Theater: Blood Pudding

Beclch, by Rochelle Owens. Whether bright or dim, there are more lights in the theatrical firmament than those that gleam on the marquees on Broadway or off. Last week Philadelphia was host to a new drama of serious intent. As the playgoer enters the Theater of the Living Arts, he hears a soundtrack from nature as raucous and insidious as the din of city traffic. Cockatoos screech and hippopotamuses snort. Over the stage stretch tangled plastic vines. On the walls are murky film blowups of lions, elephants and monkeys. A combination of bamboo palace...

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