"Evil wears an all-American glow in Neil LaBute's BASH: LATTERDAY PLAYS ... The characters in this transfixing evening of monologues have that sheen of idealized, corn-country wholesomeness that Madison Avenue has always put such a premium on: clear skin, sparkling eyes and teeth to make an orthodontist cheer. To look at, they're the human equivalents of a glass of milk. But if you know anything about Mr. LaBute ... you probably know already that the milk is laced with arsenic. The stories told in BASH, even the one that occurs beneath a police-interrogation light, all begin with a comforting air of familiarity that goes down bland and easy. Then comes a moment when the taste turns sour, and you feel like gagging. It's as though characters from Ozzie and Harriet had suddenly pulled a shiv on you ... For all its ostensible cynicism, BASH is informed with an earnest, probing moralism as fierce as that of Nathaniel Hawthorne ... That's what Mr. LaBute does best, finding the acid in the blandest substances." -Ben Brantley, The New York Times