The Libertine
“Gentlemen, do not despair,” Rochester reassures us before we have reason to care for a reassurance delivered by him. Blah blah… something something… “I do not want you to like me.” No, really, I couldn’t quite follow what he was saying because he was mumbling, like a poorly mimeographed page of script, an affectation of Jack Sparrow from “Pirates of the Caribbean.” I can follow garbled dialogue when it’s in…