Like all great plays, ABIGAIL leaves me with more questions than it answers. Can we separate art and artist? Where we do we draw lines? Do we really need to revive classic works that perpetuate models of humanity we're trying to eradicate? These are all the questions swirling in the modern zeitgeist, begging not just to be asked, but to be discussed, addressed, answered, resolved. The play proves what a monumental task that is by constructing a denunciation of a revered text and playwright and creating an all-too-believable denial of it, the perfect metaphor for the #metoo movement.
Like all great plays, ABIGAIL leaves me with more questions than it answers. Can we separate art and artist? Where we do we draw lines? Do we really need to revive classic works that perpetuate models of humanity we're trying to eradicate? These are all the questions swirling in the modern zeitgeist, begging not just to be asked, but to be discussed, addressed, answered, resolved. The play proves what a monumental task that is by constructing a denunciation of a revered text and playwright and creating an all-too-believable denial of it, the perfect metaphor for the #metoo movement.