Look Back in Anger (by John Osborne) hit England with a bang last year and it is clear enough why. On the one hand, it jabbed some good spiny cactus into the aspidistra drama of the English stage; on the other hand, it clangingly echoed a new generation's call to disorder in English life. And it had something more than the Zeitgeist or England's general theatrical anemia to recommend it; it had a man who could really write.
Look Back in Anger has hardly raised the curtain on the frowsiest-looking attic in years than...
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