Styles—in art, theater, fashion, anything—can change without our being aware of it; it is only when we look back over a gap of years that we are astounded by how creakily old-fashioned the standards of our youth have become. Here’s a photo from parents’ day, 1972, for instance: Was that really me in the maxi-skirt and peasant blouse? And what was my middle-aged father doing sporting sideburns and a psychedelic tie? The same is true of dramatic fashion. Looking back at successful plays from three or four decades ago, it is astounding to see how commercial, middlebrow drama has been streamlined in the intervening years. It was still very usual, in those days, for straight plays to have three acts and last for two-and-a-half to three hours. Today’s audiences have no patience for such length, preferring to be tucked into bed watching Charlie Rose by eleven o’clock. It’s easy enough to put this down to reduced attention spans, competition from other media, etc., but I don’t think this is the whole answer, for audiences are happy enough to spend long evenings at musical extravaganzas like Mary Poppins or Jersey Boys.

The fact is that Broadway musicals, even the mediocre ones, can still do what they do better than TVor movies can. But straight plays are another story. To succeed, they must deliver something that is not attainable on the screen—which is what makes it so interesting to look back on a Broadway hit from the days