“How different is the home life of our own dear Queen.” So, it is reported, a Victorian lady remarked after watching a performance of Shakespeare’s “Antony and Cleopatra.” I wonder what that same lady might have remarked had she seen Edward Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginal Woolf?” I have just finished watching Mike Nichols’s’ movie version of that, probably for the first time in at least 25 years, and the work still has the power to shock.
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