‘Get thee glass eyes, and, like a scurvy politician, seem to see things thou dost not.’

by Smitty

It was an inverted tale. Rank falsehood rewarded, truthfulness punished. A government gone mad, handing out favors willy-nilly. Cretins jockeying for power, spreading mis-information liberally. The land desolate, while carloads of hedonists party as if so employed. It wasn’t until the final scenes, when the post-modern nihilism turned to chain-reaction homicide, that I could be entirely certain that King Lear wasn’t, at a high level of abstraction, some kind of statement about the 2008 election.

Cheap shots aside, Keach is the second most rockin’ Stacy I know, and turns in a marvelous performance as a monarch gone nutter. The libretto says that the play was unpopular at the time originally staged. Its mood truly fits these whack times.

Madman leading the blind:


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