The End of This Play Isn’t Written Yet: The Skin of Our Teeth at Lincoln Center (for Parterre Box)

Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes

“We came through the Depression by the skin of our teeth! One more tight squeeze like that and where will we be?”

Thus spake Sabina, the Antrobus family’s saucy, mordantly wise maid. But even as she confides in us, there’s worse just around the corner. It’s August, yet a wall of ice looms above, ready to engulf the family’s gracious Excelsior, New Jersey home.

Trouble is brewing for Henry, the Antrobus’s young son, whose aim with a slingshot is frighteningly precise, and whose forehead bears a mysterious mark that can’t be removed (Mrs. Antrobus has tried). Oh, and a mass group of refugees are seeking shelter. Not to mention a dinosaur and a mammoth!…

Click here to read the full post at Parterre Box
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