Showing posts with label Shakespeare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shakespeare. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Accessibility in Shakespeare

How hard was it for you or perhaps many of your high school friends to get into Shakespeare? 

The language, of course, is the first barrier to entry. High school kids in particular are often not ready to invest the time in getting to know Elizabethan English in order to get to the story. But there are plenty of other challenges in a Shakespeare play that can make it inaccessible or unrelatable to a modern audience. 

Sure, many would argue that Shakespeare's themes are "universal,": love, unrequited love, love triangles, jealousy, greed, etc. But it's the way in which these themes are rendered that can either cause an audience to "get it" and love it, or dismiss it. 

There are also many "scenes" that take place off stage, and a character rushes into the scene to update us on what's been going on. For instance, one of my greatest struggles is Lady Macbeth's decline. She disappears for quite a while and comes back demented, obsessing over the blood on her hands, when scenes before she was manipulative and fueled by greed. 

There are many more scenes that may be unrelatable to a modern audience with modern tastes. There are scenes that we now want and need to see displayed before us in order to continue suspending disbelief. 

One of the key elements about Theatrum Elysium's production that I think addresses the issue of relatability quite well is the dancing. The dancing fills in the gaps and provides us with the much needed bits of character development that a modern audience needs in order to believe the character, to feel their happiness and their sorrow. 

In ANW's Cymbeline, Imogen and Posthumous are separated from each other so quickly that it's hard to me to understand that there was a connection before Posthumous gets banished. What Theatrum Elysium did beautifully was add a dance right before they're separated where Imogen and Posthumous are being forcibly removed from each other, and you can see their struggle to get back to one another - danced, of course, to a beautifully evocative song.

Throughout Theatrum's production, dances appear at integral moments that help us feel what the characters are feeling. I could write an entire post for each one of the dances, but probably the most important dance is the war dance. 

Right after our battle scene, in which Posthumous fights like a champion, we enter a scene in which Posthumous is surrounded by dead bodies: the ones he killed and the ones of his compatriots. The song playing in this war site is beautifully chosen, as it combines two extremely evocative songs: This Bitter Earth and On the Nature of Daylight.  Each blindfolded, nameless body rises in jolted movements, their limbs unable to extend in the graceful way they did when living. After heartbreaking twitches and struggles, each body lets go of a white handkerchief and falls to the grown again, lying still. 

Posthumous throws himself to the ground and tries to cover himself with dirt. This singular gesture, had it just been acted, would've potentially been hyperbolical and overly dramatic. But in the context of the song, of the dying bodies, this gesture of regretting his survival and wanting to be buried with the horrors of war moves every emotion I could be clinging to. It makes his despair in the subsequent scenes much more tangible, as I've lived through the horrors with him through the dance. 

This beautiful way of rendering emotions that are not written in Shakespeare's folios was unexpected and so moving that I regret seeing this production only twice. 


ANW's Cymbeline

How wonderful it is to get the opportunity to compare and contrast two different productions of the same play. 

I feel that this is one of the great benefits of Shakespeare's legacy: every new production I see (the good ones, at least) tell me something new about the play - even when it's a play I've studied ad nauseum and know intimately (see my thoughts on Macbeth). 

We actually saw Theatrum Elysium's Cymbeline precisely because we knew that A Noise Within was putting it on a month later. We couldn't let this chance for comparative theatre to pass us by. In fact, we've already secured tickets for a third Cymbeline production this year, which will take place in December at The Broad Stage. 

Having said that, I'm going to try my best to focus on ANW's Cymbeline independently from Theatrum Elysium's, leaving some of my comparative observations for a subsequent post. 

I got excited when I realized that Adam Hunter was going to be playing the parts of Posthumous and Cloten. I knew that he'd make a killer Cloten, having just seen him in Boston Court's The Government Inspector, where he played Khlestakov - a self-entitled, arrogant, self-interested, good-for-nothing, vice addicted son of someone of moderate importance. I was really intrigued to see how Hunter would play Cloten's foil, Posthumous, and I must admit that I enjoyed his lethargic portrayal of this banished, conflicted, credulous man. 

I also enjoyed the two boys, Cymbeline's abducted sons who have grown up as mountaineers. I buy the sibling rivalry, and their immaturity helps solve two main problems:


  1. They sell the idea that the boys would feel a kinship to Fidele upon first meeting him. The idea of kids making fast friends is readily acceptable.
  2. It explains why Guiderius somewhat hastily kills Cloten and then proceeds to cut off his head.
A weak point in this production, however, was Imogen. Now, I understand that because Cymbeline is a Romance, it most closely resembles a comedy, but her character wasn't believable in any way. For instance, during the final court scene with the Disney ending where all loose ends and neatly tied into a big bow of love, Posthumous wouldn't keep his eye off of Imogen, regardless of where she moved or who she interacted with. She, however, seemed to forget she was supposed to be tragically, painfully in love sometimes. She's too quick to accept the different solutions that come before her: too quick to accept the plan of being a boy, too quick to be with the mountaineers, too quick to leave with Caius Lucius. Not only did I not believe that she was hurting for her husband when she believes him dead, but her performance was outright laughable (literally: people cracked up) when she asks the corpse where his head is.

Regardless, I enjoyed the accessibility of ANW's Cymbeline. The pacing and the direction made it easy to follow this Shakespearean play, which can be challenging at times. 

Monday, August 27, 2012

Cymbeline

I recently watched a production of Shakespere's Cymbeline by Theatrum Elysium. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was the kind of production that only a young and enthusiastic theater group could put on. From the moment the play started we knew that it was going to be something else. There was no single stage because the staging took place all around a community center in La Crescenta. There was something so engaging about the changes in location and direction. The Narrator led us on a merry chase following the action and never getting too comfortable in our seats.
Without the luxury or restraint of an actual theater, Theatrum Elysium was freed to come up with a program that breaks the normal format.
In addition to the out-of-the-box staging, the play included elements of dance, singing, and swordplay that brought an intensity to the story that made it shine. Cymbeline is a long play and even when cut down to around 3 hours it can be difficult but with so much going on, the time just flew past. If I were to level any criticism, it would be at some of the scenes where characters accept things too readily or change their dearly held convictions so fast that you are forced out of your suspension of disbelief; but such is sometimes the struggle with Shakespere.
Overall I thoroughly enjoyed Theatrum Elysium's Cymbeline and am grateful that they are extending for four more performances so that I can go again!

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Theatrum Elysium's Cymbeline

Not gonna lie: in all my Shakespeare studies, I never came across Cymbeline. In college, I took pretty much every Shakespeare course I could find, and in my "Comedies and Romances" class, the only romances we covered were The Winter's Tale and The Tempest. 

So when Scooter told me he'd bought season tickets for us for A Noise Within, and the first play there were putting on was Cymbeline, I got excited. How wonderful to discover a new Shakesy play! But I think you can imagine my shock when John discovered through Facebook that another theatre ensemble was putting on the same play - a month earlier! 

Massive props go out to Scooter here, as he insisted that we go see it. Given that I'd never ever read Cymbeline, I wasn't too sure we'd want to see it twice, so I had some reservations ... which I immediately hushed. Why would I deprive myself from this phenomenal compare-and-contrast opportunity? 

Theatrum Elysium's Cymbeline BLEW MY MIND. 

The talent was amazing. The dancing was unexpected and beautiful (which is a huge compliment, since I'm used to watching spectacular dancing on So You Think You Can Dance), paired perfectly with the right songs. The lighting was a feat of wonder, as it was spot on - a challenging task given that we moved from one space to the next as nightfall began to take over. The staging was remarkable, too, using the narrator as our shepherd, leading us through all of these outdoor spaces. 

I was an experience unlike any other.

So I'll be excited to see how A Noise Within chooses to present this story to us.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Macbeth: Hurlyburlys cast

Antaeus does double casting for their plays, where they have two completely different casts for the same play - a notion I find fascinating.

I love watching understudy performances because it's so interesting to observe how different the play becomes when a different actor breathes life into the same character. It also reveals how many of their gestures and actions may have been suggested by the director or the playwright, and which are unique to the actor playing the role.

So double casting sounds like a fantastic idea, as it allows you to see two completely different plays.

The previous time I saw Macbeth, I saw the "Kinsmen" cast. I wish I would've seen the "Thanes" cast as well, but due to scheduling conflicts, we wound up seeing the "Hurlyburlys" cast, which combined both casts. So in a way, it felt more like I was watching an understudy performance instead of a different play altogether, given that many of favorite roles and characters were played by actors whose performances I had deeply enjoyed in my first viewing.

As a result, I found that I liked the Kinsmen performances more than the Thanes - save for Danny Blinkoff's portrayal of Macduff, and not just because I got to see this performance thanks to his generosity (yay for comp tickets!), but because I felt he added much more strength to the character. Blinkoff's age, build and physique present a better match to Macbeth as played by the very physical Bo Foxworth. Additionally, I felt his utter shock at hearing the news that his wife and children had been slaughtered, and the single, manly tear felt very real.

Alas, I won't be able to watch the Thanes performance, which is a shame, but next time I see something at Antaeus, I'll try to see both casts.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

ISC's A Midsummer Night's Dream

The Independent Shakespeare Company  (ISC) always puts on an entertaining performance. It's wonderful to go to Griffith Park and watch some Shakespeare while enjoying a picnic with your friends.

I particularly enjoy it when ISC does the comedies. We saw ISC's The Merry Wives of Windsor, Love's Labour's Lost, and Much Ado About Nothing last summer, and they're wonderfully over-the-top and represent exactly what Shakespeare would've wanted back in the day. I have to remind myself of this point because I have a preference for realistic theatre. Don't get me wrong - I love Wicked and plays like that, but as I mentioned in my first post, the plays that really move me are the ones that distrub me and make me think about the human condition and the psychology behind the twisted, illogical, or flat-out idiotic things we do. So when I watch a Shakesperian comedy, I have to remind myself about the original context, the Elizabethan audience, and how ISC aims to preserve that same kind of experience.

A Midsummer Night's Dream is my favorite Shakesperian comedy (Richard III is my favorite tragedy). So as is the case with Macbeth and other plays that I've studied deeply and extensively, I have certain expectations that I just can't seem to shed. My favorite performance of Midsummer is, by far, the 1999 Michael Hoffmann movie, so it inevitably serves as my barometer for all Midsummer performances. I love how he dealt with the Demetrius issue (i.e. how can you have a happy ending when he's under a spell?), how he made Bottom a character with depth, and how he had Sam Rockwell give a real performance as Thisby. So every time I see Bottom being a buffoon, and Thisby an exagerrated Juliet, and the issue of Demetrius overlooked, I have to remind myself that that is what the original intent was and learn to enjoy it and see the humor in the overacted performance.

Besides, Midsummer is just so good that I love it every time.

A2's Shakespeare's King Phycus

If you've never heard of a Shakespeare play called King Phycus that's because no such play exists ... at least not by The Bard. Tom Willmorth's Shakespeare's King Phycus is based on the premise that a never-before-heard-of Shakespeare play surfaces from the depths of history.

At least that's all I knew before I went to see The Antaeus Company's A2 Ensemble performance.
What I didn't know is that it was going to be a parody of Shakespeare's most well-known tragedies, though it became very evident when the play opens and the actor's mock the brilliant opening of Antaeus's Macbeth. Having seen that play, it took about two seconds into the play for the laughter to begin. Right after, though, when the players began to through food - and the baby - around, I thought this was going to be a funny parody. What I didn't expect was for it be extremely smart and clever.

Apparently, King Phycus is actually a longer play with an intermission, but A2 cut it down to 70 minutes. I'm not sure if they did what the movie industry does with trailers, where you pick the absolute best bits and cram them into a couple of minutes, but the resulting 70 minutes left my jaw muscles aching. I couldn't stop laughing and smiling the entire time. There were moments when the lines were just so witty and so perfectly delivered that I couldn't even laugh because I was just basking in awe of what had happened before me. Of course, it has extremely silly moments, too, but it's just so darn clever!

If you're familiar with Macbeth, Julius Caesar, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, King Lear, and Richard III, you'll love this play.

We're gonna go see it again next week :)

Antaeus's Macbeth

Wow, was I surprised with Antaeus's Macbeth! Jessica Kubzansky, who I know as Boston Court's Co-Artistic Director, really hit it out of the park.

I've seen Kubzansky's work before, not just at Boston Court (where I saw her plays, The Children, Futura and Camino Real), but also at other theatres (like when we saw her rendition of Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale in Ojai). But this is my favorite of hers.

When you go see a classic such as "The Scottish Play" (*insert eye roll at ridiculous superstition*), there's a lot of baggage and expectation that goes with it - especially when you pride yourself as a Shakespeare scholar and have read, seen, and analyzed the play and its various movie or live performances. If you've formulated a POV on certain things, like the play's mysteries or controversies, you inevitably want to see how the play will tackle those challenges and what risks the director will take.

And I was pleasantly surprised.

If there's anything in this performance that I wasn't a fan of, it was the extra long procession at the beginning - but only because it was a little too long. What procession? you might ask, if you're familiar with the play. The play begins with the Three Witches. Kubzansky, in what I think is a bold move, opens the play with Macbeth and Lady Macbeth mourning the death of their baby.

Kubzansky tackles one of the play's greatest mysteries head on. Macbeth and his never talk about children - living or dead - except for Lady Macbeth's line in act I, scene vii, when she says to Macbeth, "I have given suck, and know/How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me" (I, vii, ll.54-55). Not knowing what to do with this line, other directors just plainly overlook this matter, but Kubzansky gives this weight, opening with the baby's funeral. Throughout the rest of the play, Macbeth and his wife keep harkening back to the baby's death, and it adds so much more weight and depth to the killer couple's motivations and lunacy.

And it only goes uphill from there with masterful performances. Wonderful. Just wonderful.