Max Frisch: Andorra

Ugh, I hate message theater. Tom Lindblade, one of the better directors I know, would always ask before a musical number would begin something to the effect of "Why are you singing this? What is it about this that it can't be simply spoken?" The same sentiment applies to all theater in my mind. What is it about this that can't be conveyed in a novel or short story? Why must it be seen, performed, to be adequately conveyed? I don't feel like Andorra manages to justify its existence by this standard. There is nothing new, no compelling image, no line so striking that it simply must be read aloud. I'm sure the idea is a worthy one, that we are all victims of our identities, our labels, but I am not convinced that it would not be adequately--even better- served in a story or essay. In that form, it would probably be powerful, but as a play, all I can manage is an eyeroll.