Matthew Freeman’s “When Is a Clock” may suffer the same fate as countless other pretty good plays, namely, to receive a few small productions and then vanish. But about a third of the way into it there’s a monologue that deserves to be enshrined in some kind of hall of fame: it’s savvy and preposterous and utterly original. At a recent preview performance it drew a burst of applause.
Any ideas as to where this prospective hall of fame would be located?
Matt, will we now have to refer to you as "Hall-of-Famer" Matt Freeman?