zero. That’s not just because it’s loud but also because it’s fun, even if you aren’t one of the spectators who down shots of bourbon during the show. If you’ve never had a good time amid the alcoholic gloomfest that is “The Iceman Cometh” — especially before the salesman Hickey arrives and livens up the joint — well, neither had I.


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