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...closest to it at the very beginning. As the light go up, cast members in rags spill out over the stage area and into the audience, assaulting, abusing, fondling, pickpocketing and beating each other. Here is Brecht's London writ small, and the streetsinger (Kermit Norris) croons the familiar "Mack the Knife" over it. But for some reason his costume has no tatters, and his delivery of the ballad is prim and affected. So much for anarchy and dissipation...

Author: By Scott A. Rosenberg, | Title: Threepennys Worth--Barely | 10/28/1978 | See Source »

MACHEATH HAS TO be a man of the world who knows how to survive, who's grown a little shabby, a little scruffy, perhaps, but who keeps his sense of style along with his white gloves. Allen C. Kennedy's Mack the Knife sounds like a two-bit punk who got lost in Flatbush and somehow ended up in London, 1830. It's not necessarily a wrong-headed interpretation, but it needs strength, consistency, and a sense of Macheath's age--and Kennedy gives it none of these...

Author: By Scott A. Rosenberg, | Title: Threepennys Worth--Barely | 10/28/1978 | See Source »

Marvin Molar, who walks on his hands and can balance on a finger; Herman Mack, who eats an entire car; Joe Lon Mackey, a homicidal sadist. This gallery of grotesques could only have been invented by Harry Crews, a Southern gothic novelist who often makes William Faulkner look pastoral by comparison...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Like It Was | 10/23/1978 | See Source »

Over the summer, William S. Friedman '79, a CHUL member who worked in University Hall this summer, and Mack I. Davis, director of advanced standing, interviewed House Masters and senior tutors to determine the feasibility of such a program...

Author: By J. WYATT Emmerich, | Title: CHUL Will Consider Initiating Program for Room Exchanges | 10/10/1978 | See Source »

...Anthony's Pier Four. Not that there wasn't a goodly share of staggering bodies--between the bar and the sheer crush of it all--but something was definitely missing. The faithful had pitched camp, sweating in their polyester skins and listening to the too-slick band that played "Mack the Knife" too slow and then sprinted through "Stardust". But the scavengers--curious little fish that nose around a campaign for a few months and then, once the blood is spilled, turn around and feed off the winner, tearing off little scraps like state jobs and discreet kickbacks--they weren...

Author: By Francis J. Connolly, | Title: The Friends of Ed King | 9/26/1978 | See Source »

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