Shepard’s Family Trilogy and the Conventions of Modern Realism

The final moment of Sam Shepard’s Buried Child holds one of the most potent theatrical images of contemporary American drama. As the off-stage (upstairs) voice of the mother, Halie, recites a litany that celebrates the miraculous regenerative power of the rain, TILDEN [her son] appears from stage left, dripping with mud from the knees down. His arms and hands are covered with mud. In his hands he carries the corpse of a small child at chest level, staring down at it. The corpse mainly consists of bones, wrapped in muddy, rotten cloth. He moves slowly downstage toward the staircase, ignoring VINCE on the sofa. As HALIE‘S voice continues, TILDEN slowly makes his way up the stairs. His eyes never leave the corpse of the child. The lights keep fading.1