Every so often, you’ll hear a critic — and by “a critic,” I mean me — lamenting over theater that, in its DNA, it’s actually much closer to being television . These are plays that take little or no advantage of their own liveness, the distinctive possibilities and the meaningful, imagination-sparking limitations of bringing a whole bunch of people together in a space for a heightened, fleeting period. We’ll probably never be entirely free of these sheep in wolves’ clothing, but something intriguing has been happening over the past several years: As TV changes, so does this type of theater. Its shape used to correspond to those of the traditional sitcoms or comfortable domestic dramas of network television — a house, a couch, a lot of basically relatable conversation with jokes and reveal

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