True Playwright Confessions
Last month I saw The Pillowman at George Street Playhouse. I think I didn’t like it.
But my judgment may not be well-qualified, because every time they referenced one particular murder:
Katurian She’s buried out by the old wishing well.
Terence Trent D’Arby WISH ME LOVE A WISHING WELL! TO KISS AND TELL!
And this is a plot point! They say “wishing well” a lot!
Detective So what will we find when we go out to this wishi—
Terence Trent D’Arby HUH WISHING WELL! OF BUTTAHFLY TEEEARS!
Every time they did that, I missed another five minutes.
Maybe The Pillowman is more than a pleasant romp through child murder and police brutality. Maybe the play even makes a legitimate case for the power of storytelling. You know, like it promises to.
If does, I was too busy rockin’ out to The Artist Currently Known As Sananda Maitreya to notice.
Bonus: Extra points to anyone who gets “Sign Your Name” stuck in their head during performances of The Miracle Worker.