TIME
Mr. Adam (adapted from Pat Frank’s novel by Jack Kirkland; produced by Mr. Kirkland) was the season’s final play and worst experience. It concerned the one man in the world who had not been left sterile by an atomic explosion. Plugging doggedly away, Adapter Kirkland (Tobacco Road) left no phrase unturned that might possibly call forth a snicker. But Mr. Adam was worse than vulgar; it was almost maddeningly boring. By week’s end it had followed the season to the grave.
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