Good for Letts. I haven't stopped thinking about it since Saturday. Clearly, neither has Brantley.
"The play, you see, memorably includes several gut-wrenching occasions when Barford’s Wheeler flips his appealingly grouchy persona to reveal a black hole of ugly, flailing, desperate narcissism. As it ends, he is making a passive-aggressive pitch to yet another woman, to whom he has acted as a sort of white knight. And even with us knowing what we know, he remains as charming as ever.
I asked the woman with whom I saw the play if she thought Wheeler would make a conquest of this last character. “Oh, absolutely,” she responded. She sounded angry."