MILD SPOILERS, PLAYWRITING CRAFT NOT PLOT:
The critics got this very right. Everything can feel oversold, but Bess Wohl's play is that rarity: a script and production that somehow still offer more than what's anticipated. In outline, the play sounds schematic, a 70s consciousness raising group's evolution seems a predictable construct, with erupting internecine warfare and dollops of revelation and heartbreak. Yet from the outset, the piece refuses to fit squarely in any genre, to milk familiar tropes; at times - using meta self-awareness with genuine innovation - Wohl takes Wilder's conceit in The Skin of Our Teeth - these actors are all aware they're players - and pushes it forward in bold new ways. Wohl isn't exploiting a narrator merely for storytelling shorthand; she's commenting on how theater itself frames, explicates, sometimes reductively simplifies sociopolitical themes, remarkably while presenting a straightforward account of a protagonist's personal investigation of her origin story. One character's second appearance creates one of the most original uses of a broken 4th wall I've ever encountered, and manages to illuminate an entire sub-theme. As the second act deepens everything introduced in the wildly entertaining first act, the play mixes up its actors' tasks to amplify its protagonist's family in profoundly moving ways. The house this afternoon - blessedly sans the distraction of telephones - left in tears, thanks to the play's ideas and the thrill of their execution. It's only a 14-week run, and to me, truly unmissable
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling