Although Grissom raises certain subjects that merit discussion, I'd say his relationship to the truth seems dubious. Among other things, he claimed on Twitter that his first essay was vetted by a major media outlet with an eye toward publication, but was killed because the outlet depended on theater advertising, and the editor couldn't risk it. As a working journalist, I highly doubt any part of that is true. For one thing, I can't think of a single publication -- even American Theatre magazine -- that draws that significant revenue from theater advertising. Secondly, it's almost unheard of for a piece of this length written on spec to be considered, but less vetted, for publication, unless the author is of a level of fame/recognition well beyond Grissom's. It also would have had to be put through rigorous editing and fact-checking, which is clearly not in evidence in the end result.
The only person Grissom quotes by name in any of this pieces, as far as I can tell, is Johanna Day, who is clearly a personal friend. He goes out of his way to disparage actresses who were approached to replace Day in various projects. And it's clear he has a personal ax to grind against the Roth family, and Jordan in particular. Again -- Jordan Roth is definitely not above criticism, far from it, but it's so obvious that Grissom's writing is fueled by personal animus.
I have to doubt the veracity of some of the sources, especially when they're presented so salaciously ("an Academy Award winning actress told me," "a prominent African American playwright said," etc).
"You travel alone because other people are only there to remind you how much that hook hurts that we all bit down on. Wait for that one day we can bite free and get back out there in space where we belong, sail back over water, over skies, into space, the hook finally out of our mouths and we wander back out there in space spawning to other planets never to return hurrah to earth and we'll look back and can't even see these lives here anymore. Only the taste of blood to remind us we ever existed. The earth is small. We're gone. We're dead. We're safe."
-John Guare, Landscape of the Body