There’s a feeling I get with Shepherd’s plays that is rare for me when I attend the theater. Not to sound snotty, but I’ve attended a lot of plays over the years, and it takes quite a lot for me to respond deeply. I often feel like emotions skim over me rather than take root. Something that has happened to me in the past with this playwright’s work and was the case again last night that at times in the action, especially towards the end, I felt an all-encompassing, paralysing sense of SOMETHING, almost like being frozen for a few seconds. It might have been anxiety, it might have been foreboding, it might have just been plain fear. It’s not super comfortable and it’s a bit overwhelming, but it is also refreshing to feel that much, and the odd thing about it is I leave the theater each time from Shepherd’s plays feeling renewed, and oddly lighter.

Review: Plan-B’s ‘My Brother Was a Vampire’ is bloody, brilliant (Gephardt Daily)