A Meditation on Life's Absurdity is No Place for Politics

I'm a sucker for meditation on life's mysteries and meaning. In fact, I think of myself lately as a "logos-holic."

So why wouldn't I like the new, much-talked-about production of Exit the King, starring Geoffrey Rush? Particularly given my turn toward existentialism of late, and its cutting meditations on life's absurdities, as well as Rush's acclaimed performance?

Heather MacDonald notes the power of the play, but bemoans the politically didactic production.

I think a fair-minded person would agree that if I approach of work a literature deeply concerned about my own mortality, the fleeting nature of my desire and the falling away of all that is within me, the last thing I care about is George W. Bush, as cast member Susan Sarandon and the show's producer do; attempting to shoehorn it into this great work.

Why are they not denounced as philistines then by the theater community? I don't know.

But perhaps I'll search Amazon for another production of this masterpiece.

Thanks anyway, Broadway.