As the lights go up in Stephen Karam's potent new drama, The Humans, we see a balding, sixtyish-year-old man in a baggy beige sweater and loose-fitting jeans standing and holding two plastic grocery bags, sagging, as he stares forlornly into space. It may be the quintessential image of middle America today.
In March 2002, I watched what would become the most controversial play of the season, the short-lived The Smell of the Kill. I don't really remember what I thought of the show in any detail, but I remember one main thing. Sitting there, I thought: "Wow, Jessica Stone is going to get really great reviews." She was so good.