Publisher's Synopsis
Two women find that they have everything in common until the death of a brother drives them apart. Part stand-up comedy, part stand-up tragedy for two. The redhaired mythology that glorifies and empowers two women leads them into a big love, but can't lead them safely out again. A play about the heaviness of the things we carry. "... Sherry Kramer's inventively structured, colorfully written and frequently lyrical play ... The narrative fluidly shifts back and forth between the present and the span of a few days two years earlier, when Jean and Marilyn met and Jean received the fateful phone call from home informing her of David's death ... this thoughtful meditation on loss ..." -Douglas J Keating, The Philadelphia Enquirer "... Kramer is working with some provocative material: Jean and Marilyn, a pair of red-haired temptresses (or so they like to think), meet in an enchanted boudoir setting of bent willow and diaphanous draperies, find that they share a million and one likes and dislikes, old boyfriends, nasty habits and family patterns, and fall in love because of that almost magical twinship ... Kramer does, however, have a way with verbal imagery. Woven through the script are wonderful references to fairy tales - Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel ... The playwright is also adept at monologues chock-full of telling details ..." -Pamela Sommers, The Washington Post "... All the scenes are interspersed with lines from previous scenes and foreshadowings of things to come, so there is a coiled, spiralled tension instead of the suspense of an ordinary linear plot. Except for their monologues about death - and the one opening the second as is a stunner - the actresses are always in duet ... DAVID'S REDHAIRED DEATH is a stirring, annoying and difficult piece of work. But an absorbing one ..." -Elizabeth C Donahoe, The Washington Blade "... Kramer's play is like a puzzle: after slowly and painstakingly connecting a series of dots, one uncovers an integrated image out of what appeared to be chaos ..." -Mary Shen Barnidge, Reader (Chicago)
