The Fredösphere

If I won't endure a drive to Detroit for opera, you can be sure I wasn't willing to fly out to Washington D.C. for a sci-fi production of Boris Godunov in January:

The Kirov production team opted for antiquity garnished with sci-fi: Medieval boyars and monks acting out their ceremonies and prophetic visions amid scenic elements that might have been borrowed from "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" and "The Day the Earth Stood Still." As Boris' coronation reaches its climax, a stylized crown descends. It would be a majestic descent, except that the crown looks like a Hershey's kiss that has turned neon-red and sprouted horns and ground lights. A fleet of the things later descend on Boris and his boyars. The Muscovite nobles confront their suspect czar after emerging from form-fitting boyar boxes. They come in boxes, apparently, for the same reason that Boris is crowned while encased in a cage -- fated to play out their roles inflexibly (although outfitted with wheels for easier mobility).

For an alternate take, read Jens Laurson at ionarts, who liked all aspects of the show, finding the sets "poignant, not gimmicky," and he provides photos of the Hershey's kiss and even the mechanical spider (!) that unfolds in Boris' death scene. Two different critics, two different opinions.  We can't allow this to continue.  We need all critics to agree on a common set of metrics, a set of objectively measurable criteria for evaluating a performance.  This will solve the problem of conflicting opinions.  Yes, that's what we need.  Science.