An call of desire expressed by extravagant baroque arias and response of pathologic control personified by a mendacious serial killer? Malkovich’s power of control, meant to extend over the audience, seemed to have been more effectively employed over the author. Kudos to UMS for not just sticking with the traditional. But the tension and energy were dampened by the interminable-feeling arias and in the end, to paraphrase one of the sopratitles, failed to “foraminate my breast”.