Recent revelations in the Catholic Church may have lessened the shock value of The Runner Stumbles, but there's still something to be said for exploring the inner turmoil of a man of faith rocked to his core by doubt and desire

Jenny Lyn Bader's None of the Above could easily slide in to a slot on the small screen. So what's it doing on stage in the first place?

No cartoon super hero( Wonder Woman), is Lynda Carter, making her New York cabaret debut at Feinstein's at Loew's Regency. But a flesh and blood singer who reveals a studied and engaging way with a song.

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Is Barbara dreaming or will she really exact revenge on her philandering husband? That's the interesting scenario acted out in Jim Knable's Spain. This may not be a play for the ages, but it's certainly different.

Even the most ordinary office can be the scene of ruthless brutality. At least that 's what Adam Bock seems to be implying in The Receptionist

Kevin Kline has chosen a subdued approach to his playing of Cyrano De Bergerac. The bigness is all in the nose, not in the fierce, forceful arc of his performance.

Everyone has a story to tell- and told well, we'll take the time to listen to it. Unfortunately, Steve Solomon's My Mother's Italian, My Father's Jewish and I'm in Therapy doesn't pass the test. We keep waiting for the jokes to lead to something bigger. But they're just jokes.

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Reality takes a beating in Sarah Treems A Feminine Ending. Her script is so self-congratulatory, it ought to be highlighted.

Point a finger at Jack Klugman and Paul Dooley for making this revival of Neil Simon's The Sunshine Boys a laugh riot. The old shtick still works.

Chazz Palminteri's A Bronx Tale is a heartfelt remembrance of a past life. So what if it verges on the sentimental, it's still the real thing.