(Michael Feingold's article appeared in The Village Voice, October 27.)

Cromer Darkens Simon's Memoirs; Marber Misdates Miss Julie; Ordinary Days are Just That 

Honesty, dignity, and Neil Simon. No, I know what you mean: I didn't expect to be writing those three terms in sequence any more than you expected to read them in this column. But you also already know the invisible fourth term that connects them: David Cromer. Among Broadway's money folk, Cromer has apparently become the new buzzword in directing. This is a pity: Artists shouldn't be reduced to buzzwords; the buzzing makes people lose sight of the many other fine directors around; and Cromer's future would probably be more exciting if he could generate his own projects instead of being blitzkrieged with commercial offers. But meantime, he has directed the revival of Neil Simon's Brighton Beach Memoirs (Nederlander Theatre), contiguous with his Off-Broadway productions of Our Town and the musical Adding Machine in that it gives an old work a new look that reaffirms its value.

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