The purpose of theater, like magic, like religion . . . is to inspire cleansing awe. What makes good drama? And why does drama matter in an age that is awash in information and entertainment? David Mamet, one of our greatest living playwrights, tackles these questions with bracing directness and aphoristic authority. He believes that the tendency to dramatize is essential to human nature, that we create drama out of everything from today’s weather to next year’s elections. But the highest expression of this drive remains the theater.
With a cultural range that encompasses Shakespeare, Bretcht, and Ibsen, Death of a Salesman and Bad Day at Black Rock, Mamet shows us how to distinguish true drama from its false variants. He considers the impossibly difficult progression between one act and the next and the mysterious function of the soliloquy. The result, in Three Uses of the Knife, is an electrifying treatise on the playwright’s art that is also a strikingly original work of moral and aesthetic philosophy.

This short little book contains a multitude of information and ideas. In the way only Mamet can, he swerves among drama, politics, religion, and all sorts of other subjects. And, also as only Mamet can, he makes it interesting, controversial and definitely worth a re-read. ( )

Mamet is always a compelling writer, and it's hard not to appreciate his stubborn, overconfident torrent of opinions—it's direct and easy to read. But then again, it's smart half the time, and downright silly the other half. ( )

On the positive, Mamet ventures bold and crisp statements on what makes good drama (or, perhaps more accurately, good Mamet-style drama). On the negative, he's wrong as often as he's right. His writing is brilliant; his writing about writing is less so. ( )

A perfect antidote to any thick, ponderous textbook on the history of theater. ( )