Theater Review: Sam Shepard's Heartless

  • Vulture
Theater Review: Sam Shepard's Heartless
The headless black-comedy Heartless is not Sam Shepard's best play. It is not his ninth-best play. You could call it a return to form, and its hell-for-leather riffing does resemble Shepard’s early work, his grand junk-collage Tooth of Crime jazz-odysseys. But you could also say, less charitably, that Heartless feels like a young man's play reworked, overworked, and worked-over by a now-much-older man. From its thudding title on down, the show feels like the pomo playwright’s version of a curmudgeonly “dad-joke”: I detected, beneath the Shepard-y obscurantism, a lot of metaphysical head-shaking and beard-stroking and general incomprehension when it comes to subjects like Women and Youth and the New Exhibitionism. What's up with all the Twattling and Facetubing, anyway?Actually, that’s giving Heartless way too much credit for currency: As we ramble through a weekend in the Hell-a Hills with Sally, a bitter youngish Angeleno
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