Anatoly Smeliansky has told a tale of creative spirit surviving in an intellectual Gulag. The struggle of art, theater, and creativity to have life rivals the other world tenacity of tube worms living at volcanic ports on the ocean floor. The remarkable achievement of Russian theatre to provide intellectual nourishment to a nation, and its course of evolution during the decline and fall of Soviet Communism shines a light upon the individual's drive to be unique in an environment too often demonized in American portrayals. The theatrical stories involve names of actors, directors, and writers, mostly unknown to me, but as the story played on, in three acts, Dr. Smeliansky made them come alive. Their triumphs, failures and leaps are given a marquee exhibition in a history unvarnished . Wrapped in drama , this insider's slalom and struggle through politicians, censors, bureaucrats, and quislings plays out in as Russian a presentation as could be imagined, with hundreds of characters, a palate of hues and a landscape as small as a theater and vast as Russia herself.