The critic is naked

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I received a note this morning from City Paper's Greg Hambrick. He normally writes about important things like news, but last night he went to see the opening of Deuce Theatre's The Emperor Is Naked?

In a seat right in front of him was the theater critic dispatched by The Post and Courier, and as he watched her, Greg realized she had no idea what the play was about. At first, she inquired what the people next to her thought of the play and then she asked several others as she was leaving.

At first, Greg thought she was playing possum when she responded as if she didn't know the play was a satire of the Bush Years, with a bumbling president (i.e., Bush) and a worm-tongue (i.e., Cheney) whispering into his ear. By the time he left, Greg was convinced she wasn't being coy at all. Her review this morning suggests as much:

Co-director [Andrea] Studley, who also wrote the music and lyrics, as well as playing the Weaver with a spot-on Russian accent, already has the seasoned director’s eye for casting. Every one of her players establishes and remains in his character throughout, and in this zany political satire, that is not as easy as it may sound. First, they are sheep, mucking about the stage, making barnyard animal sounds, in simple, homemade costumes, and white face with wide black kohl around their eyes. They are the people — gee, ya think? The sheeple, of course.

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