The five-paragraph theme has long been a staple of the composition curriculum. This can be credited to several factors: it is simple, makes its case clearly, and is easy for the reader to understand. It is also versatile--the form can be applied to almost any subject. Most important to students, however, is its simplicity.

A five-paragraph theme begins with an introduction. This paragraph is designed to catch the reader's attention, state the subject, and limit it to the single topic which will be discussed. This may be done with a funnel, bringing the reader from a broad opening topic to the limited thesis; an interesting or startling quote which is pertinent to the subject; or a brief anecdote. The most important part of this paragraph is the thesis, which is usually its final sentence. This sentence states the writer's position on the topic.

Once a thesis is stated, it must be developed. This occurs in the paper's body paragraphs. When there are three major points supporting the thesis, each will be given a body paragraph. This is what usually happens, because unless the writer has at least three points, she probably doesn't have enough support to justify holding the position her thesis presents. In developing the thesis, examples are often helpful in clarifying exactly what is intended. This clarity is important, because these are the paragraphs which explain the writer's argument.

After evidence in support of the thesis has been presented, most of the writer's work is done. All that remains is to let the reader know that the paper is finished. This requires a conclusion. The most common method of conclusion is the summary, which briefly recaps the evidence and restates the thesis.

And this results in a five-paragraph theme. By following the simple format of introduction, development, and conclusion, anyone can write a paper on almost anything. What remains is to revise the paper, if time allows, and put it into the required manuscript form. This done, the writer may turn it in knowing that, while it may not be the most exciting paper in the world, it will present her argument clearly and competently.

We've watched Jeff Daniels use the Purple Rose Theatre Company as a personal launching pad for his career as a playwright for years and accepted this as the price of theatre in Chelsea. We should have seen it, instead, as practice, because Daniels has finally gotten it right.

He has gotten close before. Escanaba in da Moonlight, Norma and Wanda, and Across the Way were all good in more ways than not. But Guest Artist is not just a funny play—something we expect, because Daniels does comedy well. It is not just a well-crafted play, nor interesting as a concept. Each of these plays showed an artist coming to grasp with voice, concept, and craft. With Guest Artist, Daniels has matured. His craft is evident in the plotting and pacing, the use of repetition and so many other tricks writers use to reinforce message, surprise, and entertain. His love of the art for its own sake has never been more apparent, nor his idea of art's, and the artist's, role.

Yet what makes this an important play is not its technical competency—this is only a necessary foundation, and building it is a skill now thoroughly mastered. What makes it important, even worth all those years of practice, is in both what it says and how it is said.

'How' first. The piece is set in a bus station in Steubenville, Ohio, where a young theatre apprentice is to meet Jim Harris, a playwright commissioned to provide the local troupe's next offering. The relationship that develops between the two seems to be based on Daniels' own with Lanford Wilson, adding an emotional depth to the work. The two never leave the bus station (read it as Sartre's hell), using it instead as a platform for the power struggle that is Guest Artist's 'what'.

Harris, as noted above, owes the Steubenville Players a new play, and has come to be part of its production. He doesn't want to deliver. This is where the years of practice come into play: the construction of this interplay is flawless, almost effortless, leaving us with a pair of perfectly realized characters in an entirely believable situation.

This combination, in turn, drives the 'what'—and allows Guest Artist to become important. This is not a philosophical vehical, but Harris lets Daniels share his views on the playwright's role, theatre's role, and the writing process in contemporary society. The political, emotional, and artistic are not 'subjects' or 'themes', but passionately held beliefs, fears, and personal insights from Harris and the apprentice as they struggle to make sense of themselves, their world, and their work. Here, at last, Daniels has moved from using the theatre as springboard, metaphor, or representation to presenting theatre as life, and in so doing announces himself as an important new playwright, even if he isn't really new.