This year's kickline makes for a rollicking finale. Removable petticoats on the costumes are an ingenious invention, especially for the portly Galahad.

Overall, the plot could have used fewer politics and fewer twists in general. Two and a half hours of puns can drag on a bit. And some of the more obvious jokes (such as using "and a partridge in a pear tree" at the end of a list) should have been chopped out altogether.

Still, some of the writing is just plain brilliant. In one scene, Oberon and Titania exchange some witty cereal puns: "Let's just be Frankenberry the hatchet," "Honey Comb home, (Although the tag-line--"Oh, Nut 'n' Honey"--is predictable.)

As always, the other elements of the Pudding show are as professional as they can be. The Pudding knows how to put together a good student production--with some help from veterans in the drama business. (With $300,000 to spend, who wouldn't?)

Edwin Outwater's score carries the show well. He blends kitsch-TV sounds (the Walt Disney theme, that "cachung" sound from "A Current Affair") with strong composing.

The pricy professionals in charge of scenery, choreography, costuming and technical support enhance the show, especially support enhance the show, especially during the kickline when all of the elements fit together perfectly and none of the characters loses his plastic boobs.

The show is especially worth seeing on the $5 student night--but this year, the discount night was poorly scheduled for the second night of the run.

Unfortunately, greedy Class of '93 officials bought out the original student night (March 4) at $5 a head, and are now peddling tickets at $8 each. So if you're an underclass student, you're stuck with the $20 general admission fare--unless you have a friend in the Pudding who'll let you usher.

"It's worth finding a way in somehow. The $20 will seem like small change when a lumbering man in drag kisses you in the aisle.

John A. Cloud '93 and Beth L. Pinsker '93 were editorial chairs of The Crimson in 1992.