I've never really liked stories about the Vietnam War. They have a tendency to either be so factual that they're dead boring, or so esoteric that they're unrelatable to anyone who didn't live through that time. Patricia Cornelius has deftly sidestepped both potential faults in her heartwarming play, The Berry Man.
The rest of this post is published on Australian Stage.
"It is not the critic who counts. Not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause."
-Theodore Roosevelt
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