In the following review, Chernaik calls I'm Not Rappaport "the most amiable play about old age, father-daughter relations, and the terrors of life in New York to have surfaced recently."

Herb Gardner's I'm Not Rappaport is certainly the most amiable play about old age, father-daughter relations, and the terrors of life in New York to have surfaced recently. It is not surprising that it won Broadway's Tony Award for Best Play, since New Yorkers like to think their city and its huddled masses retain at least a shred of humanity, grace and humour—qualities stressed in this cheerful production, to the exclusion, perhaps, of harsher realities. Autumn leaves are falling in Central Park, menace lurks in the bushes; but the human spirit survives: The audience loved it.

Two old men, one black, one white, share a park bench, trading jokes and insults, stories and memories. Herb...