Robert Carlton Stimmel and Jim Hopkins Photo by Phil Armstrong

The Cincy Shakes production, staged by Artistic Director Brian Isaac Phillips, maintains the frantic, frenetic pace of the movie's TV newsroom and the programs produced there. Multiple screens display the UBS network test pattern logo and take us to and from the story's cinematic moments. Robert Carlton Stimmel's media design is anchored by his role as a "Technician/Sound Guy" with a handheld camera, ramping up the intimacy and emotion of virtually every moment of the two-hour production. Intermission is literally bracketed by the audience's engagement, encouraged to shout, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore." That invokes and sustains the show's hurtling momentum.

Every piece of scenery and furniture, designed by Jon Savage, from the anchor desk to offices to apartments, is on wheels, making scene changes swift and fluid. Actors and stagehands roll everything on and off, so no time is lost when a location changes. Director Phillips keeps his foot constantly on the accelerator. Compelling video underscores these moments and extends the impact of selected monologues.

Although there is plenty of behind-the-scenes and corporate intrigue, the success of Network relies almost entirely on the high-stakes performance of Jim Hopkins as the crazed news anchor Howard Beale. This 19-season Cincy Shakes veteran is typically the most physically imposing actor onstage, regardless of his character. But he is the perfect choice to play Beale. At first he has the comforting, grandfatherly presence of an established news anchor, but as Beale becomes ever more unhinged, the power of Hopkins's deranged performance fuels the production's electric energy.

As Beale becomes the "Prophet of the Airwaves" clad in a glowing white–dare I say "messianic"?–suit (costume designer is Erin Reed Carter), he is constantly the center of attention, even amid a cast of 16 versatile actors who respond to his call to share their own anger at the state of the world. When Beale turns his demand for rebellion to the viewing response across the United States, the response is immediate. It even extends to the theater, where everyone joins in!

As Diana Christensen, Hayley Guthrie is the immoral TV siren executive who rapidly and opportunistically grasps the media attraction of Beale's on-air meltdown. Her scenes with Barry Mulholland as Beale's longtime friend Max Schumacher, head of news for UBS, who repeatedly tries and fails to rein in the madness, are both comic and chillingly real. Mulholland nicely handles Schumacher's conflicted position at both personal and professional levels. Connan Morrissey has a heartrending scene as Schumacher's devoted wife Louise, shocked and grieving at his marital infidelity.

Brent Vimtrup as network executive Frank Hackett has several moments of antic celebration followed by fuming frustration as the ebb and flow of Beale's on-air dementia buffets the network's rise and fall. Cary Davenport plays Hackett's understated toady who epitomizes the unprincipled reactions of UBS's higher-ups.

Hall's script assigns several long speeches to Mr. Jensen, the godlike head of UBS in his "Valhalla" corporate office, who ultimately chastises both Beale and Christiansen for the chaos they have wrought. He speaks menacingly via video, of course. Cincy Shakes has pulled off a major casting coup with this element of the show, but I won't spoil it by revealing anything further.

The core message of the 1976 film was a harsh warning about how television bypasses human emotion, abandons truth for profit, and diminishes cultural identities by forcing soulless globalization. Although that was a half-century ago, long before 24/7 cable news coverage, internet doom-scrolling, and social media algorithms, the film anticipated today's familiar landscape. It's why this new theatrical adaptation–which debuted in London in 2017 and transferred to Broadway in 2018, where it received five Tony nominations–is chillingly relevant in 2026.

Today's cable news channels provide sensational coverage driven by ratings and personalities rather than journalistic standards and unbiased reporting. Contemporary politicians issue polarizing and often false messages if not outright lies. Serious investigative journalism has been largely abandoned, replaced by reality television that attracts viewers who fail to question the veracity of news stories. Howard Beale's employment of angry, unfocused messages–"I'm mad as hell"–sounds painfully familiar when compared to contemporary, often lurid claims about illegal immigrants, as well as denials of climate change and the necessity of vaccines.

Cincy Shakespeare Company's production is a dire warning to wake up and pursue the truth, no matter how painfully challenging such an effort might be. That's a classic message.

Network runs through September 26, 2026, at Cincinnati Shakespeare Company, 1195 Elm Street, Cincinnati OH. For tickets and information, please visit cincyshakes.com or call 513-381-2273.