I laughed out loud at many parts of this play that effectively refutes Sartre: Hell isn't other people, it's ourselves. The cat is tormented by an action it took by instinct; the beaker knows full well what it's done. The bus, meanwhile, is a helpful moral guide. The physicality of the roles alone would make this a fantastic play to see live, but it's also a great story.
I laughed out loud at many parts of this play that effectively refutes Sartre: Hell isn't other people, it's ourselves. The cat is tormented by an action it took by instinct; the beaker knows full well what it's done. The bus, meanwhile, is a helpful moral guide. The physicality of the roles alone would make this a fantastic play to see live, but it's also a great story.