ESPOUSITION

Many contemporary playwrights fill their plays with long speeches that are meant to sound all important and insightful and interesting. Monologues that luxuriate in the sound of the language and the clever notions they espouse.

Hate those plays.

What’s worse is when one of these verbose monologues...vomit in the back of throat now, ahem...when such a monologue is about the Theatre Life—like, an “actor” talking about “the theatre” to his/her “audience”—I have a tendency to seek out the nearest ball-peen hammer and start banging away on the inside of my left wrist.

So yeah…I saw “Talking With” last night at Furman.

Several outstanding performances, per usual. And costumes to die for. But. The play itself? Notsogood.

Why-do-it?

Adds variety to a season, I suppose. The show itself moves along at a nice clip. But...I mean…

...honestly...

...nothing ventured, nothing gained.