I first became acquainted with Brad Fraser’s “Love and Human Remains” when I was an undergrad at Ithaca College and The Kitchen Theatre in Ithaca had a regional production of it. Like many other college-aged youths, my inner soundtrack consisted of nearly every Cure song. I was full of life, angst, questions, and emotions that I didn’t know existed within me. When I saw the poster for the show, it spoke to me. The people depicted in it were attractive but all looked lost and longing for something. It was like they were communicating “that in which we do not speak of” without words. The sides of ourselves that we hide with make-up, perfectionistic behavior, and the ever-elusive smile. Things looked fine but they weren’t. They really weren’t. What was this show? I saw it that night. And then again the next night. And then one more time before it closed.
In a nutshell, “Love and Human Remains” is an edgy, provocative, dark-humored drama about the intertwined lives of seven individuals. In the backdrop is a serial killer who is terrorizing the women in the city in which they live. These seven individuals are you, me, your neighbor, that guy who sat next to you on the train
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