(Alexis Soloski’s article appeared in The New York Times, 2/26; via Pam Green.)

Remember when we made all that fuss over tea and stamps and the quartering of soldiers? These days, we love our British sovereigns — their crowns and corgis, their palaces and peccadilloes.

If you couldn’t snag a seat near Wills and Kate at that Nets game back in December, don’t despair. This spring, sceptered hands appear on and off Broadway. You can catch Helen Mirren (right) as a stately, tiara-clad Elizabeth II, meeting with her prime ministers in Peter Morgan’s “The Audience”; Brian d’Arcy James as a dotty George III, robed in ermine as he croons a love ballad to the unfaithful colonies in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton”; and Nathaniel Parker as a still-svelte Henry VIII, scheming with Ben Miles’s Thomas Cromwell in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s stage adaptation of Hilary Mantel’s “Wolf Hall” and “Bring Up the Bodies.”


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