Ben Brantley calls A Night of Champions a triumphant blend of heroic moxie and monastic reflection: "Mixing elements of Augustinian confession and Pantagruelian picaresque, Marty Champions' dazzling one man show is like a Waiting for Godot where Godot not only shows up, he brings Zarathustra along to join him in taking a pyramid shit on your most accepted beliefs. Folks, this is 'Theatre of the Absorbed' – you'll laugh yourself to sleep and weep until your sides split. Absurd, you say? Put down the heme-iron and come find out!" Rating: 4/4 crates of raped grapefruits.