No Man’s Land surprised me. I expected to be confused: all the reviews I’d read waxed eloquently about playwright Pinter’s existentialism, his brilliance in making it impossible for the audience to really pinpoint what’s going on in his plays. So, I didn’t laugh at the dark humor, nor did I try to analyze every single word uttered; I just listened. I was intrigued. Who are these men? How are they connected? These are the questions I was asking myself at intermission, and the answers were revealed–at least in part–in the second act. The end of the play leaves one with a few more questions that would best be discussed over coffee with a good friend. Who’s really free? The successful poet entrapped by his riches and his ever-present “protective” staff? The poor man whose words never quite put enough food on the table and thus produced a poet-turned-opportunist late in life? The man who still has his mental faculties or the one who seems to be slipping a bit in his memory? The men who’ve indentured themselves to a wealthy alcoholic or the one who can fire them with a word–if only he could stay sober long enough to do so? Perhaps the characters are stuck in that netherworld of “no man’s land,” but as an audience, it’s nice to be able to mull over the larger questions of life and draw one’s own definite conclusions. If you haven’t seen “No Man’s Land,” check it out this weekend. You might just be intrigued.