Eros, give me the sword, I'll do it MYSELF
...kill Antony, that is. Because blast it all that daft man blanking DESERVED IT. You sloppy, old, balding, pajama-clad, whining, unfaithful CREEP. JERK. What Cleopatra EVER saw in you I shall never fathom, and why she would ever, ever pick you over Caesar (young, clean-cut, and oooooooh so very handsome) is absolutely beyond me.
Then again, why in the world you're wearing a HOT PINK CRINKLY GOWN I don't get either.
ALMOST as bad as Antony in pajamas.
Oh. Dude. Seriously. The costumes were HIDEOUS. Except for the Romans, of course, Caesar and his minions, who were all very smart probably because they were from a different play and thus designed by SOMEONE ELSE. Egyptians' wigs should NOT be made of yarn, the fat eunuch should NOT be wearing lavender, and NO one, EVER, should wear "armor" of a FLIPPING NEON MOSAIC with gold chest and TURQUOISE NIPPLES.
WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO US? WHY? WHY?
The acting was ok, Caesar (the villain, don't you know) was oh-so-terribly likeable, and the soothsayer was all cool, but... but their pillow-case crate-paper costumes in hot pink, purple, or an inGEEEEEEnius combination of green, orange, and brown, were straight out of a TERRIBLE HORRIBLE NO-GOOD VERY BAD SIXTIES CRAP-FILM. They should name a new genre.
Antony was horribly miscast. The man's supposed to be ATTRACTIVE, people, ATTRACTIVE! The kind of man a sexy warrior-queen might actually go for. But failing that, the kind of person the audience won't be so indifferent to that they'll want to JUMP on stage, GRAB the sword that his page oh-so-loyally and oh-so-untragically (*insert dramatic arm-wavings*) refuses to slay his most noble master (*insert more wavings*) with and RUN IT THROUGH HIM JUST TO GET IT OVER WITH.
Though not the actor, of course, as I'm sure he's a perfectly good person. Marc Antony is the one who CAN'T EVEN KILL HIMSELF PROPERLY THE PATHETIC PILLOW-ENCASED PIMP.
It was really quite depressing, overall, in ways it was certainly not meant to be. This is the Utah Shakespearean Festival, people! You're professionals! You're GOOD AT THIS. REALLY.
So what the blank happened here?
Then again, why in the world you're wearing a HOT PINK CRINKLY GOWN I don't get either.
ALMOST as bad as Antony in pajamas.
Oh. Dude. Seriously. The costumes were HIDEOUS. Except for the Romans, of course, Caesar and his minions, who were all very smart probably because they were from a different play and thus designed by SOMEONE ELSE. Egyptians' wigs should NOT be made of yarn, the fat eunuch should NOT be wearing lavender, and NO one, EVER, should wear "armor" of a FLIPPING NEON MOSAIC with gold chest and TURQUOISE NIPPLES.
WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO US? WHY? WHY?
The acting was ok, Caesar (the villain, don't you know) was oh-so-terribly likeable, and the soothsayer was all cool, but... but their pillow-case crate-paper costumes in hot pink, purple, or an inGEEEEEEnius combination of green, orange, and brown, were straight out of a TERRIBLE HORRIBLE NO-GOOD VERY BAD SIXTIES CRAP-FILM. They should name a new genre.
Antony was horribly miscast. The man's supposed to be ATTRACTIVE, people, ATTRACTIVE! The kind of man a sexy warrior-queen might actually go for. But failing that, the kind of person the audience won't be so indifferent to that they'll want to JUMP on stage, GRAB the sword that his page oh-so-loyally and oh-so-untragically (*insert dramatic arm-wavings*) refuses to slay his most noble master (*insert more wavings*) with and RUN IT THROUGH HIM JUST TO GET IT OVER WITH.
Though not the actor, of course, as I'm sure he's a perfectly good person. Marc Antony is the one who CAN'T EVEN KILL HIMSELF PROPERLY THE PATHETIC PILLOW-ENCASED PIMP.
It was really quite depressing, overall, in ways it was certainly not meant to be. This is the Utah Shakespearean Festival, people! You're professionals! You're GOOD AT THIS. REALLY.
So what the blank happened here?