I remember the original production being a whole lot of nothing. Charles Isherwood was the second-string critic at the Times during that era, and he was a champion of Adam Bock's writing, so of course it got a love letter. A friend of mine who worked for MTC at the time said she'd never seen so many walk-outs and angry calls from subscribers asking what the hell they'd just seen. My memory is that it was only 70 minutes.
The revival has a solid cast and director, but I'm in no hurry to revisit.
"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
