Cher public, if you plan to see the Met’s production of From the House of the Dead (and you might as well know that she expects you move heaven and earth to do so!), La Cieca urges and entreats that you avoid reading Anthony Tommasini‘s review of the production in tomorrow’s New York Times.
Incredibly, about halfway through his critique, the scribe manages to disclose director Patrice Chéreau‘s most spectacular coup de théâtre, which (duh!) is meant to be a surprise, Tony, and next time why don’t you just tell us the psychiatrist was dead the whole time?
Briefly: Tommasini loved everything about the production, the music, the direction, the naked guys. So now you don’t have to read his review.
And now La Cieca believes she is entitled to a well-deserved facepalm.
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