How can you tell if a play is working? The other night at August: Osage County I took my cue from the elderly gentleman sitting in front of me. Halfway through this ferocious dissection of familial dysfunction someone attempts matricide, an act our friend found so satisfying he all but leapt to his feet—with approval.
The rest of us could certainly identify, though we managed to stay in our seats. Make no mistake: a little drop of every family’s DNA resides on the stage of the Imperial Theater these days–the love, the resentments and jealousies, the rage and the cups of pain that bond us to our blood despite those occasional pangs of resistance.
Tracy Letts has written something honest and visceral. Though it nods to O’Neill’s great Greek-like tragedies, look deeper and you’ll see a touch of Inge, a dust of Williams. Not to mention Kaufman and Hart: that sound you hear is laughter, at some of the best comedic moments ever to unfold on a Broadway stage. Hilarity and rue, put over by a cast so brilliant you want to set them up in their own theater, hand them the entire canon of civilization’s dramas and say, “Have at it.” For the sake of your soul, go.
Sidenote: Dennis Letts (the playwright’s father) who played the family patriarch died this week. R.I.P.