Tony Marinelli — Theater Critic

Goodheart’s direction is the indispensable fifth performance. Having directed McIntosh’s previous three premieres, she understands how to let the playwright’s tonal volatility become an asset rather than a liability. The production can move from a joke about the provenance of a revolting stain to erotic discovery, from buddy-comedy banter to genuine horror, without treating any of those registers as a betrayal of the others. Goodheart allows the 100-minute play room to breathe, even permitting transitions to linger for the sheer pleasure of remaining with these women.

To call this production engrossing would be accurate but insufficient. It is, more precisely, a work that recalibrates one’s sense of duration, leaving the audience suspended in its wake, attuned to the subtle rhythms of existence. In an era that so often mistakes speed for vitality, Zimet and his collaborators offer a counterproposal: that to truly experience time, one must be willing to let it tremble, to let it break, and, occasionally, to let it begin again.

To call this production engrossing would be accurate but insufficient. It is, more precisely, a work that recalibrates one’s sense of duration, leaving the audience suspended in its wake, attuned to the subtle rhythms of existence. In an era that so often mistakes speed for vitality, Zimet and his collaborators offer a counterproposal: that to truly experience time, one must be willing to let it tremble, to let it break, and, occasionally, to let it begin again.