“The Bronze Bitch Flies at Noon” and “Dog Tag”

I walked away with the impression that I usually have after one of Matt Everett’s scripts: that they’re extraordinarily well-written, quick, clever, funny and lyrical; and that that writing is at the service of a subject that just plain doesn’t hold that much interest for me.

Someone joked afterwards that both plays kind of feel like the setup to an insanely well-written porn: they revolve around establishing an incredible degree of romantic and sexual tension between two good-looking protagonists, then fade to black before the payoff. But I’d argue that that’s not unique to Matt’s scripts, that’s typical of the genre: romantic comedies generally revolve around catharsis and wish fulfillment. They’re pornos that are obsessed with the nuances of the mating ritual, rather than the act of copulation itself.

So it’s well-written, and pleasant enough to sit through. But if you’re not really into the idea of fucking one of these dudes, it really doesn’t have a whole lot to say.


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