When I was in college, it was a common sight to see every theater major with a copy of Shepard's "Seven Plays" neatly placed on their shelf.

This anthology, which was published in the early '80s, was a treasure trove of various theatrical elements. It contained beautiful poetry that added a touch of elegance to the plays. The experimentation within the works pushed the boundaries of traditional theater, bringing a fresh and exciting perspective. The attitude and rebelliousness that oozed from the pages were captivating, making the plays stand out. The sordidness and in-your-face theatrics added a raw and gritty feel, while the crazy monologues were both entertaining and thought-provoking.

Some of the plays, like "Curse of the Starving Class," have aged gracefully and continue to resonate with audiences today. Others, such as "La Turista," still manage to mystify and intrigue, leaving viewers with a sense of wonder. And then there are those plays like "Buried Child," "True West," and "Savage/Love" that delight audiences just as much today as they did 30 years ago.

Personally, I would still choose Shepard over O'Neill any day. His unique style and ability to create engaging and memorable plays make him a favorite among theater enthusiasts.

In their parents’ kitchen, two brothers rekindle their relationship. Austin returns from northern Texas to complete his screenplay. His brother Lee, on the other hand, returns from the stark wilderness of an unspecified western plain.

Over nine acts, we witness how these two men interact, how their upbringing has molded their personalities, and how they manage to survive. The superb Steppenwolf adaptation of “True West” is available on YouTube (highly recommend). It features a pensive and straight-laced Gary Sinese, and a glowering and capricious John Malkovich in conversation, always within a few feet of the table. Shepard's command of language is evident as he shows how the mythologies of the untamed western spirit and the allure of Hollywood fame weigh heavy on the two men as albatrosses of desire. Desire, madness, and danger are intricately woven into the dialogue as the men's psyches unravel throughout a dark night of the soul.

Equally effective for me was the unrelenting “Buried Child”. An elderly couple inhabits a farm that is both fallow and emotionally barren. Children and grandchildren return to the farm, but they come back as deranged, catatonic, or simply as strangers. The remnants of a loving and emotionally supportive family can be seen in the fresh crops, or in Vincent's return from his western home, or in the wraithlike presence of a son who died too young. The play teeters on the edge of the surreal but never descends into parody. The tranquil midwestern American home is uprooted by failed promises, unfulfilled potential, and bad faith.

The other play that truly impressed me was “Tooth of Crime”. A rock n roll kingpin endeavors to maintain his throne against an ascending challenger. It has a gritty yet more cartoonish feel. The dialogue is highly stylized, with a lyrical nod to 60s pop songs and a sense of beat authenticity. The two men engage in a verbal duel, similar to a rap-battle, vying for supremacy. In their exchanges, vulgarity and threats are hurled, and the dark undercurrent of unchecked power prevails.

The experimental plays “Tongues” and “Savage Love”, while not linear or narrative-driven, offer a powerful example of Shepard's efforts to push the form towards abstract extremes. Meaning can be found in the tonalities of voice, shamanistic chants, and the brief moments of connection between people.

If these plays were simply meant to provoke, would they have endured? I don't think so. Sure, there's the grit, the despair, and the brutalism, but all of this reveals deeper truths. Themes such as the promise of the west, the security of the traditional family, and the ability to rise above our circumstances are explored here. The quest to find roots, a sense of belonging, and security is a fundamental human instinct. These plays provide a space for characters who lack all of this, often being malevolent, sociopathic, drug-addled, or broken. By creating a space for the dark impulses of the id and the harsh realities of the lonely and disconnected West, Shepard constructs a particularly perilous world. And I would imagine that seeing these works performed today would be just as revealing as it was when they were written in the 1970s. All of this boldness... just a few steps away from the kitchen table.