excellent music, gave a hint of what might have been. Her direct address to the aucience, and ner noalse well-timed delivery, made sense of the play's vulgar humour for a while.
Upstaging everyone was the set. A dizzying series of sumptuous visually distracting props were rolled on and rolled off, or flown in and flown out.
was fetishistic parade not dissimilar to the end of The Generation Game, with its conveyor belt of consumer goods: an apparently real vintage vehicle (full-size), a huge carousel-type horse, four-poster bed particularly speclaculai entrance even received applause.
A combination of the undecide production opulent direction restricted what remained of the original meaning to the words Brecht's message about the influence of a tull stomach upon virtue ('It's food that morals flow from...') and the luxury of moral judgewas mostly undermined. The song with which the play ended, remonstrating with the ausorry e tof manson earth, dience consider was no more than another big Ine necessar concluding razzamatazz.
bormac POOR CHAP!
ALWAY LEAVES HIM EMOTIONALLY DRAINED!!