Still, you´ve gotta draw certain conclusions about any piece in which the standout moment involves a man yelling ¨!ooB,¨ and one of them is this: It´s not very smart. Shakespeare people won´t love it. They´ll be mortified that King Lear has been reduced to a single line; they´ll hate that all of Shakespeare´s historical plays have been crammed into a three-minute football game; they´ll loathe Coriolanus´ dismissal from the roster because of the word anus in its title. But this is not a production for Shakespeare people.
Rather, this is a production for folks who want to get out and laugh helplessly at some homegrown theater. As desires go, this one isn´t as simple as it seems, especially out in the suburban boondocks. An intimate venue? Capable actors? Fun script? Good vibes? All together in the same place at the same time? Shit, man. You won´t find that in Weston.