A stick-figure Shakespeare comic by Mya Lixian Gosling
Show me the bear.
I've seen three live productions of The Winter's Tale, two of which had a bear and a very low-budget one of which had Antigonus become the bear (think werewolf, but with bear). I've checked six filmed productions, only one of which had a bear. The others all cheated their way out of having an actual bear on stage. I will not stand for this butchering of Shakespeare's text.
This is it. This is my goofy little favorite Dream.
This is the 1968 Peter Hall/RSC production and it is a glorious mess. Technically it's a shambles: the audio and video quality are fairly atrocious. However, the performances are golden. Helen Mirren and Diana Rigg are probably my all-time favorite Hermia and Helena, and there is no scenery because Ian Holm has eaten it.
One of the most common complaints about the histories is that everyone has the same name and it’s hard to keep them all straight. Well you know what? It’s true! Everyone DOES have the same name and it IS hard to keep them all straight, and I AM HERE FOR IT.
The first time I heard this exchange I nearly lost my mind. It is such a hilarious encapsulation of the confusion and chaos of the Wars of the Roses. Now, after years of reading history books and seeing as many performances of the histories as possible, I can tell you exactly who all those Edwards and Richards and Henrys are, and how exactly they are all related to each other. I love them all.
They say you should never learn how the metaphorical sausage is made, but I do! I do want to learn how the sausage is made.
Sher's diaries are a great read, even if you don't love all of his performances (I was not blown away by his Falstaff or his Lear, to be perfectly honest). He was such a calculating, deliberate, and technically-minded actor, and it's fascinating to follow how he builds a character, line by line, and sometimes eyebrow by eyebrow. His diaries and his insights into himself and his craft are a gift to all self-respecting Shakespeare geeks.
A slightly obscure 30 Days of Shakespeare pick today, because for some reason Cymbeline is not performed particularly frequently. If you haven’t seen it, you’ll just have to take my word that this is one of the funniest lines in all of Shakespeare.
I’ve been fortunate enough to have seen Cymbeline live twice, and both times this line brought down the house. I can’t get enough of it.
Just thinking about today’s 30 Days of Shakespeare pick makes me giggle.
I think the only times I’ve been less than enchanted by any production of Pyramus & Thisbe is when they’ve tried to turn it into something besides a disastrous amateur dramatic performance. This is not the time to be using art to explore issues of class disparity in Tudor England. This is the time to laugh immoderately because Snug missed his cue, or Flute’s wig fell off, or Peter Quince had a nervous breakdown. Take your social commentary somewhere else, please, and just let me enjoy this ridiculous, stupid moment.
If you’re in the Ann Arbor area, stop by Booksweet bookshop at 1pm on April 23 to hear me do a Q&A on Shakespeare adaptations and other fun Shakespeare-related things! Because it’s Shakespeare’s birthday! Details here.
I love many things about Kenneth Branagh’s film adaptation of Henry V, so much so that I could have devoted an entire week to picking out moments from it that bring me joy. Instead, I decided to highlight one of the goofier things about it that delights me to no end.
Brian Blessed is the man they invented the phrase “an imposing physical presence” for. His embassy to the French court is a thing of wonder, with his armor-clad bulk busting into the soft and silken French court like a wrecking ball, and his measured voice threatening without ever raising in volume. He continues to be a solid, mostly silent presence, right up until the battle begins, when he becomes a one-man wrecking ball. I love this specific shot of him. It looks like he’s having the time of his life.
If you’re in the Ann Arbor area, stop by Booksweet bookshop at 1pm on April 23 to hear me do a Q&A on Shakespeare adaptations and other fun Shakespeare-related things! Because it’s Shakespeare’s birthday! Details here.
OK! Slight hiccup in my schedule, but let’s get back on track, starting with one of my favorite drama queens.
I love all of Richard’s self-indulgently melodramatic speeches. “For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.” “What must the king do now? Must he submit?” “Ay, no, no, ay, for I must nothing be.” They’re all pure theatrical gold, and that’s just scratching the surface. I could listen to Richard try to be the center of attention all day; he may be a megalomaniacal narcissist, but his language is absolutely golden.
