The script’s a dud: Antipodes at the Dorfman Theatre reviewed

The Antipodes, by the acclaimed dramatist Annie Baker, is set in a Hollywood writers’ room. Seven hired scribblers are brainstorming a new animated feature under the direction of a mysterious, bearded multimillionaire, Sandy, who seems thoroughly bored with the movie-making process. The script is in its early stages and Sandy decrees that the central character must be a monster. That’s all. The writers can fill in the details. He asks them to indulge in a free-association experiment by describing their first sexual encounter or the scariest moment in their lives. Long speeches follow. Very long, some of them. Sandy loses interest in the project, not surprisingly, and starts to absent himself from the room.

The writers toil on, chatting and wittering. Every word they utter is typed out by an assistant in the hope that inspiration will strike. Days pass. Then weeks. The writers appear to be imprisoned with no means of escape.