As Stephen Sondheim once lyricized: “Hey, old friends, how do we stay old friends? Who is to say, old friends, how an old friendship survives?” And the answer, as it has always been, is “who the hell knows?” And it is both the joy and heartbreak of once close friendships reuniting that Max Berry captures so poignantly; there’s a “lived-in” feeling that both stings and salves permeating the piece like a Whit Stillman comedy; its verisimilitude is both touching and grating – in the best way. And it's wonderful.
As Stephen Sondheim once lyricized: “Hey, old friends, how do we stay old friends? Who is to say, old friends, how an old friendship survives?” And the answer, as it has always been, is “who the hell knows?” And it is both the joy and heartbreak of once close friendships reuniting that Max Berry captures so poignantly; there’s a “lived-in” feeling that both stings and salves permeating the piece like a Whit Stillman comedy; its verisimilitude is both touching and grating – in the best way. And it's wonderful.