Theater: Flibbertigibberish

Where's Daddy? by William Inge, is another of those plays that everyone has read before it was written. It involves no drama, no personal vision, no character, no insight—just a leaf-through of the dog-eared topics of the day. The evening's menu of fashionable clichés includes: Generations—in conflict. The Young—Jacobins in blue jeans looking for any old Bastille to storm. The Negro—visible and vocal, and there must be two or the producer will be accused of "token" integration. Middle-aged Mothers—so square they are cubes. The Homosexual—not really a bad chap.

Amid eroding plaster and stacked-up cardboard cartons live two newlywedded bohemian idiots, young...

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