All life in a police state is interesting, probably corrupt and potentially subversive as portrayed in this absurdist but seemingly autobiographical play by Czech playwright Vaclav Havel. As in Phoenix, to cite an example, police don't care about guilt, innocence, justice or mercy. If anyone is accused of a crime, they want a conviction. In Havel's play, Professor Leopold Nettles is charged with "disturbing the intellectual peace." Only in a police state could anyone invent such a wide-ranging crime. In Phoenix, conviction means a fine. In Havel's play, a conviction may mean an indeterminate sentence in semi-starved misery in a distant gulag. Once suspected, Leopold knows he's guilty in the eyes of the state. The play portrays a variety of people who visit him, proud that he speaks up in defiance of the authorities - - - but unwilling to join him in his stand for intellectual freedom. Leopold, like Havel for much of his life, is utterly alone. But who are the well-wishers who applaud his dissidence? Are they friends, or secret police agents as provocateurs? Two police agents who visit offer a clever means to avoid prosecution; in effect, "just agree to our falsehoods and all charges will go away." Really? A trap? Are the police undermining the government they serve? How can anyone trust anything? Such is the nature of 'Largo Desolato' and life in a police state. --Theodore A. Rushton at Amazon.com.