Saturday night I went downtown to see a play at the Profiles Theater, The Glory of Living. I had read a review in the Tribune a month ago, and it was quite the literary erection. (As Eric and Matt will remember, that is a phrase I coined, when I was on OTC drugs & hydrogen peroxide, and alcohol.) Quite.
The play was really good. I can count on one hand the number of professional plays I've seen, so it was a change of pace for me. Cool space, not large but tiny, and great story. It would make a great film.
The play is about this manipulating Southern man, Clint. He romances and marries an impressionable fifteen year-old girl and convinces her that the only way he can be satisfied anymore sexually is for him to bring back wayward girls, fuck them, and then have his wife murder them. It sounds tabloid, but it's not, partly because you know in your head somewhere that this is plausible in some sectors of this country and this society.
The actors who played the two main parts, Clint and Lisa, were great. It's still playing for a few more weeks, so if you have $22 sitting around, you should check it out.
2 comments:
I'm glad to hear that your autobiographical play turned out so well!
Just kidding, that play sounds pretty awesome.
That play's definitely going to give Brokeback Mountain a run for it's money. I'm going to write a film where I deficate on strangers and have absolutely no sexual self-control. It's not gross, it's art.
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