The play's not the thing

 

Sun 9/22

I saw the worst theater I’ve ever seen last night, written by a woman who has been called “the greatest and least known dramatist of our time.” In “Mud” a woman irons and encourages her housemates to shape up. And in “Drowning” two severely ugly men sing about a photo of a woman in a newspaper. 

The Times review states … “Her characters live in weird corners of the imagination, where uninhabited desire and grim existential queries abound. It should feel like an honor to be a stranger in her strange lands.” They also published my comment … “I’ve gone to nyc theater for fifty years. These pieces were the worst things I’ve ever experienced and this review astounds me.”