In one-and-twenty years, the expletive has lost its edge (from frigging overuse), but the play, set in the shark tank of Chicago real estate, retains its bite. Now, more clearly than before, one realizes that the dirtiest words that pass between these snarling conmen/salesmen, the most hateful and hurtful daggers-to-the-heart, are a staple that has carried over from sand box days—"I never liked you!"—and here it passes back and forth more than once. David Mamet, the acknowledged expert at expletives, can somehow still make that simple line sting and sing.

A cast of seven—seven very angry men, under Joe Mantello's pile driving direction—did what they could with the material at hand, which is to say they did everything but swing from the florescent lighting. You could almost hear the audience getting off on the acting.

At least you could on opening night where that magnificent seven was pretty much found guilty by a jury of their peers of brilliant ensemble work. The starry assemblage seemed like an emergency session of Actors' Equity, so packed was the house with appreciative practitioners of the acting art. All rose at once at the end in what seemed (even if you knock off a notch or two for the natural effusiveness of first nighters) a sincere salute.

Auxiliary, but essential, glitter included Terrence McNally (Tony winning author of Love! Valour! Compassion and Master Class), Richard Adler (composer of The Pajama Game and Damn Yankees!), Jon Robin Baitz (author of The Paris Letter), Camp director Todd Graff and camp playwright-actor Charles Busch, and such authorities in the field as real estate mogul Barbara Corcoran and Prudential CEO Dorothy Herman.

With almost all of the above, there was at least one degree of separation between them and either playwright Mamet, director Mantello or producer Jeffrey Richards. For the latter, the revival represented something of a promotion (maybe self-promotion is the word); lead producer this time around, he was publicist for the original production, which was brought to Broadway by Elliot Martin and The Shuberts. "I think this was one of the most difficult shows to promote because nobody knew what the [aforementioned bleep] the title meant," he recalled. "Somebody in the press thought it was a riff on Macbeth." [The title refers to two exotically named seedy little subdivisions which the hucksters are shillings.]

Did I neglect to mention that all this is a comedy? An abrasive, bruising one sometimes drawing blood, but a comedy all the same, fiercely funny in its detailed observations of the male of the species fighting for survival and dominance in a contemporary jungle.