What, David Harewood? You think you are all that?

Well, I guess he's right. From the endless trove of goodness that is the NYT In Performance vault. David Harewood and his arms do Oberon right at you. Seriously right to your face.

There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,

Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight.

And there the snake throws her enameled skin,

Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.

And with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes

And make her full of hateful fantasies

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Crying on cue? How about laughing?

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