Waiting for curtain up

Except there are no curtains in theatre in the round. At the Theatre Royal Bury St Edmunds, which has the distinction of being only 50m from the gate of the brewery that brews the beer served in the theatre bar.
We saw Richard, my Richard which attempts to put right the lies spread by those mendacious Tudors. The playwright Philippa Gregory wrote it in iambic pentameter to give that Shakespeare fellow a dose of his own medicine. It required concentration and a family tree of the houses of York and Lancaster. We felt quite sorry for Richard crookback by the end…..