Cloud Nine at the National Pastime

Tonight's play put good old Caryl Churchill on the map way back in the day. It was a lot of fun, long, and left me with the definite impression that something had happened. I'm not sure what. It's a very deliberate gender-bender and expectations up-ender, full of impressively glib depravity. Everyone's British, so there's a lot of that joke where awful, meaningful phrases are tossed of in the middle of empty politeness, and everyone reacts to them by staring straight ahead. I really like that joke. The staging (god bless unit sets) had depth, and there was all kinds of motion and tension going back and forth. Got a little sappy though. Right at the end.

It's nice to see the loft of National Pasttime's ceiling put to good use. The last time I saw that space it was in the hands of the clueless (See: my review of Hack/Slash).

But good job, Infamous Commonwealth. Way to overcome my terror at an 8-person audience with an engrossing show.