It’s a shame that Crooked Cross isn’t better
It’s Christmas Eve in a small German town. In a cozy wood-paneled living room, a brother and sister named Helmy and Lexa are decorating the tree, half chatting and half squabbling, the way siblings do. As they light candles, Lexa’s fiancé, Moritz, pounds on the door, demanding jauntily to be let him. He’s as excited as a small child to see the festivities – and to kiss his bride to be. So opens the off-Broadway production of Crooked Cross. It's a joyous scene, full of promise. Quickly, though, things begin to go south. Moritz Weissman, a surgeon, is accomplished, smart, and well-liked. But while he was raised Catholic, his name, taken from his professor father, is Jewish.