“The language they use to show their smarts and their cool is the language that all of Mamet’s men use: R-rated and graphic. They rattle off four-letter words the way a jazz pianist does blue notes — to spice up a performance that might otherwise be too bland. The problem is that Mamet’s followers in all the narrative arts have made that language mainstream. As a result, the first-act tableaux in a Chinese restaurant, spiels in which three of the salesmen jockey for power, have lost their outrageousness and now seem more like sendups of Mamet.”