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March 30, 2001

When Tom Stoppard goes to hell, you can bet it won’t be fire and brimstone waiting below. The Hades that’s conjured in the shimmering Lincoln Center production of Mr. Stoppard’s ”Invention of Love,” which opened last night at the Lyceum Theater, has the requisite Stygian gloom, all right. But what illuminates it isn’t infernal flame, but bright, lambent wit.

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