real

I saw a professional production of Tom Stoppard's The Real Thing over the weekend.

If you liked Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (Albee's wrenching, draining, epic: "I am the Earth Mother, and you're all flops."), then please, go see The Real Thing. It has a similar pace, similar feel...but less desperation in the end.

Here's the irony: professional theatre never feels as real to me as community theatre, just as professional baseball doesn't hold a candle to Little League. Here's the key question: are you there for love, or for money, oh performer/actor types?

I did not like Virginia Woolf, not even with a university company.

I did not like Real Thing either--but I might have liked it better if it had been more...real.