Everyone, please stop sending me that Ed Siegel review of Sleep No More. (It's here, if you really must.) I agree, I agree - it's as dumb as anything Louise Kennedy ever wrote. Maybe dumber. SO, unless I'm sexist or something, I have to give Siegel at least as much grief as I've always given Louise.
And you're right. Only the thing is, I don't really want to because the Siegel thing is actually more embarrassing than anything Kennedy ever wrote. I mean fer chrissakes - an actress "running her fingers through what's left of his hair"? He feels like "Tom Cruise searching for sensual pleasure"? "What if she took off her clothes???"
It's absolutely cringe-inducing, and more than a little sexist, but in some sort of unconscious, pants-down way that makes me want to avert my eyes. And frankly, the real problem is with the editing going on at the Globe, which could let this kind of thing get into print. For the last time, a personal response to a work - whether it be Ed's sex fantasies, or one of Louise's various griefs and grievances - is only interesting as a starting point for critical analysis. It is not a conclusion. "It made me cry" is not a review. "It made me horny" is also not a review. Globe editors, please, please take note.