Apology (Annotated)

I’ll admit, I approached this expecting the usual starchy philosophy lecture. Instead, Preece’s performance turns *Apology* into something visceral. His Socrates isn’t a lofty sage but a man who *enjoys* the discomfort he causes—you can hear the smirk in his voice when he calls out his accusers’ hypocrisy. The pacing is deliberate, almost lazy at times, which somehow makes the moments of sharp rebuttal land harder. When Socrates compares himself to a gadfly stinging a lazy horse (Athens), Preece’s timing is perfect: a pause, then the sting. It’s the audio equivalent of a raised eyebrow. That said, the annotations are a double-edged sword. Some are brilliant—like the note tying Socrates’ ‘divine mission’ to modern whistleblowers—but others over-explain jokes that are funnier left ambiguous. And while Preece’s deadpan works for Socrates, his delivery of the jury’s reactions lacks the murky menace of a real mob. Still, the production’s minimalism (no music, no frills) forces you to grapple with the text raw. By the end, you’re not just listening to history; you’re in the jury box, squirming. If you’ve ever wondered what it sounds like when a man chooses principle over survival, this is it—flaws and all.