Winter's Tale

At the end of November I watched at the movies Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale simulcast from London, starring Judi Dench.

This resulted in an argument with a friend, who admittedly spends a lot more time with Shakespeare than I do.  I said Judi brought a statue back to life of the long dead queen for the happy ending.  I liked this idea because it reminded me of Pygmalion.

Friend said that the queen was only pretending to be dead.  I thought about this and decided that Judi tells the king that he should let her suggest someone he could marry.  This could mean she knows the queen is still alive.

She looked like a real statue who hadn't aged a day, so the argument could go either way.

Cumberbatch Hamlet

It was fun to see Hamlet simulcast from the Barbican in London.  This is the version starring Benedict Cumberbatch.  It was very much like a modern opera production with contemporary clothing and furniture.  At one point Hamlet wears a Bowie t-shirt.  When Hamlet is speaking only to us, the other actors freeze in place while Hamlet speaks.

The strongest feature of this production is the intense energy of Benedict Cumberbatch.  He is on stage for the whole first half.  The other actors displayed a wide variety of accents, something I have not experienced for Shakespeare.  Stage English is the standard.  Did this intend to illustrate class in the characters, or was it just a coincidence?

It starts with chandeliers and celebrations and moves through madness and accidental murder to a scene of utter devastation and ruin with dead bodies strewn about the stage.

One of my favorite bits:  Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern are standing with the queen and king.  King says to left person, Goodbye Rosenkrantz and then to right person, Goodbye Guildenstern.  Queen then comes up to these same two guys and says to the left person, Goodbye Guildenstern, and then to the right person, Goodbye Rosenkrantz.  When was Hamlet supposed to be funny?

It was fast paced and enjoyable.

Miser

While in the San Francisco Bay Area I went to see a performance of Moliere's The Miser at Berkeley Rep. When I'm trying to describe something, I usually say "it's like this only this is different." It wasn't like anything. There was a stage and seats and sets and lighting and costumes. That much was the same.

The performance began with a sheet of translucent plastic covering the stage, and the acting went on behind it. I speculated what it would be like if the whole play was like that, but soon the plastic was removed. The house is collapsing, plaster is falling and the roof leaks very badly. Everyone wears rags, including strangers who arrive from elsewhere. We weren't clear about that part.

It was played with very broad, extremely physical slapstick. I was trying to imagine the auditions for this production. People would read lines and then they would do an extra audition for the slapstick.

Both the miser and his son wish to marry the same young woman. There is a marriage broker with a fondness for true love. And there is a happy ending.

Stephen Epp played the miser himself. Perhaps it is possible to be too cheap, but we may all comfort ourselves in the knowledge that we are not this cheap.

Sarah Agnew as Elise was like gossamer.

David Raimey as Master Jacques was simplly unbelievable--bizarre and mysterious.

There was an atmosphere of overwhelming madness beyond anything I have ever seen on the stage. It was fabulously creative and deeply satisfying, worthy of a Johnny Depp movie. I wasn't going to write about it, and perhaps I still haven't.

Hay Fever

I had the opportunity to see Judi Dench on stage in Noel Coward's Hay Fever at the Haymarket at the height of the hay fever season, and I took it. Dame Judi has a fertile theatrical imagination. I have only seen her on TV and in the movies and was unprepared for the sheer physicality of her performance. She also sat down at the piano and sang a decent rendition of "Plaisir d'amour," one of the great songs on the pleasures of love. (How did Yvonne Kenny miss that one?) While in her seventies Judi successfully played someone of about 45. She skipped, she danced, she swayed, she sang. She was a delight.

Virginia Woolf

I only know Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf as Elizabeth Burton and Richard Taylor, a bonnie couple to be sure, but nothing at all like George and Martha. Kathleen Turner slips into Martha like a pair of well-worn shoes. She drinks and smokes and struts and swears like that was her normal life. Who knows? I did think her outfits were a little schlampig, though.

I missed only the Bette Davis imitation. Martha steps into the living room and says “What a dump!” Elizabeth gave her finest Bette Davis imitation in reading this line, but Kathleen knows she can’t do one. From the internet (don’t we love the internet, those of us who can’t remember a thing):

Bette Davis
"What a dump!" ("What's it from, George?") The film Chicago (1946), of course, unfortunately long out of print.

In case you were wondering.

Bill Irwin plays George, and he makes a very convincing college professor.

[Schlampig. German for sloppily dressed. It doesn't precisely translate.]