Who is the bereavement leave for when we're trapped in a world of quotas and nothing else matters? While reading this play, time, while precisely indicated throughout, strangely enough becomes meaningless and you're caught up in the whirring blur of a frighteningly godless routine punctuated by precisely crafted moments of real humanity --both the hopeful and the despicable. One week. Glimmers of the threatening and chaotic world outside the room are echoed within its walls and yet moments of humanity's strength and propensity to awareness shine through. Stunning.
Who is the bereavement leave for when we're trapped in a world of quotas and nothing else matters? While reading this play, time, while precisely indicated throughout, strangely enough becomes meaningless and you're caught up in the whirring blur of a frighteningly godless routine punctuated by precisely crafted moments of real humanity --both the hopeful and the despicable. One week. Glimmers of the threatening and chaotic world outside the room are echoed within its walls and yet moments of humanity's strength and propensity to awareness shine through. Stunning.