I never know which puzzles me more about Theresa Rebeck—her willingness to churn out plays of such empty factitiousness or our nonprofit theaters' willingness to produce them. The latter, I imagine, may be explained somehow by enhancement money from Hollywood connections, spawned by Rebeck's extensive career as a TV writer; for the former I have no explanation whatsoever. I suppose Rebeck means something by her plays, but seeing and reviewing at least half a dozen of them has never given me a clue as to what that might be. Her principal characters tend to lead high-fashion, fast-lane lives, which are exploited for their glamour and simultaneously indicted for their meaningless empty materialism. Though represented as intelligent, hard-edged people with substantial professional careers, these folks can display a stupendous naïveté about the things you would expect them to be most accustomed to, for Rebeck's dramatic action leans on twists that you often see coming way, way ahead of the stage time she takes to convey them. The interim tends to be filled up with jargon-laden beautiful-people chitchat, some of which is funny but a little of which goes an... More >>>