Luigi Mangione is accused of gunning down the CEO of UnitedHealthcare in broad daylight. A clean shot. No hesitation. Very soon, he'll sing about the brutal act in a San Francisco musical.

I say: Good.

“Luigi: The Musical” is absurd, possibly sociopathic — and yet somehow entirely defensible. In fact, in this grotesque, camp-addled culture of ours, it might be the most honest piece of art produced all year.

Not because murder is funny. Not because the justice system is a joke. But because we now live in an age where satire is the last viable truth-delivery system. Much of journalism is corporate. Novels are afraid. Late-night comedy is neutered. You want truth? Put it in a musical. Wrap it in sequins. And give it jazz hands.

Satire has always been the most ruthlessly efficient scalpel. Aristophanes mocked imperial war. Jonathan Swift proposed devouring Irish children. George Orwell, Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Vonnegut — they didn’t protest. They staged freak shows.

Molière shredded hypocrisy in powdered wigs. Charles Dickens dragged Victorian England through the gutter it tried to ignore. Joseph Heller turned bureaucratic madness into “Catch-22.”

Before his comedy went off a cliff, George Carlin stood on stage and tore down empire with a smirk. With “Four Lions,” a pitch-black comedy about........

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