Our Town? Yes.

See Our Town. Go online right now and get tickets.

Then, once you have the tickets and if you don’t live within driving distance of New York, buy your plane tickets.

I know. Our Town? Really? I must be kidding, right? That hoary chestnut?

The one.

The genius here, as directed by David Cromer, is a smartness and a sadness colluding into some sort of spiritual ecstasy. Again, not kidding.

At the very end of the play, one of the lines, and I paraphrase, is, “People live their lives without really seeing.” --I imagine David Cromer used this as the full metal spine for this particular back.

There is a sense in Act I of people living their lives, kindly, in a turn-of-the-last-century White Yankee New Hampshire Republicanism—while awaiting execution.

Act II, as you know, is all about the wedding. And it is not joyful. It is cause for hysterics. Oh that Mrs. Soames. (Order your tickets. Our Town)

Of course, Act III is the dead in the cemetery. But in this production, when Emily goes to visit her twelfth birthday---well, I can’t tell you! It was such a surprise. I just, I can’t say.

This was, certainly, a brave, fantastic production. And the actors, well, these New York stage actors are the best. It’s true. They are.

Get your tickets. Our Town keeps getting extended and I bet it will end up in some bigger venue (possibly ruined). See it downtown at the Barrow Street Theatre.

Tickets, Here:

Our Town