Oh hi Couch and other oldies and newbies.

I was jarred from my long TH induced slumber earlier this week by news of his Hamlet. Unfortunately the article I read was the Times, and to quote Branagh:
“The play also asks, ‘What is reality? What are facts? And whose facts are they?’ In the age of fake news, our audience can’t avoid that connection. And underpinning that rage, it also talks of the effects of ‘the poison of deep grief’.”
Fake news... what is reality... the poison of deep grief...
This could be catastrophically worse than leftover bolognese at dawn.

I think regardless of the possibility of years of preliminary discussions, Sir Ken and not yet Sir TH intend to draw deeply on the summer of (no) regrets. To date it's the source of his greatest anguish and an untapped goldmine of torment.