Shakespeare and me(me)

[carbonel]

rachelmanija challenged her readers to discuss the productions we've seen. I replied there, but after most of the discussion had fizzled, and I'm posting it again here.

It wasn't part of the original remit, but as long as I'm doing the work of writing this all up, I'm going to include the movie versions I've seen as well, so I have a record. I have a copy of the complete BBC Shakespeare series, but so far I haven't made much progress in working through these. Too little time, too many things to watch.

Once upon a time (mostly in the 1990s), there was a local bunch of fans that had a play-reading group that took parts and read a play once a month. We started out with Shakespeare, but ended up with others as well. We did go through all of the canonical plays. After John M. Ford moved to Minneapolis, he joined the group and added immensely to the level of reading quality. So even though I haven't seen all the plays, I have been exposed to the text of all of them in a semi-dramatic setting. And, alas, promptly forgotten a number of them.

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As You Like It: I've watched the Japanese-themed Kenneth Branagh version of this one. It's a terrible mish-mash of Japanese culture and settings shoved into English mores -- but that sort of thing is true of much of Shakespeare.

The Comedy of Errors: I've seen a live production of The Boys from Syracuse, which I didn't particularly enjoy. I have a vague memory that it was a school project, and we also watched ACoE, but I can't attest to that.

Hamlet: I'm not sure I've ever seen a live performance of this. The closest I've come was the BBC recording of the Derek Jacobi/Patrick Stewart version, which I saw on public televison in my teens (at least, that's how my memory goes; the DVD dates from 1980, but perhaps the TV version was earlier). But the play-reading group did it several times, and there was a period where I rented a bunch of different versions from Netflix. I've seen the uncut Branagh version twice -- once in an actual movie theater (I don't go to many movies, so this is notable) and more recently at home. I also saw the Mel Gibson version in a movie theater. Bleah -- no scenery left unchomped. It did have a sterling supporting cast, though. I saw the Olivier version as part of my 4-star movie- watching project. That may have been the most romantic Hamlet I remember. I watched the David Tennant/Patrick Stewart version, and remember it as solid but not much stood out for me. The Ethan Hawke version was surprisingly good, though that may be because I had zero expectations for it. I saw the very slashy one with Martin Shaw on a terrible video copy. As Pamela says, it was cut to the bone, but it was quite well done for being a shoestring production.

Henry IV: Some time ago (the 1990s?) the Guthrie did a connected version of Richard II, Henry IV (both parts combined), and Henry V, in which the actors played the same parts throughout, though the costuming was modern in the last one. I don't remember the name of the actor who played Prince Hal/Henry V, but he was stellar in both roles -- and had the most amazing thigh-high boots as Prince Hal. Yum. (I'm not normally shallow that way, but I made an exception that time.) I never got to the marathon three- plays-in-a-day performances, but I saw all three of them at least twice and possibly three times. Henry IV part I was also the first complete Shakespeare play I read in school; it was either in 8th grade or freshman English. I didn't think much of it then, but it improved later.

Henry V: The Guthrie production, two or three times. This one was in modern dress. The horses in the battle scenes were two-wheel carts, and the tennis balls were modern sproingy ones that were allowed to bounce all over the place. It was great. But the 1989 Kenneth Branagh movie was the one I really imprinted on. I've seen that one at least five times. It's still my favorite of the history plays. I also saw the much-cut Olivier version, with all its resonances to WWII, as part of my 4-star movie project.

Henry VI: Only in the play-reading group. It's all Neil Gaiman's fault that we were unable to get past the "bad revolting stars" like without snickering.

Julius Caesar: I'm pretty sure I saw a London production of this during one of my trips to England, possibly at the Barbican. Don't remember much about it, though. We read this in school, I think in freshman English. I do wonder why they were so heavy on the history plans early on.

King Lear: Okay, this one I have very vivid memories of. I was in London for business some number of years ago, and saw a production at the Globe, as a groundling. I had possibly the best location -- can't say "seat" -- in the house, standing right in front of the stage. It rained through most of the production, but I had a good poncho and was reasonably comfortable, though my feet did get tired. It was amazing. I especially remember what a fine job the Fool did. I believe it was also Lear that Pamela and I watched (at the Barbican?) after having survived a sudden rainstorm to get our seats. I sent Pamela to stand under a tree while I waited in line, but the generous impulse backfired: someone offered to share an umbrella with me, so I was only damp, but she got soaked under her insufficient tree.

Macbeth: We had a class trip to see the exceedingly gory 1971 Roman Polanski version. The phrase “filmed in living gore” was often used to describe it. I think I watched a DVD version of that much later just to see the Martin Shaw parts. The movie poster (and DVD cover) always made me want to lecture someone about knife safety. The Merchant of Venice: I saw a modern-dress version of this at the behest of Eileen Lufkin, who organized the expedition. It was at a local theater, and the thing I remember best was the opening, where all the characters are talking on their cell phones, spreading the news of the Rialto. It know it is "of its time," but there is so much I hate about the antisemitism of this play that I really can't be objective about it.

The Merry Wives of Windsor: I've never seen a theatrical version of it, but I did see the opera Falstaff at the Lyric Opera in Chicago. One of the very few operas I've seen that didn't have a pile of bodies at the end.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: There was a production at the Guthrie that went way overboard with decorating the stage and the entire theater as a glorious colorful fantasy forest. I went to see that one at least twice, possibly three times. This was also the one that had the rude mechanicals as classic outstate Minnesotans, ala Fargo. I loved that production for the visuals and the acting. Years later, there was another production of the same play at the Guthrie, and I just couldn't warm to it the same way, even though it was perfectly competent.

Much Ado about Nothing: Irrelevant bit of personal trivia: for years, I could not hold the title of this play in my brain -- I'd have to refer to it as "the Beatrice and Benedick one." I'd look it up or someone would remind me, and then it would fizzle away. And then I encountered a parody mashup (which might have involved Star Trek as well) entitled "Mik Ado about Nothing," and that I could remember. Problem solved. Anyway, I have seen at least one live performance of it, but I don't remember where (or much else about it). I've seen both the Kenneth Branagh and Joss Whedon film versions. The former was more standard (and quite enjoyable, except for Michael Keaton), although I wanted to shoot Robert Sean Leonard (which I suppose is a mark of how well he played the part); but the Whedon one was fascinating for the ways it played against standard. (Good grief -- Netflix says that was made in 2012. I would have said 2015 or 2016 if forced to guess. Time keeps a-slipping.)

Othello: I've seen the opera Otello, but no actual theatrical performances of the play. I did watch the Olivier film version as part of my 4-star movie project, but there was much eye-rolling on my part -- not just for the blackface but also for the made-up accent. Pericles: The main takeaway from our play-reading group was the line about not believing the lost girl is alive (paraphrased): "She has to be dead; I threw her overboard with my own hands!"

Richard II: As mentioned above, I saw this several times at the Guthrie as one of the history plays trilogy. The actor playing Richard was stupendous, and I cried every time, even though I know the play was kinder to him than history showed he deserved.

Richard III: Never seen a live version, but I've watched the Ian McKellan film version. (I missed the live version of that when it came to Minneapolis.) That's an amazing job of making an alternate universe story out of the fixed text.

Romeo and Juliet: I was thirteen years old when the Franco Zeffirelli movie came out, and we went to see it as a school expedition. The teachers repeatedly pointed out that Juliet was the same age we were. I'm not sure if this was a suggestion that we should act as mature as her or that a warning not to behave so dramatically. But that movie was everywhere that year. Posters, people quoting, discussions about whether it was appropriate for preteens (because of mild nudity), and that theme, which you couldn't escape. I learned how to play it on the piano, and did so until my parents begged me to desist. I saw it again years later when it was on TV, and it was still beautiful, but didn't have the same effect. I think I saw a local theater live version of it, but don't remember specifics.

The Tempest: Last month, I watched the Julie Taymor film where Helen Mirren plays Prospera, so it's still fresh in my mind. The staging on this is fantastic, especially considering that it was a comparatively low-budget production. It got mixed reviews, but I thought it was an impressive and well-acted version. On a friend's recommendation, I've acquired a copy of Prospero's Books (which is Tempest-adjacent), but I haven't watched it yet.

Twelfth Night: I saw a theatrical version of this in Chicago, possibly at the Goodman Theater. There was a very good Malvolio, played more as clueless than conniving. This is also one that our play-reading group did quite often; someone often suggested it as the December play, and it broke down well into parts for our group.

The Winter's Tale: I had not been terribly impressed when our play-reading group did this, but then I saw a production at the Guthrie that blew me away. I don't remember the name of the woman who played Hermione, but she was what made it memorable for me. It was a black actress, which was never mentioned in the script, but the sidelong glances and alienation as she was accused of infidelity added such depth.