WRINGING GOLD FROM THE PAGES OF A SCRIPT

O.C. Weekly's patron saint of local storefront theater Joel Beers took in COCKROACH last weekend, and as always he does, turned in a finely-observed review of the piece:

The Monkey Wrench Collective, which is producing the U.S. premiere of Cockroach, has mined yet another diamond in [playwright Sam] Holcroft. The small theater has done a yeoman's job at finding work by young, U.K. playwrights that are edgy and uncompromising in terms of politics and tone. Though not quite as jaw-dropping and assaulting as some of the work done by other Monkey Wrench favorites, such as Mark Ravenhill or Sarah Kane, Holcroft's voice is equally blistering and distinctive. She's a young, British playwright who, based on the deceptively dense waters she navigates in this play, already possesses a talent that any writer of any age would long for: the ability to say as much between her lines as her characters say in them.

Infected as we have been by the uncouth ways of the fictional characters who regularly traipse our stage, we find our baser instincts getting the better of us, compelling us through flooded hormonal pathways to remind you that tickets for the show remain available at the scant cost of but $21 for general admission, and $11 for students who seek a break from the cleaning of blood-caked boots. Those of you whose fear of the internet is not so severe as to prevent you from reading local theater blogs, but which remains enough of a fixture in your life as to scuttle any dream you might have had of utilizing an online order form, may also obtain tickets via the quaint old-timey ritual of dialing 1-800-838-3006 and entrusting your credit card information to the ear of an actual human being. The choice, as ever it is, remains yours alone.

--O.C. Weekly