Caesar takes it in the gut, Shakespeare takes it in the back.
I wonder why Shakespeare draws out the worst - I mean the best (no, I really mean the worst) - in the A.R.T. I haven't seen Julius Caesar yet, but already I'm salivating. Judging from the early reviews, this promises to be one for the A.R.T. history books - only not soul-crushingly-boring-bad like Three Sisters, but so-bad-it's-good-bad, like Romeo and Juliet. The entire cast apparently bows with their butts to the audience, there's a car hanging over the stage for no reason, characters are costumed as Frank, Dino and the Rat Pack, and Caesar's assassination is played out as a dance number. Critic/comedienne Jenna Scherer's take in the Herald is priceless, Louise Kennedy's apologia in the Globe predictably spineless. I. Can't. Wait.
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