This play is the magical, shadowy, twisted riddle I always hope for when reading. Mr. Yockey has mixed his ingredients with a careful palate; the Greek mythology, combined with the planetary metaphors, are impeccably balanced. We “get it” without being walloped over the head. The alien language erupting from the dog, and Maxine’s splendid fury, create an epic feel so much larger than its perimeter of a kitchen. In short, the strangeness of the world lends an extravagant scope to its heroine’s grief that pure realism could never have achieved.
This play is the magical, shadowy, twisted riddle I always hope for when reading. Mr. Yockey has mixed his ingredients with a careful palate; the Greek mythology, combined with the planetary metaphors, are impeccably balanced. We “get it” without being walloped over the head. The alien language erupting from the dog, and Maxine’s splendid fury, create an epic feel so much larger than its perimeter of a kitchen. In short, the strangeness of the world lends an extravagant scope to its heroine’s grief that pure realism could never have achieved.