Ah, Neil LaBute. My favorite former Mormon. These are three short plays, similar but distinct, all dealing closely with his usual banality-of-evil theme. As depicted here, evil appears in our lives not as a separate entity, easy to distinguish, but rather as something coded into our very nature. It can rise out of seemingly rational, everyday decisions. In all of these plays, Mormons do pretty unspeakable things. These represent more, uncomfortable-thought-provoking drama in that vein. I enjoyed them, though I felt a typical sort of cognitive-dissonance at work. There are some traces of sexism, and frank homophobia here and there. If LaBute had done more critical thinking, though, would he really have joined the LDS in the first place? He's less virulent than Orson Scott Card, and more tolerable than David Mamet, as playwright and person, but still. I can't help but hold LaBute's incredibly silly religion against him-- more importantly, I think it negatively affects his work. Charged, caustic, witty as they might be... the plays collected in this volume consistently feel not-quite-there, or almost-brilliant. Is this review over-hyphenated? Why, yes. C'est-la-guerre! Although, this was published in 1999, and LaBute later left the church, so maybe his stuff has since improved.
I didn't really buy his 'redux' of Medea, but this still made for a quick, compelling read. Who knew Calista Flockhart did so much stage work?