My nice brother and his lovely wife took me to a workshop of a new play at Pacific Resident Theatre in Venice this weekend. It was "Wild Boy" by Oliver Goldstick. From the poster, I assumed it was about Kaspar Hauser, but I was wrong. It was about a different German wild boy a hundred years earlier, who was taken up by George I of England (German to the core himself). That story was the frame for a contemporary tale (based on a book by Paul Collins called "Not Even Wrong") about a couple and their autistic child in Portland, Oregon. The parallels between the boys were neatly drawn by having the same actor play both boys. But the playwright trusted the audience to draw the lines connecting the stories other than that (I love it when playwrights do that!). Goldstick, who also directed the play, has written many TV series ("Lipstick Jungle," "Ugly Betty," and "Coach," among others) but this was genuine theatrical theatre. It was a workshop, and there are kinks to get out of it. But I'm still thinking about it four days later so I'm certain there are wonderful things in it.