It’s rare to encounter a piece of theater whose existence owes itself to an act of courage. One hears much in cafés and bars haunted by creative types about “the bravery of artists,” about our admirable willingness to “dig deep,” to “go there.”
This play, in its very inception, gives meaning to such tired niceties. It is a challenge to our fundamental moral biases, savagely undermining any easy conventional judgements about evil, psychopathy, criminality, or the like.
At the fearless heart of “And What of the Children” lies an excruciating question: Given comparable conditioning, would you do any differently? Could you do any differently?
This does not make for a fun reflection. But if one is willing to “go there,” it has the power to facilitate an encounter with our humanity at its rawest, most ambiguous, and most essential.