No Intermission


Had a marathon week, as I needed to see eight plays in as many days in order to feel relatively guiltless about a weekend away. I noted a disturbing trend. No intermissions! Now this was absolutely welcome for the 65-minute Women of Trachis adaptation (a total delight, by the way, thugh it did only increase my sweetheart’s obsession with Heidi Schreck). But for plays like Frank’s Home and A Spanish Play that clocked in at nearly two hours, the measure seems punitive. The bathrooms at Classic Stage, where the latter is paying, seem punitive, too. Me, I like to stretch my legs, maybe have some coffee, or, if I’m not working and the play doesn’t delight, perhaps sneak away. I also love that moment when I resettle and the lights dim and the play strats up again and the outside word disappears.

Why this terrible move away from the intermission?

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