Word: ragging
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...stranger appears, cries out against the damnation festering in the world, and asks to be hanged for double murder of the rag and bones man and a pimp, only to be ignored. A witch arrives, breathless from a chase over eight walls, but is nonetheless scheduled for an early a.m. burning. Alizon Eliot, a young breath of innocence fresh from the convent, comes to marry Humphrey Devise, is playfully desired by the impish younger brother Nicholas, falls in love with orphaned Richard, the Mayor's clerk, and grows into a woman by the end of act three. The witch, Jennet...
There remains only Old Skipps, the rag and bones man who rises drunkly from the would-be dead to bring down the house with laughter and send the lovers home. And Barry Levin is a convincing drunk. And the play is convincingly optimistic...
...island in the Caribbean that calls itself a Free Associated State, or Commonwealth. El Mundo, the island's largest newspaper, admiring the tidy formality of the link to the Federal Government that the other noncontiguous territories achieved in statehood, called the commonwealth relationship "a sloppy and ridiculous rag doll." The Statehood Party (24% of the vote in the last election) took new hope. But the architect of commonwealth, Governor Luis Muñoz Marin (TIME cover, June 23), coolly got going on a plan to move Puerto Rico toward greater autonomy under the U.S. flag...
...Verdon moments worth counting are few, but one fine one is a witty chorus number called The Uncle Sam Rag, parodying a sedately British version of U.S. ragtime. As Essie's muscular true love, Richard Kiley is good in voice and virile in manner. The lackluster score sounds like eight notes in search of a composer, and the book should be returned to the moths from which it was borrowed. But Redhead's flaws are not in its star...
...staged by Felsenstein Protégé Joachim Herz but supervised by the boss himself, stressed naturalistic stage effects, an infinite concern for dramatic detail, and acting of startling realism. The curtain rose on an iron grille stretched across the proscenium, representing the palace gate separating the chorus of rag-clad Chinese from the palace courtyard, where one of Turandot's unsuccessful suitors was about to be executed. The mob faced the audience in silence for several seconds, hissed in hypnotic fascination at their gruesome vision. Only then did the music begin. Throughout, the stage blazed with barbaric lights...