The action [of "The 5th of July"] just seems to drift along. There are monologues—indeed, the play at times could be considered an amalgam of these arias which arise out of not much of anything—there are sessions of reminiscence of the old days at Berkeley …; there are dustups and reconciliations; and there are a few passages of genuine comedy. Yet beneath all the apparently random activity there are feelings, most of them sexual, and a story, of sorts, is being told. The evening ends with a burst of violence, a revelation, and a resolution, also of sorts.

"The 5th of July" is Mr. Wilson's most ambitious play so far, and, regrettably, it is his most verbose, seeming at times to be almost smothered in words; those monologues become very trying. There is no doubt, though, that he is a writer, in a profession crowded with non-writers...