For my most recent EDGEchicago review assignment, I took my darling Patty with me to see Shattered Globe’s production of Sam Shepherd‘s Pulitzer-Prize winning play, Buried Child.
So we didn’t really get it.
But, I think on the long El ride home, we worked it out. Something to do with failed dreams and repressed anger and disillusionment and the deconstruction of the American family/dream. It’s all very deep and important, and I may have fallen asleep for a dozen seconds or so during the corn shucking scene. However, kudos to the very loud cast for keeping me awake.