boy writes one word novels, sister who pretends to believe in mouse words, and philosopher father who fives by benefit fraud; sustained innocence and blessed derangement
records the adventures of some penniless people who are camping out on the stage of an abandoned theatre that is about to be pulled down for a housing project
Sam, a nice bank clerk, whom everybody likes, is falsely accused of robbing the bank. That's Act 1. Act 2 opens with the line: 'This is where things get worse.' And they do. Sam, having been bashed on the head, is now mad; but only North by North West. He just wants to jump higher than anybody has ever done. The characters include a rival bank clerk, the bank manager, a stripper, a blind beggar, a Teddy boy, a Russian, a gypsy, an Irish priest, Princess Margaret, a racing tipster, two grandparents, a man with a clock and an ambassador for the audience. The play, as you might expect, is an allegory with a political agenda. There's talk of the Atom bomb and the born, the dying and the dead. The style is strictly expressionistic. The critics in 1960 had a field day: 'a ragbag of shallow nonsense,' said the Evening Standard. 'Appears to be written by a nine-year-old,' said The Daily Mail. 'Pretty exasperating,' said the Evening News. 'Obscure,' said The Daily Telegraph. 'Wholly unnecessary experiment,' said The Tatler. 'An evening of rare monotony,' said The Times. Saroyan, never a man to take things lying down, wrote an incoherent letter to the critics, which ended with this comment: 'I say Sam is a good play. I'm sorry you say it isn't. One of us is obviously mistaken. Knowing the paltry little I know, I almost believe it is me.' The critics did not reply.Robert Tanitch, British Theatre Guide
