
The Receptionist opens with a soggy biscuit of a monologue and ends with an inexplicable hiccup, but in between it is as crisp as a Necco Wafer and as chilling as death. Forget what you may have heard about this play: it is not Dilbert. It is not The Office. It is not even a comedy. It is a seventy-five minute meditation on the banality of evil, with plenty of banality, and even more evil. [Read more...]
















