Aurora Theatre Company’s Exit Strategy


“The real breakout performance here is Niemann’s as that far-fetched goofball. […]

Niemann can talk about a Subway foot-long sandwich as if it’s an IV drip and he’s a human vegetable sucking at it for a last chance at life. He can stumble over the “S” in the word “sexuality” as if it’s quicksand he almost got trapped in. Niemann must perform paroxysm after paroxysm, and he mines orchestral range from the action as if it’s an instrument; no two fits are alike. […]

It’s electric, the kind of acting that sets words on fire.”

“The characters are palpably larger than life in Costello’s lively staging, but in a way that’s easy to get on board with due to a tremendously adept cast.

Although the play is really about the teachers grappling with the end of the place they’ve poured their hearts into for years, the floundering and relatively new vice principal keeps inserting himself into the center of the story.

Played with compellingly comic manic energy by Adam Niemann, vice principal Ricky is anxious and awkward, weak-willed and desperate to please in a way that’s terribly off-putting to everybody around him.”

‘As the ever-equivocating Ricky, Adam Niemann is a man possessed. He inhabits Ricky’s emotions from the base of his spine to the impassioned spittle that flies out of his enraged mouth. His intense performance didn’t throw the rest of the cast off balance, until he delivered one of his final, earth-shattering tantrums. In response to it, Jackson’s eyes opened wide with surprise. At that point, Niemann wasn’t just acting. He was channeling this man’s spirit off the page and onto the stage.”

New Conservatory Theatre Company’s The Gentleman Caller


”Adam Niemann is outstanding in his capturing the difficulty of facing one’s sexual orientation in a world that would be eager to crucify you in headlines and ruin you forever once the word got out. He is even better in showing us a playwright-in-the-making who hesitantly comes to the altar of his newfound god, Tennessee, hoping for his blessing but expecting his rejection. But he is at his best in Act Two when Philip Dawkins awards him a monologue about a life-shaping incident as a boy that Adam Niemann delivers in a gripping, near-monotone fashion, yet one full of deeply hidden emotion that leaves the audience (and even Tennessee) barely breathing during its telling.”

“Adam Niemann makes his NCTC debut as Inge, and creates a character so conflicted and confused that I felt anxious watching him. Full of facial ticks and looking to the sky to avoid intimacy and contact, Niemann is a heartbreaking creature dying for comfort. He both loathes and idolizes Williams and beautifully captures the ugly effects of the repressed gay man.”