Pocket Theater
Music Box Theater
'Motel'—the third act of America Hurrah by Jean-Claude van Itallie—is at last something new. Perhaps one should temper one's impatience for novelty in a form in which so many of the rudiments of ordinary competence are often lacking—and yet what a rare pleasure it is to see a work freshly conceived. But what we have missed even more than originality of conception has been the sense of our own time, our own country. Nearly everything worth commending has in the past few years come to us from England. Of course in the arts there is no need fortunately for nationalism or imperial competition, nevertheless a country and a people are ennobled by those arts that bring into form and coherence the chaos of daily life and living experience. 'Motel' is not exactly a drama; rather it is a sketch, or an image. It is brilliantly theatrical and most peculiarly American. The cast is just a voice, that of the Motel Keeper, who drones on and on without regard for the action. The characters are two hideous, speechless, life-size dolls: a mature, gross, rubbery couple, two figures from the mud of the present, fascinating constructions of anarchy and compulsion.
Review, 1774 words
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