Buried Child by Sam Shepard at the English Theatre, Luftbrücke Platz, Berlin, 1st May 2010
Buried Child by Sam Shepard at the English Theatre, Luftbrücke Platz, Berlin, 1st May 2010 There´s a fundemental distinction in all art, poetry, film, theatre between showing and telling. Perhaps ´Buried Child´ crosses the line, becoming too didactic as any work made in a time of economic depression tends to (John Steinbeck´s ´The Grapes of Wrath´, echoing in itself ´The Battle Hymn of the Republic´ which more or less goes ´the Lord will smite those our enemies down with much wailing and gnashing of teeth...´. There´s a deal of wailing and gnashing of teeth in ´Buried Child´ though.) An aged patriarch, Dodge, decays on the sofa pickling himself with a conveniently hid bottle of whisky. His sons are: the imbecile Tilden who gathers vegetables from the fields, Bailey who has been left crippled in an agricultural incident. So there´s paralysis, emasculation and a buried child. I mean why would anyone bury a child? Children are born in order to be loved by their parents. The clue to