This is a wonderful, weird, "run as fast as you can to keep up with it" play about what humans are made of and what we do with that information. It is claustrophobic and meaty, and presents us with a dinner party so absurd and awful as to be perfectly reflective of us as a species.

A delightfully absurdist piece about the ugly urges that exist in society. The playwright does a wonderful job making the world believable, yet true to its heightened permissions. It is definitely a piece that warrants quite a discussion after reading or watching.

I like to think of Celine Song as a better version of Wallace Shawn, always taking on the large issues of civilization and how we are - or aren't - human - or the nature of humanity itself - and this play proves my thesis once again. I love her work, the language choices she makes, the rhythms and the way she draws our eyes to notice what we would typically miss. She is one of the best reasons Plato has to kill all the poets! Long live Celine Song!