The Apocalypse Cometh
NoteThis bundle consisting of five books is sold at 20% off the regular price for its individual titles.
A collection of five apocalyptic and dystopian plays portending calamitous events, some of which treat the future with discomfiting seriousness, some of which tickle the funny bone, all of which provoke rich contemplation of both our present and what lies ahead.
- About the Author(s)
AREA OF RESCUE
“Set in a dystopic future … a family struggles with the death of a young mother, drowned under mysterious circumstances … This is a future where, the audience gleans, laws are based on moral absolutes, and religion delineates one’s place in society.” —culturebot.org
“The vast reservoir of pop culture Lyle mines to create dialogue that is both realistic and stylized reveals a kind of Aspergery love of language that’s hard to overpraise. The play isn’t laden with jokes so much as a way of saying things with hilarious understatement. You may want to see it twice just to hear all the lines you missed the first time.” —Arnold Wayne Jones, Dallas Voice
“It could have been enough for Lyle to set the entire play at this awkward, weird, and painfully honest barbecue; he still would have ended up with an engaging lark that’s sitcom-funny. But then he decides to end the world.” —Lyndsey Wilson, D Magazine
“BARBECUE APOCALYPSE is a tasty nine-layer dip of comedy commentary about the slippery matters of marriage, adult friendships and career failure (real or perceived).” —Elaine Liner, Dallas Observer
“A good comedy makes you laugh. A really good one makes you think. BARBECUE APOCALYPSE is a really good comedy.” —Nancy Churnin, Dallas Morning News
“A hilarious frenzy of existential angst.” —Martha Heimberg, TheaterJones.com
“BARBECUE APOCALYPSE suggests, in no uncertain terms, that these thoroughly average Americans were far more savage when they were sipping mango margaritas and failing to make small talk as compared to a year later when their new hobbies include devouring raccoons and threatening to stab electronic devices, among other acts defined as depraved by current standards of decorum.” —Kevin Greene, Chicago Stage Standard
“… Alan Bowne’s stunner about love in the plague years. It’s ‘the near future’: we’re in a dump of a room on the Lower East Side, where a young man named Torch has been quarantined after testing positive for a nameless disease that sounds a lot like AIDS. His girlfriend, Blue, who has not been infected, makes the dangerous journey across the quarantine line to be with him … The marvel of Mr Bowne’s work is the richly raunchy language, tuned to the gritty rhythms of the street. It’s crude yet lyrical; even at its most scatological, the dialog sings … They (Torch and Blue) are a Romeo and Juliet of the boroughs, an East Side story … the poetry and power of BEIRUT …” —Walter Goodman, The New York Times
“… Alan Bowne makes a statement about sexually transmitted disease that is more powerful than all the soapbox orations which have been attempted theatrically to explore the subject. He deals with the human spirit as it faces the inevitable, and it is a spirit of hope and love, of logic and of empathy …” —T H McCulloh, Drama-Logue
“The year is 2028. A massive earthquake has reconfigured Southern California, wiping out Los Angeles and Orange County. The whole region has to be reconceived. In a controversial move, a new city-state has been proposed, combining San Diego and Tijuana into one cross-cultural community known as Nuevo California. This imaginary world is at the center of a new play premiering at the San Diego Repertory Theater. So the wall is coming down and there’s a Mexican-American pope who comes to the region to bless its demolition. What follows is a wild mix of fantasy and reality — chaos and crisis, murder, mystery and a budding bicultural romance — all played out by Mexicans, Anglos, Asians, blacks, Jews, Muslims and Kumi Indians.” —Robert Siegel, All Things Considered, N P R News
RAIN. SOME FISH. NO ELEPHANTS.
“In Y York’s futuristic comedy RAIN. SOME FISH. NO ELEPHANTS., genetic engineering has produced a submissive nation of clones and drones. Everything is gene coded so all individuality can be obliterated, except for one stubbornly old-fashioned family trying to thaw the perpetual nuclear winter. That winter is actually an endless floodlike rainy season. The play … begins as a kind of science-fiction variation on YOU CAN’T TAKE IT WITH YOU with a wildly eccentric family resolutely staying out of the mainstream. In this case, the father is a crank who has quit his scientific post in a dehumanizing laboratory to go fishing. He neglects his suicidal wife and their two very odd daughters. The catalyst for renewal is a black man, cloned to be a member of a faceless servant class. Removed from his diet of ‘stoppers,’ pills that deny incentive, he becomes a rebel. As conceived by York … he is an engaging figure, awakening to his personality as well as to his racial identity … [Y York] has created a thought provoking comic parable about mankind’s indomitability. As much as anything, the play is concerned with the survival of history itself …” —Mel Gussow, The New York Times