Oh, Wally, Wally!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It Is Time To Hang It Up Already!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                       Before getting into the train wreck of the theatrical experience above, let me just say a word about Timothee Chalamet.  Kid, you just blew your Oscar chances!  And go, Amy Madigan!

                                        Ok, Now--

                                        Had "What We Did Before Our Moth Days," now at the Greenwich House Theatre (probably because it was the only venue it could get) had been 90 minutes with no intermission, one might have emerged regarding it as thoughtful, effortful, philosophical and sincere.

                                           Instead, Shawn, with his Napoleon complex, and fondness for only his own words, has turned this into three hours which is just twice too long as it should be.  Imagine the graveyard scene of "Our Town."  Even with Wilder's poetry, stretched out to three hours, one would say, "Enough already!"

                                              The premise is simple.  Four actors sit on a stage, enacting characters who turn out to be connected to each other, musing on life, death, and everything in between.  I could not help noticing it was SO heterosexual.  Not that there is anything wrong with it, but a New York set play that does not acknowledge gay people??????????  And this from an author who, decades earlier, while I was still in my twenties, hit on me at a New Years Eve party????????????????

                                                  I could care less about that, but I do care about good theater, and Shawn is still writing the same pretentious crap as "My Dinner With Andre," which, for the life of me, I cannot to this day understand how some went crazy over it. .  There definitely were some 'Andre' groupies in the audience!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                  This production was purportedly directed by Andre Gregory.  His name may be on the program, but, in his 90's, one can bet an assistant did most of the work.  Not that there is much to direct, anyway.  The actors could do it themselves.

                                                  The actors--Hope Davis, John Early, Maria Dizzia and Josh Hamilton are capable of delivering their monologued lines, but I sensed in each an effort to be earnest; in other works, to "speak the play," as Shakespeare would say--and then get the hell out of there!  As the actors exited the stage for the final time, I sensed a bit of relief in all.  And I could not help noticing the audience did not give it a standing ovation.  No one stood for this play.  They all headed to the nearest exit.

                                                   My advice?  Stay away from this venue while the vehicle is there.

                                                   As for Wallace Shawn, you are still a troll!  Try writing something groundbreaking, instead.

                                                   That is, if you can