In 1972, when David Bowie laudably opted to chuck all pretense at sanity and reincarnate himself as a messianic alien sex god, the gates that kept rock music and the theater apart seemed to be breached. But the problem with Ziggy Stardust was that, once you scraped off the veneer of cool tunes, you were left with little more than a stab at anything like a plot. A "moonage daydream" it might have been, but it stopped making sense in direct ratio to the time it took the... More >>>