Shakespeare References in Determinism And Freedom In The Age Of Modern Science

This book, which was edited by Sidney Hook, features the thoughts of several philosophers and teachers on the subject of determinism. And it includes a couple of Shakespeare references. The first comes in the book’s first chapter, “The Case For Determinism,” written by Brand Blanshard. Blanshard writes, “‘The quarto and folio editions of mankind’ can follow the argument with fewer lapses than most of us; in the texts of the greatest of all dramas, we are told, there was seldom a blot or erasure; but Ben Jonson added, and no doubt rightly, that there ought to have been a thousand” (p. 28). Here Blanshard refers to Shakespeare’s works, and also to Ben Jonson’s famous line, regarding the idea that Shakespeare never blotted out a line: “Would he had blotted a thousand.” Then John Hospers in “What Means This Freedom?” refers to Hamlet. Hospers writes: “Premeditation, especially when it is so exaggerated as to issue in no action at all, can be the result of neurotic disturbance or what we sometimes call an emotional ‘block,’ which the person inherits from long-past situations. In Hamlet’s revenge on his uncle (I use this example because it is familiar to all of us), there was no lack, but rather a surfeit, of premeditation; his actions were so exquisitely premeditated as to make Freud and Dr. Ernest James look more closely to find out what lay behind them. The very premeditation camouflaged unconscious motives of which Hamlet himself was not aware. I think this is an important point, since it seems that the courts often assume that premeditation is a criterion of responsibility. If failure to kill his uncle had been considered a crime, every court in the land would have convicted Hamlet” (p. 128). Then, a bit later, Hospers writes: “The reasons may be rationalizations camouflaging unconscious motives of which the agent knows nothing. Hamlet gave many reasons for not doing what he felt it was his duty to do: the time was not right, his uncle’s soul might go to heaven, etc. His various ‘reasons’ contradicted one another, and if an overpowering compulsion had not been present, the highly intellectual Hamlet would not have been taken in for a moment by these rationalizations. The real reason, the Oedipal conflict that made his uncle’s crime the accomplishment of his own deepest desire, binding their fates into one and paralyzing him into inaction, was unconscious and of course unknown to him” (p. 129).

Determinism And Freedom In The Age Of Modern Science was published in 1958. The First Collier Books Edition was published in 1961.

King Lear (The Southern California Shakespeare Festival 2021 Online Production) Theatre Review

King Lear is arguably Shakespeare’s greatest play, presenting compelling characters, tackling important universal themes and confronting us with some of our deepest fears. When done well, King Lear never fails to move its audience, and the troupe making up The Southern California Shakespeare Festival does it well. For its seventeenth season, The Southern California Shakespeare Festival presents King Lear in an online production (because the pandemic is not yet a thing of the past). It is a modern dress production, which works to eliminate the distance that sometimes creeps in between an audience and a play when looking into the past. This is a Lear for right now, when families are fractured, deceit reigns, cruelty abounds, and we question our own reality and whether the gods even care.

During the opening conversation between Gloucester (Sam Robinson) and Kent (Samantha Kernaghan), we see Edmund (Christopher Martin), who looks up on Gloucester’s “This young fellow’s mother could,” indicating that he has heard their talk. We feel for Edmund in that moment, though he has something of a dark countenance from the beginning. As Lear (Matthew Reidy) enters to fanfare, he takes Cordelia (Renee Turner) by the hand and gives her a little kiss, showing from the start how she is favored among the three daughters. Cordelia is even given a central spot, positioned between Goneril (Linda Bisesti) and Regan (Kathleen S. Dunn), who of course can’t fail to notice that. As Lear speaks of Burgundy and France, the camera shows us Cordelia, and there is a sweet innocence about her. Lear applauds both Goneril and Regan after their speeches in which they profess their love for him. It is interesting, because of course these are performances worth applauding, performances insisted upon by Lear himself, and perhaps – at least for the moment – he is aware that these are simply performances. Cordelia’s asides during their speeches are cut.

Kent being female in this production gives a different feel to the line “Lov’d as my father,” since we’ve just heard from Lear’s actual daughters regarding their love for him. It puts Kent more in line with those daughters, which is a bit strange. Also, Cordelia is the woman who stands up to Lear in this moment, so Kent’s being female, in a way, makes it seem like she outdoes Cordelia. That being said, Samantha Kernaghan gives a strong performance, in this scene and throughout the production. When France (Brandon Sy) tells Cordelia, “Bid farewell to your sisters,” he kind of spits out the word “sisters” as if he has no respect for them. It is a somewhat odd choice, as he wasn’t present for their performances, their proclamations of love, and so his scorn seems to come from nowhere. Linda Bisesti and Kathleen S. Dunn deliver tremendous performances as Goneril and Regan respectively, and what’s more, they are completely believable as sisters, which is clear when they stand together as Cordelia addresses them. The moment with Goneril and Regan together after Cordelia has exited is excellent. The camera is close on them, almost like we in the audience are part of their small confederacy. What is particularly wonderful is that as the camera pulls back, we see that they’ve been holding hands. And as the scene ends, they let go of each other and take the arms of their husbands, showing that their allegiance to each other is something stronger, more natural, than that to their husbands. It is a brief moment that reveals a lot.

Edmund is rather creepy in his white gloves. He gives his “base” speech outward, but not directly to the camera. Gloucester’s lines regarding the letter are delivered in a rather jovial and playful mood, which is nice, giving him plenty of space to go once he reads it. At first he is incredulous. Oh, if only he remained so. On “brothers divide,” Gloucester gestures to Edmund. And on “the bond crack’d ‘twixt son and father,” he looks at Edmund as if perhaps deep down he knows the truth. Interestingly, after Gloucester exits, Edmund delivers his next speech directly to the camera, the “excellent foppery of the world” speech. At one moment, we see that his anger is about to get the best of him, and he has to work to control it, which is great. On “go arm’d,” Edmund hands Edgar (Richard H. Pluim) a knife. There are no swords in this production, and later Edmund uses a knife to wound his own arm.

When next we see Lear, he is dressed more casually, in a plaid shirt and a hat. Kent’s disguise is more extreme and believable than in many productions, for she disguises herself as a man. It works, though her answer to Lear, “A man, Sir,” has a different ring to it because of her gender. She carries a large walking stick, and uses it to trip Oswald (Cal Zwahlen). The Fool (Julian D. Carrasco) is in a suit, his coxcomb being a regular cap. There is nothing too outrageous about his appearance, except perhaps the polka dot tie he wears. But he gives a delightful performance, and the connection is strong between him and Lear. I love that in this scene Goneril seems to truly care about her father on the lines “and put away/These dispositions which of late transport you/From what you rightly are.” She seems disturbed by the man she sees in front of her, by his changes, as well as by the behavior of his men. After all, this is her father, the man she has likely looked up to all her life. Goneril is much more effective when not played as simply evil, as is sometimes done. It is when Lear curses her that she really begins to change, and we see that in her expression. After Lear sends Kent off with the letter, there is a great moment where Lear sits, looking weary and tired. The Fool sees this, and tries to cheer him. It is such a moving moment, especially coming after the previous scene in which Lear was losing his temper with Goneril. Matthew Reidy is fantastic here as Lear.

Rather than actual stocks, in this production a gunnysack is placed over Kent’s head, and her legs are tied. The sound of barking dogs is heard as Edgar is being pursued. While hiding, he delivers his “happy hollow” speech to the camera. Meanwhile, behind him the search continues, and it gets closer, until he is caught, something I don’t recall seeing in any other production. And it is in that moment that he calls out “Poor Tom!” And his captor moves on. It’s a fantastic and exciting moment. He then delivers his “Edgar I nothing am” line. Later, when Gloucester speaks with Edmund, the camera is placed behind various objects, enhancing the covert aspect of Gloucester’s speech.

As with Goneril, this production allows Regan moments where she truly seems to care for her father. Regan helps Lear up when she says “I am glad to see your Highness,” leading Lear to say “Regan, I think you are.” It’s heartbreaking, in part because we know what is to come, and in part because in that moment we see that what is to come is not necessary, that it could be avoided. The “take her by the hand” moment is even stronger because we saw Goneril and Regan take each other by the hand in the first scene. So this shows they are still of that mind. The scene where they discuss the numbers of Lear’s train is powerful and moving, with Lear, Goneril and Regan all giving excellent performances. Lear’s tirade leaves Regan in tears, a wonderful touch.

For the storm, a rain effect is employed. The trial of Goneril is cut. When Lear mentions dogs, Edgar barks, leading to Lear’s “they bark at me.” There is an ice pick on the floor, which Lear picks up, and, without knowing it, accidentally stabs the Fool, an interesting way to dispose of a character who disappears from the text after that scene. After “And I’ll go to bed at noon,” the Fool collapses on the ground and dies. The eye plucking scene manages to be shocking, in part because of the performances by Craig Damon as Cornwall and Kathleen S. Dunn as Regan, especially the twisted joy Regan takes in it. What is also wonderful here is that Regan and Cornwall are given a moment of intimacy before this scene, which almost feels like foreplay. There is something nearly sexual passing between those two in their moment of extreme violence, and with Regan, we get the sense that she is just now learning this about herself, and that from here on out, that will be a significant part of her character. It is riveting. She also takes such delight in revealing to Gloucester that Edmund is the one who betrayed him. She is wonderfully wicked here, and yet does care for her husband when she learns that he’s been wounded. Goneril flirts with Edmund in a fashion similar to how she earlier interacted with Oswald. And in fact her “wear this” refers to a ring she suddenly takes from Oswald and places on Edmund’s finger (over his white gloves), an excellent touch.

Richard H. Pluim shines as Edgar when he sees that his father is blind and lets go of his Poor Tom posture. It is incredibly touching when he takes Gloucester’s hand. Edgar leads him to a spot from which there is a drop of a few inches, so that when Gloucester tentatively reaches out with his foot, he finds only air and so believes he is at the cliff. How heartrending it is to pretend to lead one’s own father to his suicide. We feel for both Edgar and Gloucester here. But of course the most moving moments involve Lear’s reunion with Cordelia. Lear is dressed in a hospital gown, asleep in a wheel chair, when Cordelia sees him. His delivery of “You are a spirit, I know” is poignant. Because Kent is female in this production, Lear’s “and know this man” about Kent has a different sense than usual. For it shows that he doesn’t quite recognize her, at least not as Kent, though perhaps as the servant Kent has pretended to be. It feels like we lose something there, the possibility that he is coming back to his senses. However, Lear’s recognition of Cordelia is incredibly touching. Music is added to that moment, but it is not necessary; the performances do all the work here.

When Regan takes ill, Goneril says “If not, I ne’er trust the poison,” following the Quarto reading rather than the Folio’s “medicine,” which is usually used. Edgar wears a cap down to cover some of his face when he fights Edmund. Of course, having a portion of one’s face covered would make a duel all the more difficult. He then removes the cap before “My name is Edgar.” Albany’s “Great thing of us forgot!” is cut. Lear has Cordelia in a bed sheet, and pulls her in by the sheet rather than carrying her. On Lear’s “Do you see this,” a light shines on his face, and he looks up, nearly in ecstasy, seeing Cordelia before him. Perhaps she is an angel coming to lead him into an afterlife? Perhaps she is only in his mind, but the presence of the light seems to indicate that he really does see something. Kent and Edgar gently help him lie back as he continues to see Cordelia before him and passes in a state of joy. It is beautiful. Following the Folio, Edgar speaks the final words of the play rather than Albany, as in the Quarto. This is an absolutely captivating production of Shakespeare’s finest work.

This production of King Lear was directed by Baron Kelly, and is available to watch online through September 12th. It is free, but donations are encouraged. Visit The Southern California Shakespeare Festival website for more details, and to watch the production.

The Tempest (Independent Shakespeare Company’s 2021 Production) Theatre Review

The Independent Shakespeare Company is back in Griffith Park after a year without any performances, this time with a shortened season. While the company usually puts on two plays, this season they are performing just one, The Tempest, which is thought to be Shakespeare’s final play (or perhaps penultimate play, followed by Henry The Eighth). There is another difference this season, and that is the location, which is just a bit farther up the hill than usual, a more intimate space. This is because ground is being broken at the normal spot for a permanent theatre, which is excellent news for those of us who have been enjoying this company’s work. Also, because of the continuing pandemic, specific spots were mapped out for the audience this season, and reservations required, in order to ensure some distance between patrons. What has not changed is the high quality of this company’s work, nor that great sense of community that exists at their performances.

As the performance opens, there is the sound effect of a storm, and the entire stage becomes the boat. Prospero (David Melville) stands downstage center, and opens an umbrella, which signals the start of the storm, a wonderful touch. He then exits before the dialogue among the mariners. All the characters on stage shout “We split, we split,” and then it is if they have gone into the water, which we can see by their well-choreographed movements. By the way, this season the stage itself is split into three sections. There is a center section close to the audience, positioned over some rocks and a riverbed (though no water is running in it now), and behind it a section to the left and one to the right. Interestingly, those two sections give the feel of being backstage, as it seems the back of the flats are facing the audience. While the tempest has its way with those on the boat, Miranda (Carene Mekertichyan) watches through binoculars upstage right. This is a modern dress production. Prospero’s magic garment is nothing special to look at, and so when he first mentions his “magic garment,” the line gets a laugh. It also draws a greater distinction between him and the spirits of the island, showing that he is still an outsider to this place.

In the text, apart from the spirits in the pageant, Miranda is the only female character. In this production, Prospero’s brother Antonio becomes his sister Antonia (Carine Montbertrand), and the king’s brother Sebastian becomes his sister Sebastiane (also played by Carene Mekertichyan). It is interesting that the two murderous characters are women here. Also, a woman plays the character Adrian (that is Darian Ramirez). Having so many women of course gives Miranda fewer men to look upon before she delivers her famous “How many goodly creatures are there here” speech, which perhaps lessens the humor of it. We do have a male Ariel, however, which is a welcome change from most productions (the character is male in the text). Played by Paul Turbiak, Ariel has distinctive appearance, with a strip of blue across his eyes, and black feathers at his neck and shoulders. His voice, facial expressions and movements also set him apart from the other characters. The entire cast is excellent (which is the norm for this company), but Paul Turbiak gives a particularly remarkable performance. After Prospero tells him that his charge “exactly is perform’d,” Ariel starts to leave upstage. Then, as Prospero continues his speech, “but there’s more work,” Ariel’s expression and disposition change, as he is more concerned that Prospero will not free him as promised. Ariel makes us feel for him immediately, and he shows submission rather than anger in that early scene.

Also delivering a fantastic performance is Jose Acain as Caliban, who frightens Miranda upon his initial entrance (and might frighten some of the audience as well). There is a delightful wildness about him, and we see a constant inner struggle between what might be his natural inclinations and the deportment Prospero has taught him and expects of him. Like Ariel, Caliban has his own particular way of moving. He also has green makeup surrounding one eye, which helps to set him apart. Caliban gives a wicked and pleased laugh after Prospero mentions his attempted violation of Miranda. Before that moment, the audience can’t help but care for him. And even after that, it’s not long before we feel for him again.

Ariel, with the help of two other spirits, leads Ferdinand (Patrick Batiste) with a song. Ferdinand seems truly tormented by this song, particularly when it reminds him of his father, whom he presumes dead. It’s an excellent moment. Ferdinand is in modern clothes, but does have a sword. Xavi Moreno does a wonderful job as both Gonzalo and Trinculo, shining particularly as Trinculo, the performance having a delightful innocence. There is a lot of doubling of roles in this production, and Brent Charles plays both Alonso (the king) and Stephano. As with Moreno, Charles seems to have much more fun with the more comedic role, and the song he sings upon entering as Stephano received some applause from the crowd last night. It is not an easy thing to play drunk, and both Charles and Moreno do a good job of it. When Ariel helps Trinculo to stand, Trinculo of course shows some surprise, which is another nice moment. Ariel, by the way, does a great job of imitating Trinculo’s voice. Caliban uses his song about having a new master to engage Stephano and Trinculo, as well as the audience. And then later when the music frightens Trinculo and Stephano, Caliban smiles, taking great joy in the hearing of it. Regardless of how his attempted violation of Miranda may have made the audience feel, in this moment everyone has at least some fondness for the character.

The budding romance between Ferdinand and Miranda is absolutely adorable. When Miranda tells Ferdinand that her father is “hard at study,” we see Prospero standing in the near darkness off stage left. Miranda pouts a bit when Ferdinand mentions other women he has known, which is cute. When the others are searching for Ferdinand, Antonia and Sebastiane call out his name with an obvious lack of interest in finding him, which is funny. For the pageant scene, Prospero hits his stick against the floor, causing lights in the trees to illuminate. He also uses a soap bubble machine, which gets a laugh from the audience. David Melville always handles comedy well, but his greatest moments as Prospero are the more serious and even introspective moments. He does an excellent job with the famous speech after the pageant, in which he tells Miranda and Ferdinand “we are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.” And the later interactions with Ariel are perhaps the best moments in the entire production. Particularly moving is when Ariel tells him, “Mine would, sir, were I human.” Ariel is completely honest here, without that sense of manipulation, and that honesty is what works on Prospero, and it is then we get the first real sense of forgiveness. After Ariel exits, Prospero remains quiet for a moment, gathering himself, which is excellent. There is some sorrow in his delivery of “I’ll drown my book.”

As always, this company makes great use of the space. And having a different space this year seems to have lent itself to fueling their creativity and inventiveness. The dry riverbed is used often, with Prospero first going to it to fill a kettle. And Caliban makes a fantastic and dramatic entrance from underground. What the actors don’t do as much as usual is make entrances and exits through the audience. In previous seasons, actors would even sit with audience members on their blankets, delivering some of their lines from there. But obviously because of the pandemic, that is something that wouldn’t be as welcome. In fact, I believe there is only one exit through the audience, which draws all the more attention to it. That is by Ariel after he is finally freed, making that moment even more powerful and moving.

This production of The Tempest was directed by Melissa Chalsma, and runs through September 5th (only four more performances). There is a twenty-minute intermission, coming at the end of Act II. (Be sure to have a flashlight with you if you plan on visiting the bathrooms during intermission.) Visit the Independent Shakespeare Company’s official website for more information.

Caliban makes his entrance from here

 

Julius Caesar (Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum 2021 Production) Theatre Review

Production photo by Ian Flanders

Shakespeare is always relevant. His work has something to say about whatever situation we are currently experiencing. In the aftermath of the Trump administration, and particularly the January 6th insurrection, what has been coming to mind is the way the fickle crowd is easily swayed in Julius Caesar. From the opening scene, in which Marullus and Flavius berate people for casually switching their allegiance from Pompey to Caesar, to the famous scene where Brutus foolishly lets Antony speak after him and the crowd quickly moves from supporting the conspirators to wanting their blood, we see the way a crowd can be easily led and misled. That latter scene in particular came to mind as the country watched the events unfold on January 6th, especially as Republicans in that violent mob erected a gallows and chanted “Hang Mike Pence,” a person to whom they had been loyal only days before. In addition, there is the ongoing question about what to do with Trump himself, a man who is clearly at odds with the whole concept of democracy and who has authoritarian desires, also related to the character of Julius Caesar. The new production of Julius Caesar at Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum clearly has an eye on the current state of the world. In fact, before last night’s performance, the production’s director, Ellen Geer, and the cast spoke about the connections between this play and current events, and Geer said the play was chosen this season because “it reflects what’s going on in our country.” For this production, the role of the Soothsayer (who has but a few lines in the text) is expanded, and takes on the function of narrator, drawing the connection between the events of the play and our current times. If any character is going to do that, it makes sense for it to be the Soothsayer, the person who seems able to look into the future. This production also features a couple of well-choreographed battles scenes.

As the performance begins, the Soothsayer (Gerald Rivers), in his role as narrator, speaks about Shakespeare and society, and about a country’s disintegration. “We know what happens when we don’t get involved,” he says in this newly written speech, then adding that we also know what happens when we do. And speaking of getting involved, this production asks the audience to be a part of the performance rather than silent spectators. As the audience files into the theatre, each person is given a small sheet of paper with lines to shout out at specific times, lines such as “Traitors!” and “Caesar’s tongue outvenomed all the worms of Nile.” And not everyone is given the same lines. Essentially the audience members are asked to take the part of the crowd, which then should cause them to take a look at their own involvement or lack thereof in current events. It is an interesting choice, and some of the audience really got into the spirit of the thing. (There was at least one audience member who was confused about the timing, and shouted out his lines at the wrong moments, leading one member of the cast to gently guide him back onto the same page, which was interesting in itself.) Also, the line “Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?” in the opening scene is directed out at the audience, and there is a pause before the word “men,” so it becomes something of an insult, as if to say that we in the audience are less than men in their eyes.

Julius Caesar (Mark Lewis) and his entourage enter through the audience, which adds to the sense that the audience is involved in the action. The Soothsayer actually speaks his first line from a seat in the front row, and then is brought onto the stage to repeat his famous warning, “Beware the ides of March.” This production makes great use of the space, not just the stage, but the aisles through the audience and the woods behind and next to the stage, and when Brutus (Christopher W. Jones) and Cassius (Melora Marshall) first speak together downstage left, much of the rest of the cast is up in the woods behind the stage, while Caesar is on the roof of the structure upstage left. Those people remain frozen for much of the dialogue between Brutus and Cassius, occasionally calling “Hail Caesar,” to which Brutus and Cassius react. Cassius seems somewhat devious from the start, though Caesar is more frightening when he says of Cassius, “He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.” Yet a moment later you can’t help but agree with Caesar when he rebukes Cassius for not attending plays or listening to music. So even before Antony’s big speech, we in the audience feel our allegiance pulled between the two factions. And regarding another of our current troubles, Cassius’ line “But if you would consider the true cause/Why all these fires” certainly stands out (I heard some others in the audience react to it).

When Brutus delivers his “He would be crown’d speech,” he is on the platform downstage right, above much of the audience. So we look up to him, giving him an elevated position physically as well as morally. And that is where the conspirators gather as well, so at this point we side with them. Once the conspirators exit, we are treated to that intimate scene between Brutus and Portia (Willow Geer), which ends up being one of the most powerful scenes in the production, in large part because of the two excellent performances. It is interesting because it is more by her words than his that we get a glimpse of Brutus’ troubled mind. He lays his head on her lap before “O ye gods,/Render me worthy of this noble wife,” a tender and touching moment. And then with Caesar and Calpurnia (Cindy Kania-Guastaferro), we see both the similarities and differences in the two relationships. Caesar pokes a bit of fun at Calpurnia when he recounts his wife’s dream, belittling it to Marcellus (Max Lawrence), not Decius, as in the text (that character being cut in this production). And again, because of that treatment of his wife in front of another man, we side with Brutus here. Portia is also excellent in her scene with Lucius (played by understudy Joseph Bricker last night), when she is apprehensive and jittery, her nerves getting the better of her.

Julius Caesar is certainly arrogant, something that Donald Trump has in common with him. And in the moments before his murder when Caesar speaks of himself in the third person, we are reminded again of Trump. The killing is done in slow motion. When Brutus approaches Caesar, Caesar is shocked and sad, and we hear that in his delivery of that famous line “Et tu, Brute?” There is no anger there, and because of that, in that moment we feel for him. It is after Caesar says “Then fall, Caesar” that Brutus actually stabs him. It is an incredible moment, almost like Caesar is willing to die since even Brutus has turned on him, or that he knows he has no chance because of that. Mark Lewis is absolutely excellent here. And there is a wonderfully long pause after the murder, as the conspirators catch their breath, and the severity of their action sinks in. We in the audience need that moment too, especially as we feel that we have taken part in the killing, that we are complicit. Antony’s reaction to seeing Caesar’s body is poignant. Michael McFall gives one of the production’s best performances, showing both great strength and intelligence, while also in that moment when he first sees the body, allowing us to witness his despair. His delivery to Brutus of the line “That’s all I seek” is excellent, and when Antony is alone with the body of Julius Caesar, his demeanor and tone change completely, and we sense the explosion that is to come from within him. This production boasts a talented cast, without a single weak player, and even among such a strong company, Michael McFall stands out, especially during that well-known speech. I love his delivery of “You will compel me then to read the will?” He knows in that moment that he has the crowd (which is us), and he knows precisely what he can expect from them. And as he reads the will, he faces the audience, and we feel our allegiance shifting to him, just as the crowd’s loyalty becomes his. It is an excellent moment, and even those who have chosen not to shout out the lines they were given must feel they are taking an active part in the proceedings. The narrator steps in after that moment to describe how Rome is in chaos, with citizens choosing sides, something that, even with Trump out of office, is still true of our nation now.

One of the other really intriguing performances is that of Melora Marshall as Cassius. Her performance is multi-layered, showing us both the character’s intellect and his selfishness, his strengths and weaknesses. There are moments when we wonder if Cassius is being straightforward with Brutus or cunning, and if Cassius even recognizes the difference anymore. I particularly love the scene toward the end when Cassius feels he has lost Brutus’ respect and love. Melora Marshall’s delivery of “You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;/I said an elder soldier, not a better/Did I say, ‘better’?” is particularly good, packed with passion and even humor. When the ghost of Julius Caesar enters, it is to the right of the audience, with his face covered. Brutus is downstage right, so the audience is between Brutus and the ghost, which is interesting. For isn’t that where we’ve been placed from the beginning, as Roman citizens? When Cassius bids Pindarus (Nicolas Jordan) to kill him, Pindarus does not hesitate. That is in great contrast to the moment when Brutus similarly looks for help in committing suicide, and the first person he asks declines. In this production, it is Lucius, not Strato, who agrees to hold the sword for Brutus. As he holds it, he turns his head away from Brutus, looking out to the audience, again making us part of the action. The Soothsayer as narrator is given a final speech, once again connecting the play with the present. Though Gerald Rivers does a fine job here, as throughout the performance, this speech feels unnecessary, and it seems that it should be Shakespeare who has the last word.

This production of Julius Caesar is directed by Ellen Geer, and runs through October 30^th, in repertory with A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Visit the Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum website for the complete schedule. Because of the ongoing pandemic, the performance runs without an intermission, and is just under an hour and a half. Also, masks are required for all those in attendance, regardless of vaccination status.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum 2021 Production) Theatre Review

A Midsummer Night’s Dream is really the perfect play for the outdoor space at Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum. There is something magical about that theatre, the way it is built into the side of a hill, with the woods stretching off in various directions, from which actors can – and often do – make their entrances and take their exits. It is really one of the most wonderful places in Los Angeles, and it wouldn’t be a surprise to encounter actual fairies and sprites on the grounds. And, understanding that sense of magic, the troupe there regularly returns to A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It is one of two Shakespeare plays the company has chosen to perform this summer, after the pandemic forced the theatre to remain closed last season, and is a wonderful way to welcome folks back. We can all use a little magic in our lives these days.

This production, directed by Melora Marshall (who also plays Titania), adds more of a musical element, with certain lines and exchanges sung rather than spoken. It works with this play, because there is already that sense of the unreal inherent in the material. The company also exercises some restraint in this regard, and there is not an excessive amount of singing. As the play opens, Hippolyta (Oyemen Ehikhamhen) comes running onto the stage, heading straight downstage center, with Theseus (Jose Donado) following her, a nice way of illustrating the way in which she was wooed in the first place, and establishing the dynamic of that relationship. When Egeus (Tim Halligan) enters, he pulls Hermia (Julia Lisa) in with him. She ends up kneeling in basically the spot that was previously occupied by Hippolyta, leading us to draw a connection between the two characters, something that I don’t recall seeing before. Lysander (Joey Major) joins Hermia there, while Demetrius (Ethan Haslam) stands to the side, at first hardly looking at her, creating an image that makes it quite clear where the love is among this group. After Lysander’s line about her “father’s love,” he and Demetrius scuffle, and it is Hippolyta who finally separates them, which is interesting. Also, this is an early example of how physical a production this one is. And that is part of what makes this production so much fun.

Helena (Sara Mountjoy-Pepka), when making her first entrance, kind of sneaks onto the stage. She is a good head taller than Hermia, which later makes all those jokes about height all the more pointed and strong. She is also the first character to sing her lines, singing “that fair again unsay” all the way to “ere I go.” Then she and Hermia sing their exchange together, before Hermia runs off into the woods upstage, followed by Lysander, leaving Helena alone to deliver her speech about Demetrius. The entire cast is strong, but Helena is absolutely fantastic, and it is during this speech that we first see just how good she is. When she is chasing Demetrius through the woods, she hugs him from behind on “You draw me.” She then crawls around at his feet after the “spaniel” line. One thing I love about the way that scene is handled is that Demetrius is actually sweet when delivering the “To trust the opportunity of night/And the ill counsel of a desert place/With the rich worth of your virginity” lines. We see that he does care about her, at least enough to worry about her, to not want any harm to befall her. It’s excellent to have that moment, so that we can believe at the end that they are actually good for each other. Later, after becoming out of breath in her “fond chase,” Helena sits just downstage of Lysander, and is hilarious when discovering him lying there. Her delivery of “Dead? or asleep?” is fantastic. She shouts out “Dead?” in alarm, and it’s funny that her mind would automatically jump to the worst conclusion, and then quickly follows it with the more mild, more inquisitive, “or asleep?” Hermia is also quite good after waking alone, particularly as she calls out hopefully to the missing Lysander. Her line “I swoon almost with fear” is spoken out to him in the hope that he will hear and react, rather than to herself, a wonderful choice.

When we meet the Mechanicals, most of them enter from behind the audience, with the exception of Quince (Earnestine Phillips). It’s a nice touch, because it feels like they are among us, that a portion of the audience is getting the chance to put on a play. And they are as excited about it as we would be. Of course, Bottom (Thad Geer) is particularly keen on the performance, wanting to play each role as it is mentioned. He is hilarious, choosing certain lines to really punch, such as “I will move storms.” Bottom even leads the others in a song before the rest of the parts are handed out. While the Mechanicals entered from the audience, the fairies enter from the woods, right away showing the extreme difference between those two groups. One of them even enters swinging on a rope. Rather than Puck meeting with one fairy in this scene, as in the text, he meets with four, each of them delivering some of the single fairy’s lines. Also, interestingly, the fairies have the little changeling boy with them. That boy plays a more significant role in this production than in most. Puck (Terrence Wayne, Jr.) proudly proclaims, “I am that merry wanderer of the night,” standing for that line. This Puck takes great delight in both his actions and words, and it is a joy to watch him. Oberon (Lisa Wolpe) and Titania (Melora Marshall) wear somewhat ornate headdresses to show their stations as King and Queen of the fairies, and demonstrate the power each has over the other in their first scene together. Titania sings the story of the changeling boy’s mother. And when Oberon describes to Puck the flower he needs, the lights become purple to match the line “now purple with love’s wound.”

Magic plays an even more important role than usual with this production. When Helena is chasing Demetrius, she basically gives up, until Oberon makes a signal, and then suddenly she stands up and says, “I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell.” There are many such moments in this production where the fairies have an effect on the mortals and their actions, and these moments are accompanied by some interesting use of percussion instruments. Of course, those moments are in addition to the uses of magic that we expect, such as when Bottom is transformed into an ass. The donkey head he wears covers most of his head, except his mouth and chin, so that his lines continue to be easily heard and understood. And later Puck actually physically pulls the donkey head off of Bottom (often that is done off stage, or in a spot on stage that is hidden from view) and holds it in his hands. One of my favorite moments of this production is when both Demetrius and Lysander, because of the magic flower, find themselves pining for Helena. Helena delivers her line, “To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,/Precious, celestial,” and with each word of that list that she utters, Demetrius and Lysander agree, repeating the word back to her. Helena catches on quickly, and before the end of the line, she is playing with them, as if to see how far they will go, and enjoying hearing herself called the words of her own choosing. It is a delightful and completely hilarious moment, and Helena totally owns it, and owns them (and us, for that matter).

The Mechanicals’ play at the end is also wonderful. Snout (Sky Wahl), in the part of Wall, reacts with such joy when Bottom repeats his name. Those reactions had the entire audience laughing out loud. Bottom actually does quite a good and earnest job in his part as Pyramus, though milking it for all it is worth, extending his death scene as much as possible. At last night’s performance, Tim Frangos filled in for the role of Flute, and did an absolutely commendable job, particularly during this play within a play as Thisbe, following Bottom in extending the death scene. Bottom and Flute are excellent here. For that scene, Demetrius, Helena, Lysander, Hermia and Egeus place themselves just in front of the audience, so they become part of us essentially, as we enjoy the performance. The Mechanicals engage in a dance, and then the couples dance, with Theseus and Hippolyta performing a rather warlike dance, once again reminding us of how they became a couple. Then everyone freezes, while the fairies take the stage. Because this production does not do the usual doubling of the roles of Theseus/Oberon and Hippolyta/Titania, Theseus and Hippolyta are able to remain on stage for this moment and Oberon’s speech, which was great.

This production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream is directed by Melora Marshall, and runs through November 7th. Visit the Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum website for the complete schedule. Because of the ongoing pandemic, the performance runs without an intermission, and is just under an hour and a half. Also, masks are required for all those in attendance, regardless of vaccination status.

Production photo by Ian Flanders

Shakespeare Reference in The Rich And The Beautiful

Ruth Harris’ novel contains a reference to The Tempest. Harris writes: “After all, a great beauty was marrying a great heir. It was the stuff dreams, Yale’s dreams, were made of” (p. 60). In Act IV, Prospero says, “We are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.”

The Rich And The Beautiful was published in 1978. The Bantam edition was published in September 1979.

 

Shakespeare References in Tender Is The Night

I just revisited F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender Is The Night, and of course found a few Shakespeare references. The first reference, however, is in the introduction written by Charles Scribner III, though in a note by Fitzgerald within that introduction. Anyway, here it is: “Think of the case of the Renaissance artists, and of the Elizabethan dramatists, the first having to superimpose a medieval conception of science and archeology, etc., upon the Bible story; and, in the second, of Shakespeare’s trying to interpret the results of his own observation of the life around him on the basis of Plutarch’s Lives and Holinshed’s Chronicles” (p. xiv). In the novel itself, there is a reference to The Tempest, or at least the use of a word that Shakespeare apparently created for that play. Fitzgerald writes, “Standing in the station, with Paris in back of them, it seemed as if they were vicariously leaning a little over the ocean, already undergoing a sea-change, a shifting about of atoms to form the essential molecule of a new people” (p. 83). In The Tempest, Shakespeare writes, “Nothing of him that doth fade,/But doth suffer a sea-change/Into something rich and strange.” Though Puck wasn’t Shakespeare’s invention, I figured I’d mention that there is a reference to that character in this novel. Fitzgerald writes, “Tommy ordered two cognacs, and when the door closed behind the waiter, he sat in the only chair, dark, scarred and handsome, his eyebrows arched and upcurling, a fighting Puck, an earnest Satan” (p. 294). The final reference is to Hamlet: “On an almost parallel occasion, back in Dohmler’s clinic on the Zürichsee, realizing this power, he had made his choice, chosen Ophelia, chosen the sweet poison and drunk it” (p. 302).

Tender Is The Night was published in 1934. The First Scribner Paperback Fiction Edition was published in 1995.