King Lear (Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre Group 2018 Production) Theatre Review

The new production of King Lear at Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre in North Hollywood shows how effective the great tragedies can be in an intimate space without much in the way of sets. With only a long black box up center and a three-step black box stage left as set pieces, and without backdrops, the focus is entirely on the performances.

When Kent (Tom Trudgeon) and Gloucester (Paul Carpenter) enter for the first scene, Edmund (Saint Ranson) is already on stage. He doesn’t react to Gloucester’s rather insulting words about him, but instead maintains a neutral expression. Later, in the second scene when he is alone, he is finally able to react, able to let out what he held in before, and his anger erupts. When King Lear (Robert A. Prior) and the others enter, Lear goes up the three steps, while the others form a line upstage, so that Lear is above them, the proper place for a king. Goneril (Sasha Ilford) is caught off guard when asked to voice her love for Lear, which is nice. Clearly she had not planned any words for the occasion, and isn’t sure just how much to say. When it is Regan’s turn, she is ready because she’s had a moment to prepare something while Goneril spoke. The production is done in period costume, and both Goneril and Regan (April Sigman-Marx) are in regal purple, with Regan wearing red beneath, perhaps an indication of her more bloodthirsty personality.

On Lear’s “Nothing will come of nothing,” he steps down to everyone else’s level. And on Cordelia’s “and true,” she takes Lear’s face in her hands, lovingly touching both cheeks, and perhaps it is that touch that helps make Lear turn on her. This production does a lot with touch, actually. On Lear’s “did hold her so,” he grabs Cordelia (Carlita Penaherrera) by the back of the neck and leads her to the steps. When she stands above everyone, it is more like she stands atop a scaffold than a throne, a nice touch. When France (Luc Rosenthal) takes her hand and leads her back down, his lines are spoken just to her rather than to those assembled, making them more intimate and thus more honest, more true. By the way, Cordelia and Kent are both dressed in similar colors, a light blue, helping to draw a deeper connection between the two banished but true characters.

When Kent appears disguised, he has shorter hair and wears a hood. And when Lear enters, it is happily. His is carousing with his men, and it is striking, because this moment is the most joyful we have seen him, and the most joyful we will see him. It is the only moment when he believes the choice he made is working out for the best. In this production, Kent does not actually trip Oswald.

One of the production’s best performances is by Carlita Penaherrera as the Fool. Yes, the same actor plays Cordelia and the Fool, as it is believed was done during Shakespeare’s day, though of course now that actor is female rather than male. As the Fool, she wears a blond wig and affects a different voice. This casting gives several of the lines a different or stronger meaning. Such as when the Fool asks “Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?” Lear’s response, “nothing can be made out of nothing,” of course reminds us of his response to Cordelia’s “Nothing.” And here Lear seems aware of it too, giving a slight pause after “made out of.” And the Fool is the recipient of Lear’s affections in a way you feel Cordelia was meant to be. It is almost like Lear is able to do right by Cordelia by doing right by his Fool. There is also the idea that Lear eventually becomes the Fool, making the Fool no longer necessary. This idea is planted early on when on the line “That thou wast born with,” the Fool puts his fool’s cap on Lear’s head.

When Goneril enters, Kent goes and sits in the audience, as if concerned she would recognize him. That’s a really nice touch, for it shows how the people closest to Lear believe he is not in complete control of his faculties already – that Goneril but not Lear would recognize Lear’s most loyal man. I also love that in this scene, Goneril is still gentle in her speech, at least at first. And she becomes so upset, nearly in tears, when her father curses her and delivers the “thankless child” line. Ilford is excellent here. You really feel for Goneril, which I appreciate. Goneril has never seemed an inherently evil character to me. And Lear is behind her, and so not seeing her face, which actually works to make us side with Goneril even more. Cornwall (Anthony Feole), on the other hand, has something of an evil grin from the start, his look and demeanor sort of announcing that he’s a villain.

Both Edmund and Edgar (Christian Sullivan) are fantastic in the first scene of Act II when Edmund is putting into action his plot against Edgar. I love the moment when Edmund hits his sword against the sword of a baffled Edgar, trying to get him to pretend to fight. Edgar’s transformation to poor Tom is handled really well, with him removing his pants and tying his white shirt around his waist. On the lines about dirtying his face, he reaches to the floor as if for mud, and his performance is so compelling that I believe he has found mud and grime there. And his delivery of “That’s something yet” is absolutely fantastic, nearly stunning. In a later scene, when Gloucester enters, Edgar tries to hide his face from him. His performance as poor Tom is captivating, and he does not hold back at all.

Robert A. Prior has many excellent moments as King Lear, like in the scene where he demands to see Regan. Then, after Goneril has entered, at one point Lear starts to embrace her, when he tells her she is “my flesh, my blood, my daughter.” Then he suddenly turns on her. It is interesting how often physical contact in this production turns violent, the main exception being contact with the Fool. When Lear says “O, fool, I shall go mad,” he puts his arm and the fool, and waits for Goneril and Regan to part so they can pass between them, a wonderful moment. As for the famous storm scene, this production uses sound effects and a lighting change, but the storm is sold to us especially by the Fool’s movement against it. Once again, Carlita Penaherrera does an excellent job here. For the trial scene, when Lear says “Thou robed man of justice,” he indicates Edgar. As for Goneril, a male audience member in the front row is indicated rather than an empty stool. Yet the Fool’s line about the joint-stool is left in, which then doesn’t quite work. Lear’s delivery of “Make no noise” is so earnest as to be heart-breaking. Robert A. Prior is quite adept at making the straightforward delivery of a line completely heartrending, as he does again later with “If you have poison for me, I will drink it.” The Fool’s last line in the play, “And I’ll go to bed at noon,” is delivered directly to Lear. Then, when we next see Lear, he is wearing the Fool’s hat, which is interesting, not only because it suggests Lear has accepted his role as fool, or at least that he is aware of it in some manner, but also because it really raises the question of what exactly happened to the Fool. Did he simply give Lear the hat, understanding that Lear had taken over his role until he was no longer needed? Then, on his “stage of fools” line, Lear removes the cap. By the way, Lear’s “scurvy politician” line received a bit of a cheer, understandably given our current political horrors.

As I mentioned earlier, Regan has a bloodthirsty streak to her personality, and there are some fantastic moments where she truly delights in it, to the point that you wonder if this isn’t perhaps her truest self at last. For example, after killing the servant who tried to stop Cornwall from blinding Gloucester, Regan actually licks the dagger. And she takes great joy in that wonderful line, “Let him smell his way to Dover.” April Sigman-Marx is particularly good in this scene, and the moment when she steps away from her husband when he asks for her hand is chilling. It is especially so because a moment earlier she had killed the servant who had turned on her husband, and so we see that it wasn’t in her husband’s defense that she killed him, but perhaps more for her own joy.

One element in this production that does not work is the use of sound effects in the scene where Gloucester is led to what he believes is a cliff. When Edgar is trying to convince Gloucester that he’s brought him to his desired destination, he asks Gloucester, “Hark! do you hear the sea?” At that point, we hear sound effects of waves against the shore. But of course Edgar has not brought him to a cliff at the edge of the sea, and Gloucester even answers, “No truly.” He doesn’t hear the sea because he is not at the sea. The question is, Why do we hear the sea? Interestingly, the sounds stop during Gloucester’s renouncing-the-world speech.

The sword fight between Edmund and Edgar is quite brief, but the ending with Lear and Cordelia is not rushed. Lear’s cries of “Howl” are long, loud and anguished. And he holds onto Cordelia longer than usual, cradling her, which feels right. On his “my poor fool is hang’d,” Lear looks at Cordelia, the moment given extra meaning because of the same actor playing both roles. I am always excited to see how a production will handle Lear’s last moments, when he urges those around to look at Cordelia. Does he, just before dying, believe that Cordelia lives, and so dies happily? Or is it that as he passes into the next realm he actually does see her? Or is he overcome with madness? In this production, as he says “Look there, look there,” he first looks at Cordelia, then looks up, as if Cordelia is rising. But actually Lear is falling backwards, and that causes his head to look upward. What a fantastic way of delivering that moment! It is a strong finish to a really good production.

This production of King Lear was directed by Denise Devin. It runs approximately ninety minutes, without intermission. The play runs through December 17, 2018. Check the Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre Group website for schedule. Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre is located at 4850 Lankershim Blvd. in North Hollywood, California.

Shakespeare Reference in How To Live With A Calculating Cat

Let me start by saying that, no, I don’t have a cat. I don’t even really like cats. And anyone who owns more than two cats should be put away for the good of society. But I did read a book titled How To Live With A Calculating Cat, and that book has a Shakespeare reference, because it seems that every book I read has to contain at least one reference. The reference in this book is to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and specifically to Lysander’s line in Act I, “The course of true love never did run smooth.” Here the line is presented as “Among cats...... the course of True Love...... hardly ever…… runs smooth……” (p. ? – the book didn’t bother numbering the pages). Why the double ellipses? No fucking clue.

How To Live With A Calculating Cat was published in 1962.

Shakespeare References in Magazines (Screen Actor, The Hollywood Reporter, Oregon Quarterly, Westways)

My apartment is tiny, and yet I keep finding things I had forgotten about, things that I no longer need. Such as a box of magazines. But as I was glancing through them, a couple of Shakespeare references jumped out at me. In the January 1999 issue of Screen Actor, there is an article titled “To Dub or Not to Dub…” which is obviously a reference to Hamlet’s famous soliloquy. The June 29, 2006 edition of The Hollywood Reporter contains a review of a production of Macbeth starring Live Schreiber in the title role. The writer didn’t care much for the production.

The Winter issue of Oregon Quarterly includes a piece on actor and writer Heidi Schreck which contains mention of a Shakespeare play: “Schreck performed in many productions including As You Like It, The Troubles, Springtime, The Bacchae, and Anton Chekov’s Three Sisters, which Schmore directed” (p. 50). That same article contains this: “‘Jeff and I would talk to Frog on our way to acting Shakespeare together,’ Schreck recalls” (p. 50). The Frog in question is a guy that would stand just outside of the University of Oregon campus, selling joke books. I still have a couple of his books. I took a course titled Acting Shakespeare at the University of Oregon, and assume that is what Schreck is speaking of here, and so the writer of the piece should have capitalized the A in “acting.” The Summer 2018 issue of Oregon Quarterly also contains a Shakespeare reference. It is in a piece titled “Icarus Rising,” which is an interview with Jake Swantko, Swantko says, about Grigory Rodchenkov: “He was always lecturing you about food or fine whiskey or his favorite musicians of 1970s Russia, or all these philosophers. He would recite Hamlet to us” (p. 52). Then in the current issue of Westways (November/December 2018), in an article on Peru, one of the sections is subtitled “Into Thinner Air,” a reference to Prospero’s lines in The Tempest, “These are actors/As I foretold you, were all spirits and/Are melted into air, into thin air.”

Shakespeare References in The Disappearance Of Childhood

Neil Postman’s The Disappearance Of Childhood, a book on the development and decline of the concept of childhood, contain several Shakespeare references. The first is to Julius Caesar, and is in the first chapter. Postman writes, “Historians usually come not to praise but to bury” (p. 5), obviously referring to a line near the beginning of Antony’s famous speech, “I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.” Then in the third chapter, Postman writes: “Shakespeare attended a grammar school in Stratford, and his experience there inspired him to express a famous complaint (for he had probably been required to read Lyly’s Latin Grammar)” (p. 40). Postman than goes on to quote a passage from The Second Part Of King Henry The Sixth: “Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-school…. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun, and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear” (p. 40). Those lines are part of a longer speech by Cade in Act IV. Postman continues, “But most Englishmen did not agree with Shakespeare that the creation of schools corrupted the youth of the realm” (p. 40). A little later in that same chapter, Postman writes: “Of course, children have never found such a regimen to their liking, and as early as 1597, Shakespeare was able to provide us with a poignant and unforgettable image of the child who knows that school is the crucible of adulthood. In the famous ‘ages of man’ passage in As You Like It, Shakespeare speaks of ‘the whining schoolboy, with his satchel/And shining morning face , creeping like snail/Unwillingly to school’” (p. 47). This book also contains a reference to Hamlet. In a passage in which he recounts some of the subjects that children hear about on television, Postman writes: “From hemorrhoids to the heartbreak of psoriasis, from neuritis and neuralgia to headaches and backaches, from arthritis to heart disease, from cancer to false teeth, from skin blemish to bad eyesight, there were forty-three references to the shocks our flesh is heir to” (p. 96). Those last words are a reference to Hamlet’s most famous soliloquy, in which he says “and by a sleep to say we end/The heartache and the thousand natural shocks/That flesh is heir to.”

The Disappearance Of Childhood was published in 1982. The first Laurel printing was in April of 1984.

Shakespeare Reference in Angel Of Darkness

Yes, Shakespeare references continue to pop up in nearly every book I read. Dennis McDougal’s Angel Of Darkness, a book about convicted serial killer Randy Kraft, contains one reference. The reference is to Shakespeare himself, rather than one of his plays. McDougal writes, “After an hour of Twain or Shakespeare in the classroom, it was exhilarating to move out to the parade grounds and put the boys through their paces, instructing them in the bearing of arms, returning their snappy young salutes” (p. 66).

Angel Of Darkness was published in 1991. I read the paperback edition, published in May of 1992.

Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead (A Noise Within 2018 Production) Theatre Review

production photo by Craig Schwartz

Hamlet is regarded by many as perhaps the greatest literary achievement of mankind. Most of the play’s characters, however, might have different feelings about it, as they do not make it to the end. Among those that die along the way are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two guys who were once friends with Hamlet but come under the employ of the duplicitous, murderous Claudius. They aren’t in all that many scenes, but Tom Stoppard puts them center stage in Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, the title of which acknowledges their demise from the get-go. When reading Hamlet, you sometimes wonder how Hamlet could have ever considered these two to be friends. They don’t seem to have any of his intellectual or philosophical curiosity. But in Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, they do. Or, at least Guildenstern does. Or is it Rosencrantz? In Hamlet, the two are often viewed as interchangeable, and in Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, several references are made to that, to the extent that they themselves often don’t know who is who. This idea of identity is one of the subjects the play delves into. But it is also about the question of how much power a person has over the direction or course his or her life takes. Sometimes it feels like we’re just driven along by events, by circumstances, by forces outside of ourselves, and it doesn’t matter what we do. But don’t worry – this is an extremely funny play.

A Noise Within’s new production of Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead is thoroughly enjoyable, and while it may cause you to ponder certain key elements of your existence, it will more often have you laughing aloud. The set is fairly simple, with two stone staircases, one on each side of the stage. A translucent scrim is upstage, behind which a ladder is visible. At the edge of the thrust stage is a series of electric candles acting as footlights, that also seem to act as a barrier to the play’s two main characters. When the play opens, Guildenstern (Rafael Goldstein) is seated center stage, casually tossing coins. Rosencrantz (Kasey Mahaffy) runs around, calling out “Heads” each time a coin lands. After a time, Guildenstern gets up, but continues tossing the coins. It’s interesting, because immediately a distinction is made between the two, as Guildenstern moves about as he desires, albeit in a limited space, while Rosencrantz’s movement seems, at least at this point, dictated by the coins’ movement. They are struck by the improbability of the coins always landing heads up. I love the joy with which Rosencrantz exclaims, “I’ve never known anything like it!” Guildenstern is more troubled by the phenomenon, and wishes to explore the meaning behind it. Rosencrantz is caught off guard by Guildenstern’s sudden command, “Discuss,” clearly not having expected a need to take part in Guildenstern’s rumination.

After Guildenstern suggests they move forward, they march side-by-side to the edge of the stage, stopping before the footlights. There is a sudden lighting change, as well as a magical sound, giving the impression that they are being toyed with by the fates, the universe or the gods. The lighting changes whenever other characters are about to enter, suggesting a change in their world is only brought on by other people. It is the group of actors, led by The Player (Wesley Mann), that first enter their sphere. Mann gives an excellent performance. His delivery of “We can give you a tumble if that’s your taste” is playful and saucy, getting a big laugh from the audience. Likewise, all the following dialogue that basically paints The Player as a sort of pimp receives laughter. When Rosencrantz makes the introductions, he gets his own name wrong, yet isn’t at all surprised by this strange lapse in his knowledge. The Player too contributes to the theme of chance and fate, saying “We have no control.” What’s interesting also is that, though Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seem to have no control over their exits and entrances, they are able to halt the players and keep them from leaving. And later we learn from The Player that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern did in fact leave them (while they were in the middle of a performance for them, no less), but the audience doesn’t see this. So though the two never actually leave the stage, other characters do see them as entering and exiting.

Most of the play’s other characters enter from upstage, through a gap in the scrim. They come in like bright, powerful explosions into the world of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, accompanied by lighting and sound changes, and then leave. The real action is always elsewhere, and while Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are relieved to finally have something happen, they are even more relieved when the others exit. In fact, after meeting with Claudius (Jonathan Bray) and Gertrude (Abby Craden), as well as Polonius (Apollo Dukakis), the first thing Rosencrantz says upon their exits is “I want to go home.” Good instincts, eh? He seems to know he’s out of his depth. At times, the lines of Guildenstern and Rosencrantz seem to echo lines we know from Hamlet. For example, Guildenstern says “Words, words, they’re all we have to go on,” making us think of Hamlet’s “Words, words, words.” And when Guildenstern says “That is the question,” we can’t help but think of Hamlet’s most famous speech. By the way, the entire scene in which Guildenstern pretends to be Hamlet is hilarious. And, later, when Guildenstern asks The Player what the dumb show is for, he is likely speaking for many in the audience who have seen Hamlet.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern look out at the audience on the lines about hoping someone interesting will come along. Guildenstern asks, “See anyone?” Rosencrantz answers: “No. You?” Guildenstern says, “No.” Of course we laugh, and that laughter is aimed at ourselves, at the idea that none of us is interesting. But actually they don’t see us. Unlike some of the other characters of Hamlet, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern aren’t allowed soliloquys and asides. They aren’t given that avenue of escape, nor that element of control. They can’t bring others into their world. Or, for that matter, keep them out. At one point, Rosencrantz blurts out, “We have no control, none at all,” a sudden desperate realization. Before that, each asks if the other is hungry. Neither is, which is another hint that things aren’t real, or that perhaps they already are dead, as the play’s title suggests. And that dialogue, in fact, leads to questions about death. The Player seems to know the future, rehearsing the end of Hamlet before it happens (in what might be my favorite scene of the production), even indicating the number of corpses that will be seen on stage. It is almost has if he is a god, showing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern their futures, though perhaps also indicating that none of it is real. As The Player says, “Truth is only that which is taken to be true.”

There are no weak performances in this production, but there are some stand-outs, including of course the two leads, in rather demanding parts (hey, even Hamlet gets a few rather lengthy breaks in his play). And though other characters have trouble distinguishing between Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, we in the audience certainly do not. The third particularly remarkable performance is that by Wesley Mann as The Player. Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead was directed by Geoff Elliott. It runs through November 18th, in repertory with A Picture Of Dorian Gray. There are two brief intermissions, and the performance lasts approximately two and a half hours. Of course, the more familiar you are with Hamlet, the more you will enjoy this play. A Noise Within is located at 3352 E. Foothill Blvd. in Pasadena, California. There is free parking in the Sierra Madre Villa Metro Parking Structure at 149 N. Halstead Street.

Shakespeare Study: Miscellaneous Books

My Shakespeare study will likely never end, as there is so much to read, and there are always productions to go to as well as film adaptations to view. Here are a few Shakespeare books that I’ve read in recent months.

Pop Sonnets: Shakespearean Spins On Your Favorite Songs by Erik Didriksen  -   This delightful book presents modern pop songs in sonnet form, as if Shakespeare had written them. I received it as a gift for Christmas, and a while waiting for a concert to start, I read a few aloud to see if my girlfriend and brother could guess which songs were being adapted. It became a fun game. One of our favorites was the George Thorogood And The Destroyers’ “Bad To The Bone.” Here is a bit of it, in sonnet form: “The morning I was born, the midwives smil’d,/rejoicing o’er the cherub they help’d birth./The eldest cast a sharpen’d eye; the child/she new delinquent was, not cause for mirth” (p. 88). And here is a bit of The Clash’s “Should I Stay Or Should I Go”: “My dearest, settle thy uncertain mind/and tell me the conclusion thou hast reach’d!/Will I from here abscond, or shalt thou find/me fit to loiter ‘round here unimpeach’d?” (p. 49). Pop Sonnets: Shakespearean Spins On Your Favorite Songs was published in 2015 through Quirk Books.

Shakespeare’s King Lear: The Relationship Between Text And Film by Yvonne Griggs  -  This is a volume in the Screen Adaptations series. Author Yvonne Griggs talks about some of the film versions and screen adaptations of King Lear, including some that seem a bit of a stretch, such as The Godfather. In doing so, Griggs of course offers some thoughts on the play itself. When discussing Peter Brook’s 1971 film of King Lear, Griggs writes: “It seems that until licensed by Lear to speak she has been a far more compliant woman. However, from this point onwards Goneril’s control of language increases in direct proportion to Lear’s diminished powers of rhetoric. Lear, resorting to ‘curses’ as his only means of expressing his fury, further emasculates himself in the wake of female challenges to his power. During the course of the opening scenes Lear’s language alters dramatically; the quiet commands of the patriarch, assured of his position and power, are displaced by the outraged curses of a man who has wilfully brought into question his own identity and sense of place within both familial and patriarchal systems” (p. 57). Regarding that same film, Griggs writes: “Lear goes against cultural expectation when he condones female speech and in so doing he wilfully engineers his own downfall. At some unconscious level he desires death and annihilation, and it is this self-inflicted abdication not only of control but of language itself that propels him to the ‘nothingness’ that consumes him in the blank screen at the close of the film” (p. 61). In the section on King Lear and the gangster movie, Griggs writes: “The urban underworlds of the gangster movie inevitably stand in ideological opposition to the values of the legitimate world and in this sense explore the same kind of juxtaposition of conflicting values realised in both the western and King Lear, the latter exploring the clash between an old feudal order epitomised by Lear, Kent and Gloucester, and the emerging new order characterised by self-interest and synonymous with Goneril, Regan, Cornwall and Edmund” (p. 118). Shakespeare’s King Lear: The Relationship Between Text And Film was published in 2009 by Methuen Drama.

Granville Barker’s Prefaces To Shakespeare: Love’s Labour’s Lost by Granville Barker; Foreword by Richard Eyre  -  This is obviously a volume in the Prefaces series. Regarding costumes for Love’s Labour’s Lost, Harley Granville Barker has this to say: “But these scrupulous young men would be purists in tailoring too. And a comedy of affectations, of nice phrases, asks that its characters should be expressive to their boot-toes, significant in the very curl of a feather” (p. 45). Regarding male actors playing female roles, and how that affected Shakespeare’s craft, Granville Barker writes: “It may influence his choice of subject; he does not trouble with domestic drama. Without doubt it determines what he will and will not ask woman characters and boy actors to do. Their love scenes are never embarrassing. They do not nurse babies. They seldom weep. He puts them, in fact, whenever he can, upon terms of equality with men; and women have been critically quick ever since to appreciate the compliment, not well aware, perhaps, how it comes to paid them” (p. 55). About Costard, Granville Barker writes: “Costard’s is a nimble wit; we must feel that for diversion he makes himself out to be more of a fool than he is. And the actor himself must be skilful of speech and light of touch, as good jesters and stage clowns were” (p. 71). This book was originally published in 1924. This paperback edition was first published in 1993. My copy is from 1995.

Makbeth adapted by Richard Schechner  -  This play is an adaptation of Macbeth, originating from workshops with The Performance Group. Richard Schechner, who wrote and directed the play, provides notes on the project at the beginning of the book. There is also a short piece titled The Makbeth Maze, written by Brooks McNamara. The witches in this adaptation are referred to as Dark Powers. Several characters are cut from Shakespeare’s work, and many lines are reassigned, creating different relationships. For example, Makbeth asks Duncan, not Banquo, “Ride you this afternoon?” And so Duncan speaks the lines that begin “As far as will fill up the time between now and supper” (p. 6). And interestingly Banquo speaks the line, “There’s blood on thy face.” And Makbeth responds, “‘Tis Banquo’s then” (p. 14). So Makbeth’s line is delivered as a threat. In Shakespeare’s play Macbeth says to one of the murderers, “There’s blood upon thy face,” and the Murderer responds, “‘Tis Banquo’s then.” It’s an unusual and interesting adaptation. The play opened in November of 1969. The book was published in 1978.

 

Hamlet Globe To Globe by Dominic Dromgoole  -  This book recounts the tale of the theatre company that took Hamlet to basically every country on Earth in a two-year period. It not only relates interesting anecdotes, but contains plenty of information about the play itself, and it what it means to us today. About iambic pentameter, Dominic Dromgooles makes this observation: “There was a warm, happy energy in the room, and I noticed for the first time what lurks within the iambic rhythm – a hidden hope. As each gentle upturned stress occurred and passed from person to person, it pulsed a discreet energy into the speaker and listener, and beyond into the room. It gave a lift” (p. 47). Regarding actors touring Europe in the late sixteenth century, Dromgoole writes: “Amongst that list of actors are some distinguished names, including Ben Jonson and (from Shakespeare’s company) Will Kempe, George Bryan and Thomas Pope. The last two both spent time working in Kronborg Castle in Elsinore, which is a substantial clue as to how Shakespeare knew so much about the tide-splashed rocks without and the cold stone gloom within. Many question how Shakespeare knew so much of the places he wrote about, while forgetting the most powerful transmitter of information in history – conversation” (p. 55). About the narrowing focus of Hamlet (as well as other Shakespeare plays), Dromgoole writes: “When Ophelia rushes from character to character handing out rue and rosemary and columbine, it is not only the flowers she is dispersing, but also the burden of her excess of sensibility. No one is immune. Claudius disintegrates from a wise, sophisticated politician to a clumsy murderer. Laertes casts aside all niceties, social and religious, even before he jumps into his sister’s grave. Families, political groupings, conspirators… All, if set on the wrong path, twist and contort each other into instability” (p. 91). Regarding Shakespeare’s “antic disposition,” Dromgoole writes: “Hamlet knows he is in psychological trouble, and knows he needs a disguise to conceal his pain. The solution is to create a mask that is both true and not true, to create a role that fits the self” (p. 92). About Polonius, Dromgoole writes: “The world of Hamlet gets darker after Polonius’s death. For Ophelia and for Laertes catastrophically, and their grief is a measure of the emotional value of their father. In the world of the play, without Polonius’s fussy, theatrical scheming, the door is opened for the harder-nosed brutality of Claudius. Much of the wit and the comforting human smallness is bled out of Elsinore with Polonius’s passing” (p. 120). Regarding the time when the play was written, Dromgoole notes: “Hamlet the play was born at the moment when chivalry was flailing its last histrionic limbs (the Ghost is in many ways the emblem and the echo of that chivalry) before giving way to a new world of trade and globalisation” (p. 268). About the moment when Hamlet hold’s Yorick’s skull, Dromgooe writes: “In that moment he stares death, actual and bony and hollow-eyed, straight in its fleshless face, and he feels not fear, but peace and understanding. It is a peace that is accessed through history” (p. 320). Hamlet Globe To Globe was published in April, 2017. The copy I read is an uncorrected proof, so it possible there are slight changes.

Twisted Tales From Shakespeare by Richard Armour; illustrated by Campbell Grant  -  This humorous volume recounts the plots of several of Shakespeare’s plays, including Hamlet, Macbeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Romeo And Juliet, The Merchant Of Venice and Othello. There is also a brief biography of William Shakespeare at the beginning. In the chapter on Macbeth, Armour writes: “The witches hear some dear friends calling, and depart. ‘Fair is foul, and foul is fair,’ they comment philosophically as they leave. This must have been pretty upsetting to any moralists, semanticists, or baseball umpires who chanced to overhear them” (p. 47). Armour plays with language, which I love, even cleverly using phrases coined by Shakespeare. For example, in that chapter on Macbeth, he writes, “But the witches, perhaps not liking the way he refers to their elocution, vanish into thin air, making it slightly thicker” (p. 49). The term thin air was coined by Shakespeare in The Tempest. He also writes: “Anyhow, he is too upset to put the bloody daggers by the guards, and Lady Macbeth takes over from her lily-livered husband” (p. 52). The term lily-livered was also coined by Shakespeare, in Macbeth, though it is actually Macbeth that uses the term to describe a servant. The book also contains several humorous footnotes, such as this one, regarding the two murderers in Macbeth: “Later joined by a third, thought by some scholars to be Macbeth in disguise, but more likely an apprentice murderer, getting experience” (p. 55). (Though, actually, my copy contains a typo: “Macbath.”) In the chapter on A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Armour writes, regarding Lysander: “Then an idea comes to him. He has an aunt who lives in a town some distance away, where the marriage laws are more lax than in Athens. The town isn’t named, but it’s probably somewhere in Nevada” (p. 71). And in the chapter on The Merchant Of Venice, Armour writes: “On the scroll is written ‘All that glisters is not gold.’ The Prince is chagrined. All these years he has been saying ‘glistens’” (p. 115). In that same chapter, he writes, “‘One half of me is yours, the other half yours,’ she tells him cryptically, hoping he can add” (p. 116). By the way, in the chapter on Romeo And Juliet, Armour uses the Q1 reading, writing “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” (p. 95). At the end, there is a short section on the sonnets, and also a bit poking fun at those people who think someone other than William Shakespeare wrote the works attributed to him. Twisted Tales From Shakespeare was published in 1957.