In the Summer House (by Jane Bowles) takes place on a dreamlike section of the Southern California coast, and contrasts the happy-animal life of a gaggle of Mexicans with the mental distress of half a dozen Americans in just about every stage of neurotic obsession. Widowed Judith Anderson, the undisputed queen of this domain, is superbly in command from the very start. Like a Freudian Madame Defarge, she knits in purposeful accompaniment to the sound of her own voice falling like a cleaver on her tremble-chinned daughter (Elizabeth Ross), who peeps in terror...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In