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November 15, 2012
You won’t find “Sopranos”-style macho posturing in Frank Ingrasciotta’s one-man show, “Blood Type: Ragu” (nothing gangster related, really), now at the Actors’ Playhouse. But as someone once said of “The Godfather,” you can certainly smell the spaghetti. A mostly humorous autobiographical narrative peppered with portraits of colorful Sicilian relatives and Brooklyn personalities, “Blood Type: Ragu” is, among other things, an effective depiction of the breakdown of the marriage between Mr. Ingrasciotta’s working-class immigrant parents. But it has a larger mission, one maybe not surprising, yet pleasing and for some perhaps enlightening.