Winter of Our Discontent
Yesterday, Mark and I went to see Richard III at the Shakespeare Theater. This was at least the fourth production of the play I've seen (not counting the play-within-a-movie of The Goodbye Girl, which saved my butt in a college class, when I hadn't done my reading.) As with all Shakespeare Theater shows, the production values were *incredible* - the set was grimy and dark and industrial and canted at a 30 degree angle that made my eyes question everything else that I saw onstage. The costumes were close-to-medieval - kirtles and furs that were intended to warm people in drafty castles and leather that was pretty close to a once-living animal.
Alas, the production itself was grim - long (3.25 hours), sometimes preachy, sometimes winding and political, very physically dark so that they eye had few things to relieve it. The actor playing Richard was an understudy (as was the actor playing Edward IV), resulting in a cascade of cast replacements, so that a total of six roles were changed. I was actually pretty impressed that *any* understudy could master all of the lines and all of the blocking - Richard is in the vast majority of the scenes. This understudy did a great job - he stumbled over a couple of lines, but recovered, and in character.
Oh - and he looked like Hugh Laurie. A *lot* like Hugh Laurie. Enough that three out of five of our party remarked on it first thing, and the other two don't watch House. So, even if he'd flubbed every line, I would not have been completely discontent :-)
This morning, Mark (my home clipping service) read to me an article in the New York Times about all the outcry and hoopla that this year's Newbery Award winner has the word SCROTUM on the first page. I was going to write a brilliant little essay about how absurd the entire discussion is, and I was going to explain that most librarians are in the business of expanding kids' minds, rather than contracting them. But then, Naomi Kritzer wrote the essay for me. I can't add to anything she said, so I'll just advise you to read her words.
Discontent, indeed.
Mindy, watching the sky go from flurries to sunshine, repeatedly
Alas, the production itself was grim - long (3.25 hours), sometimes preachy, sometimes winding and political, very physically dark so that they eye had few things to relieve it. The actor playing Richard was an understudy (as was the actor playing Edward IV), resulting in a cascade of cast replacements, so that a total of six roles were changed. I was actually pretty impressed that *any* understudy could master all of the lines and all of the blocking - Richard is in the vast majority of the scenes. This understudy did a great job - he stumbled over a couple of lines, but recovered, and in character.
Oh - and he looked like Hugh Laurie. A *lot* like Hugh Laurie. Enough that three out of five of our party remarked on it first thing, and the other two don't watch House. So, even if he'd flubbed every line, I would not have been completely discontent :-)
This morning, Mark (my home clipping service) read to me an article in the New York Times about all the outcry and hoopla that this year's Newbery Award winner has the word SCROTUM on the first page. I was going to write a brilliant little essay about how absurd the entire discussion is, and I was going to explain that most librarians are in the business of expanding kids' minds, rather than contracting them. But then, Naomi Kritzer wrote the essay for me. I can't add to anything she said, so I'll just advise you to read her words.
Discontent, indeed.
Mindy, watching the sky go from flurries to sunshine, repeatedly
(And yes, I agree that we're approaching Victorian absurdity at this point...)
Sometimes, I wonder why *words* are so frightening to so many people! (Not all the time - I certainly understand that words *can* be scary, but there are some very easily scared/upset people out there, and their power should be broken!)
Sigh...
Several years ago, I was the stage manager of a local Picnic. We constantly had three cast members not show up for rehearsals. I knew not only most of the lines, but also most of the blocking of all three parts, because the Director would substitute me for those positions just so we could accomplish a decent rehearsal -- plus it's the job of the Stage Manager to know where people are supposed to be anyway.
For that production, because the person cast as Millie had spaced so often on rehearsals, I was cast in her part a week before curtain. So essentially, I simply had to put the polish on the lines I already knew by that time to make certain everything was good to go by the time curtain rose.
It was an interesting experience... but... I would prefer not to have to remember an 80 page play, all the lines, blocking and nuances of the actors the week before curtain again (even if most of it was just polish and I knew half of it all by that time!)
No no. I'd prefer to be on stage from the beginning :P
I'm glad to hear that the play went mostly well! Oh, how I miss theatre!
I worked on college productions - and while we designated understudies occasionally, they were never really expected to learn the roles well enough that they could have gone on!
(Anonymous)
The lead was very, very good -- "WTF is he doing in St. Louis?" good -- which alas did not help with putting the rest of the cast in a good light (although he did not mean to outshine them; was very generous to them when onstage.) The woman who played Anne was far outclassed, and she really needed to not be, because we could not understand why she gave over to Richard.
But OMG, the snark and venom that man put into the opening speech was astounding, amazing, fantastic! I practically had acid burns in my clothing. (grin)
Snark, though? Venom? What better reason to go see a play? :-)