This is a story without an end. No, it’s two stories, one that’s sad because its protagonist takes a dubious path knowing that with it goes his integrity and the other because the odds are so against success and a life worth living for a young woman who deserves a chance.
A voice sang the first line of a song “Waiting for a train” and so we knew where we were, what she was doing and, without introduction and in the most informal way, Molly Taylor told us her story.
His lyrics need a good lyricist and his music a tune now and again but his enthusiasm is infectious, he’s humorous, engaging – and he knows his Darwin.
I first heard Florence Foster Jenkins one morning on the radio. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe that anyone could sing so badly, have the nerve to be recorded and that a reputable radio station would play it. All was explained when the announcer reminded us that it was April Fool’s Day.
To tell you the truth, I wanted the play to end before it did because I was so confused, so involved, so anxious and so pent up about what they call this “cat and mouse thriller” that I wasn’t sure where it was going.