Aaron Sorkin’s new Camelot has nothing to say
The opening scene of Camelot is stark. White snow covers the floor, drifting past a gray sky; on stage, beneath curvaceous stone arches, stands a bench and a tree, shorn of leaves. It is a mood that is prescient of what is to come: an experience that is beautiful but empty. Camelot first premiered in 1960, adapted from T. H White’s novel The Once and Future King. For this lavish revival, Aaron Sorkin has created a new book, departing from Alan Jay Lerner’s original, and teamed up with director Bartlett Sher. But, despite the retention of many of Frederick Loewe’s easy-to-the-ear songs, Camelot doesn’t know what it wants to be. Is it a frivolous comedy? A lovelorn tragedy? A study in good governance?
