(Open) Road Hazard

This post began with a text message.  My brother was on a shopping excursion and saw an advertisement for a local production of Hamlet.  Knowing well my affection for the subject (and having contributed materially to several posts over the years), he sent a picture of the play poster.  I did some research into the production.  This particular Hamlet was staged by the Open Road Theatre.  They are a local community theatre company, dedicated to "re-imagined casting which is all inclusive for the benefit of everyone."  Curiously, the play was given a subtitle:  "To Be or Not To Be--Our Authentic Self."  I had no previous experience with their productions, and the quoted characteristics left me apprehensive.  I thought immediately of the Othello I had seen and fled recently (see 5/16/24 post).  Hamlet was performed at MuCCC, a small comfortable theatre with which I have plenty of experience.  Taking another of my brother's text messages entirely out of context, "Sometimes ya gotta pull the trigger..."  I decided to go for it.

MuCCC is a black box theatre with four rows of seating.  As I had learned from previous visits, rows one and two are great--comfortable and terrific sight lines.  Rows three and four...not so much.  Fortunately I was in my "usual" spot:  second row, stage right.  The set consisted of four stage cubes and four blank canvas flat panels on the back wall.  The former served numerous purposes, and this became a problem later in the production as too much time was expended setting and resetting the cubes for scene changes.  The panels broke up the back wall, but I did not notice them serving much of a "scenic environment" as the playbill had described.  Other props were carried in and out as needed.

The costuming was designed to depict Elsinore in 1599.  The pieces looked great and certainly conveyed the desired period.  Also, the costumes never changed.  Hamlet was never shown with his doublet all unbraced or demonstrating any effects of madness.  Only Ophelia changed outfit during the course of the show.

The play was advertised as "an estimated 2 hours and 20 minutes."  With that running time, numerous cuts would have to be made.  This requires the director to decide what to remove.  In this case, there were some questionable choices.  The Fortinbras subplot and Hamlet's "How all occasions" soliloquy were left in, although the soliloquy was much shortened.  The dumb show was left in.  Much of Polonius' witty dialogue was removed.

Additionally, there were a couple of questionable casting decisions.  Horatio was recast as a woman, I think. The character's male name was kept, but the costuming was female.  (At least the name was not re-imagined as Horatia!)  Equally poor was changing Rosencrantz to a female character, I think.  The costume was that of a male character, but it seemed that the role was supposed to be female.  Whatever the point of these alterations, they did not work. 

Given that this is a community production and that cast members are not professional actors, one has to cut them some slack.  Among the various roles, Hamlet and Polonius stood out.  Hamlet first appeared with eyes rolling at Claudius' proclamations.  Throughout, Hamlet was restrained and believable.  It was an enjoyable performance.  Polonius was the highlight of the show.  The actor, with over 100 productions to his credit, showed that he was well-versed in his craft.  He was a joy to watch!  Regrettably, much of his dialogue was cut in order to fit the running time.  The remaining acting performances did not have much to recommend them.

The first half of the production moved quickly with good pace.  The players' arrival was a bad omen, though.  The performances were especially dreadful.  The "Rugged Pyrrhus" speech, traditionally spoken by First Player, was split between the Player King and Player Queen.  It was entirely unbelievable, done as some sort of ham-handed slapstick that just rankled.  This destroyed the "Rogue and peasant slave" soliloquy that followed.  Hamlet's reference to the player being brought to tears fell apart, given that the player showed no sincere emotion at all.  It was a very poor directorial choice.  Greater consideration should have been given to the admonitions about overacting that Hamlet gives to the players.

The second half of the play had little dramatic flow.  It opened with the "To be or not to be" soliloquy.  Ophelia was sitting on stage; did Hamlet know that?  It was unclear, as he delivered his speech to a portrait of his father hanging on the wall.  A glaring mistake occurred after Polonius was dispatched.  As Hamlet was being questioned about the disposal of the body, the usual lines to Claudius about Heaven and Hell were spoken.  The rest of the dialogue, including the comment about nosing Polonius under the stairs was omitted.  So where was Polonius?  Was the body ever found?  This, too, was never clarified.

Things moved quickly in the remainder of the half, as if the cast were trying consciously to get done within the advertised time limit.  (Part of this may have been due to the failure of the climate control system in the theatre, which led the room to get more uncomfortably hot as the evening progressed.)  Removing the Fortinbras subplot would have helped as it added nothing to the performance.  (And why was Fortinbras a princess?)  Instead, what was left of the second half was largely edited to keep the plot points while losing the joy of Shakespeare's words.  The duel scene was tame and unbelievable, and everyone died as expected.  The Horatio character let loose with a tremendously loud and totally unnecessary scream while cradling the body of Hamlet.  Thank God the rest was silence!

It is admirable that community theatre companies continue to perform the works of Shakespeare many hundreds of years after they were written.  This presents a quandary for a director, however.  Is the play being produced as a work of its own time, of the time in which it is being performed, or something else?  The choice influences the presentation.  What is the stress--the plot?  The words?  If one is intent on just telling a story, then there is no need to adhere to Shakespeare.  If one is performing Shakespeare's play, then one should actually use Shakespeare's play, especially the words.  This performance, admirable as it may have been in intent, failed in the execution.

Changing Tastes

Once upon a time...  Stop.  One should not start a story that way; it's cliche.  Looking back over 200+ posts and nearly eleven years, though, gives this author pause for reflection, and that pause leads to a new post in a different direction.

When I began this blog over a decade ago, it was an outlet for writing about all things Hamlet (and Shakespeare, more generally).  I didn't imagine that there would be many readers out there; a not-terribly-well-advertised blog about Hamlet is not exactly anything earth-shattering.  It was an enjoyable reason to go to the theatre, to see a play, to read something new, to write.  And for many of those many posts, it was very enjoyable!

For a time, there was not much relating to Hamlet or Shakespeare that I would not undertake.  My bookshelves are still overflowing with various Hamlet resources.  There is quite a collection of Playbills in my apartment.  Hamlet took me all over for performances--some excellent, some dreadful.  I took them all in cheerfully with an eye (and pen and pad) to recounting them.

I guess after a while, though, one's tastes change.  Be it books, films, music:  one looks for something new and different.  Certainly the frequency of blog posts waned over the years.  One can only read so much before one starts to run out of titles (and wants to read something new).  The opportunities to see live performances, Hamlet or not, also decreased--the normal progression of things as well as pandemic-induced issues.

All of this was brought home quite obviously when I returned to the University of Rochester's International Theatre Program to see their production of Othello during the recently concluded spring semester.  They were responsible for an enjoyable Hamlet many years ago (see 10/14/13 and 10/20/13 posts).  Plus, there was a new theatre built on campus, and I looked forward to seeing it.  Things looked promising.

I arrived at the theatre early and spent some time in the lobby reading through the Playbill.  The first cloud appeared on the horizon.  This production was a modern adaptation with a female in the role of Iago, recast as a lesbian military officer.  I nearly walked out at that point, but I restrained myself.  The ticket was already bought, after all.  The evening's show ended up being a sell-out (it was opening night).  As we filed into the theatre proper, I took in the sights--there weren't any.  The new theatre is a very utilitarian black box, with exposed fixtures and retractable risers for seating.  There was no set to speak of, just various props moved on and tossed off as necessary.

The play was not terribly interesting (to be polite).  The cast gave a valiant attempt, but it was not reaching this audience member at all.  In the early days of the blog, I might have stuck it out in the name of Internet journalism.  Nowadays, though, it is not worth the effort.  At the interval, I bailed.  I know how it all turns out, or I could always reread my post from 2/14/21 to find out.

Another blogging opportunity arose with the broadcast of Hamlet on public television last week.  Apparently it was a recorded performance of the recent NYC Shakespeare in the Park production.  A three-hour show beginning at 9 p.m. is stretching things, but I gave it a shot...until I saw it.  A modern African-American retelling of the tale opening with a casket covered by a U.S. flag and a picture of a U.S. serviceman on a house.  Gospel music.  What?  That was enough.  Change the channel, watch something else.  I did flip back a bit later to check in during a commercial break on what I was watching, and I was met with the player performing his speech as a song, I think.  I didn't stay around long enough to find out.

A recent (and well-deserved) vacation took me to England for a group tour of English cathedrals.  One of our evenings was spent in Stratford-upon-Avon.  It was wonderful to be back there and to wander over to Holy Trinity Church (closed for Evensong unfortunately).  During the course of the evening, one of the other tour members and I chatted about dramatic productions.  (Our hotel was directly across the street from the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.)  He said that he used to enjoy attending theatre shows, but in recent times everything seemed to be too modernized, too controversial, trying too hard to fit into some movement.  I could not have agreed more wholeheartedly!  We commiserated as I told him about the Othello that I attended for half.  If we were able to have that conversation now, I could add the PBS Hamlet.

So what happens to this blog?  I'm not sure.  There may be occasion to get to a theatre, to catch a film, or to read a book, and if so a post will follow.  Life being what it is though (short), selectivity is a good thing.

Of course, what would a trip to Stratford be without a photo?  A quiet moment of reflection indeed!

Being a Student Again

Time has a way of getting away from one.  In looking at the date of my last post, I realized that it has been over a year.  The time duration feels every bit that long.  Call it a lack of inspiration.  Call it a moving on to other things.  Call it extreme lassitude.  I'm not sure what I would call it--likely a combination of all three.  In any event, it's been a long time.  Then fate intervenes, inspiration strikes, and here we are again.

For a time at work one of my unofficial duties was sorting mail.  As much as I would try just to shuffle the pieces into their respective cubicles, occasionally I would catch a glance of what was being delivered.  One such piece of mail was a newsletter from Hillsdale College.  I don't know what drew my attention to it.  It might have been an advert for a series of books on Winston Churchill.  It might have been an advert for the subject of this post.  It's been so long I don't remember.  Certainly, I'd never heard of the school before.  Anyway, I did some checking and learned that Hillsdale hosts numerous online classes on their website.  One of the offerings--"Shakespeare:  Hamlet and The Tempest."  It definitely was of interest, and the cost (FREE) did not hurt.  I filed it away for future consumption, and then let plenty of other things get in the way.

Finally I got around to the course as a workplace diversion.  The flexibility of the job allows for some free time during the day, and the flexibility of the course fits nicely.  The courses consist of lectures, Q & A sessions with the professor, and quizzes to test mastery.  The quizzes are a very low pressure affair; even though a minimum passing score is required, retakes are permitted.  They are great for keeping the student honest.  It was an excuse for paying attention, taking notes, and feeling like a serious student again.

The lectures were interesting.  The professor, Stephen Smith, showed a personal interest in the material and did a great job conveying that through his words.  The lectures went at a fairly basic level, for me at least.  I've seen and heard quite a bit on Hamlet, and The Tempest was required reading in a college Shakespeare class many moons ago.  While the three Hamlet lectures did not provide much that was really new to me, it was a good refresh after being away from the topic for so long.  The Tempest portion (also three lectures) gave me a chance to re-familiarize myself with the play; admittedly I didn't remember much from that long-ago course.

Another feature of the course is the Q & A sessions with the professor.  Moderated by John Miller, another Hillsdale professor, they consist of short discussions about the lectures.  They were interesting additions--sometimes clarifying, sometimes adding material.

Upon successful completion of the course I received a certificate, material proof of achievement.  More than that, though, the course awakened something that had been missing for a bit--an interest in Hamlet.  It also awakened something that had been missing for much longer--the desire to sit in a college classroom and to be a student again.  Although that phase has long passed, unlikely ever to return, the Hillsdale online courses fit my current mentality and personality.  They're comfortable, convenient, and interesting; a great opportunity for anyone looking for some academic stimulation.

As a postscript to this, I started a second course, this one an introduction to C.S. Lewis.  It's incredibly interesting thus far, and it gave fate another chance to intervene.  During the most recent lecture, the professor offered a reference to Hamlet:  the C.S. Lewis work "Hamlet:  The Prince or the Poem?".  That rang a bell and sent me to my Hamlet shelf.  I found it in the book Hamlet:  Enter Critic, which I read long ago and that was the basis of many early posts on this blog. In fact, that particular Lewis work was the subject of my post on May 11, 2014.  Fate, Providence.  It's nice to be back!

Hamlet. Prince Hamlet.

One of the benefits of this blog, aside from feeding the author's inflated sense of self, is to provide a place to save Hamlet references for future use.  (I have no idea what that occasion might be.)  Consider it, then, an annotated bibliography.  This post, the first in long while, fits squarely within that descriptor.

The latest book on my reading list was The James Bond Dossier by Kingsley Amis.  I discovered it while reading a book on the early James Bond films that I had discovered in a vintage book store.  (Apply the adjective to either noun.)  Amis's Dossier is an extended essay reflecting on the Ian Fleming canon.  To this diehard James Bond fan, it really was quite a delightful read!  Never did I suspect that its path would cross with this blog.

Appendix B to the Dossier is entitled "Literature and Escape."  It opens with a paragraph-long discussion of the overriding subject of this ongoing project.  Amis was spot on with his thoughts on Bond, and he was spot on with his thoughts on Hamlet!  I reprint his comments here, for both the reader's enjoyment and the author's retention.

All literature is escapist.  Everyone at one time or another must have wanted not merely to play but to be Hamlet.  This, I suppose, is the most likely explanation for Hamlet's preeminence in so many people's minds, in defiance of its many claims to be judged the weakest of Shakespeare's tragedies.  I agree that, on consideration, Hamlet's the sort of man only a monster of egotism could want to be, but we all have our monstrous moments and they rarely bring us any permanent harm.  I agree too that there's very much more in Hamlet than we can get out of it just by identifying with its hero, but nobody, as far as I know, has cut himself off from that very much more by identifying now and again, or even a good bit of the time.

Here's to the monsters among us!

Amis, Kingsley.  The James Bond Dossier.  New York:  New American Library, 1965.  Quotation taken from page 137.

Something Old

"Start writing, no matter what.  The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on."  --Louis L'Amour

An unexpected find led to this post.  I was cleaning my apartment recently, although cleaning might be too strong a term.  I found some folders in the Hamlet collection and started sifting through them to see what was there.  I found some junk that went straight into the scrap paper bin, following a "Why did I keep that?" moment.  I found other things that weren't discoveries but rather remembrances:  "I knew I had that!"  This post's topic, however, came from the third category:  "Where did that come from?"

What turned up was an article from The New Yorker, circa November 20, 1995.  Written by David Remnick, it is entitled "Hamlet in Hollywood."  I have no idea how it ended up in my collection.  The time frame would have put me in college, so perhaps it was from the Shakespeare course that has been mentioned in previous posts.  As the article was in a different folder, though, I'm not entirely sure.  Either way, this old something became a new something, albeit 26 years after the fact.

The article describes a legal conflict over a supposedly new theory on Hamlet.  The combatants were Steve Sohmer, the one-time president of Columbia Pictures, and Mary Ann McGrail, a Boston University Shakespeare scholar.  The argument involved the origination of "a theory that the life of Martin Luther is the hidden source of the play" (66).

"Sohmer's work emphasized Shakespeare's use of the calendar in "Hamlet" and how it might provide hints of the character's relation to Luther" (68).  He contended that he hired McGrail to work with him as an assistant of sorts.  When she attempted to write her own article about the life of Luther as the basis for Hamlet, Sohmer undertook legal action.

The author interviewed both McGrail and Sohmer for their perspectives on the issue.  They take themselves very seriously.  Of course, they were embroiled deeply within the matter.  It is the interviews of third parties that provide the objective distance.  Princeton's Lawrence Danson discounts the work.  "Yes, of course Hamlet went to Wittenberg, but Marlowe's Dr. Faustus lived there, too.  What then?" (81).  What then would be David Davalos' play, Wittenberg, which was published in 2010, well after The New Yorker article.  (See 4/20/14 post).  It took the notion that Hamlet, Luther, and Faustus were familiars to great dramatic and comedic effect.  I wonder if the playwright used the work of Sohmer or McGrail as a basis for his work.

Another scholar, Peter Blayney of the Folger Shakespeare Library, shot down McGrail's notion that capitalization of animal names in the Second Quarto was somehow significant.  "[This] is extremely far-fetched.  It just doesn't sound as if she were within her area, here at least..." (81).  James Shapiro of Columbia University also seemed skeptical of the arguments.  "With enough inventiveness, almost anything can be argued about Shakespeare's plays--and most of it has been" (82).  Hearing about the legal conflict, he replied, "An intellectual-property dispute over this is hilarious.  In fact, it's sad" (82).  That statement pretty much summarized it for me.  Sensibly, both parties dropped the lawsuit and went their separate ways with their research.

Twenty-six years later, what had happened?  Certainly David Davalos' play explored the ideas that Sohmer and McGrail seemed to be attempting to develop here, but in a more literal fashion by putting Hamlet and Luther together.  What about the one-time legal combatants, though?  A search on Amazon provided a bit of an answer.  Steve Sohmer is listed as the author of several Shakespearean books.  One is a 2017 title, Reading Shakespeare's Mind.  Another is a 2007 work, Shakespeare For the Wiser Sort.  Mary Ann McGrail is listed as author of one title, Tyranny in Shakespeare (2001).  It may be a published version of her dissertation as described in The New Yorker article.  All are available for a price.  While there are synopses and reviews, none sounds interesting enough for further investigation.

And so an old magazine article on an even older play provided some enjoyment and an excuse, as Louis L'Amour put it, to start writing, no matter what.  Another chapter completed in this ongoing project.  Until the next one...

P.S.  A bonus Hamlet appearance in today's NY Times Crossword.  36 across (13 letters):  "Hamlet's dilemma...with a phonetic hint..."  That one was not too tough to figure out.  It led one to solve answers containing "habit" and "rabbit" and also "treble" and "pebble."

P.P.S.  Another clue in the same puzzle.  52 across (four letters):  "Schemer against Othello."  I've known that one for years!  (See 2/14/21 post.)

Saturday With the Moor

Another cold February Saturday was saved by the Stratford Festival.  It was a day for not even drawing the curtains.  (Sure, it might have been sunny out, but cold just the same.)  English football (albeit a bad day for Liverpool), a good novel (more on that later), and then an evening performance of Othello made for a quite pleasant home-bound day.

The Shakespearean portion of the day was courtesy of Stratford's free stream-at-home largesse.  Again, it was a wonderful gesture on their part for their south of the (Canadian) border friends.  The 2019 production of Othello was not one that I was able to see on stage, so this was a great opportunity to get caught up.

Othello was the first Shakespearean play that I studied.  It was sophomore year of high school,  Advanced English.  (Nothing in freshman year?  Nope.  Odd reading list that.)  In a year of difficult reads, many of which I might appreciate more now, Othello was the Shakespearean contribution.  Having seen the name Iago in many crossword puzzles, I finally was able to meet the source of those clues.  What stands out now was the teacher, a Jesuit priest, explaining what the "beast with two backs" was.  Honestly, I don't remember much else of our study of the play.

Two years later, having jettisoned the advanced track for a more pleasant English experience, I chose an elective on Shakespeare.  The tragedy offering was...Othello?  Why would a class cover the same play that had been studied two years earlier?  Bad planning on the part of the English Department, methinks.  That brief experience was noteworthy for the BBC film starring Anthony Hopkins as Othello and Bob Hoskins as Iago.

Forward twenty-eight years to yesterday evening.  This version of Othello was set in modern times, with characters largely in military dress--lots of camouflage.  The set design was particularly inventive.  It was a black box writ large, with backdrop lighting used to simulate scenery.  The darkness added well to the mood of the play, and the white light provided a stark contrast.  As enjoyable as it was to see it on TV, it must have been quite striking to see it live.

The cast was tremendous.  Several of them had appeared in the Festival production of The Merry Wives of Windsor (see 2/7/21 post).  Michael Blake as Othello was terrific in showing the terrible psychological and physical effects of jealousy.  Gordon S. Miller was particularly vile as Iago--a supreme compliment.  His was a treacherous, quite horrid portrayal.  (It helped that he bore a physical resemblance to someone I used to know who shared some of those unpleasant qualities.)  Amelia Sargisson's Desdemona was piteous; one could not help to feel sorry for her husband's treatment of her.  Johnathan Sousa, a personal Stratford favorite, as Cassio and Laura Condlin as Emilia were excellent as two characters snared in Iago's web.

The play had good direction and pacing overall.  Admittedly, I did find myself checking the clock late in the 160-minute running time.  Things picked up with the final scenes, though.  Desdemona's death scene was difficult to watch; it was a very realistic strangling.  In fact, it made the death scene in Hamlet seem almost comic by comparison.  The play ended on a decidedly dour note with a final fade to black.  The standing ovation given by the audience was very well deserved.

It seems that this may wrap up Shakespearean viewings for a bit, having exhausted the Stratford offerings.  I won't discount fate, though; something likely will arise.

Speaking of fate...  What about Saturday's novel?  It was Herman Wouk's A Hole In Texas.  I saw it for sale at a library used book sale and thought about it for a moment, having family in Texas (and missing visiting there).  Instead, I went to the shelves and checked the book out on loan.  I started it on Saturday morning and had it finished by the end of the day.  One line in particular stuck out:  "You were smuggled in and out in a laundry basket, like Falstaff!"  Wait!  That was last Saturday's Shakespeare.  Funny how things work out.

The Stratford Wives

A rather glum February Saturday was made considerably brighter, thanks to the Stratford Festival.  Earlier in the month, an unexpected gift arrived via e-mail inbox--free streaming access to the Festival's recent production of The Merry Wives of Windsor.  Although a frequent visitor to the Festival, this production was not one that I was able to see live.  That situation very happily was remedied!

The Merry Wives had been on my viewing list for a time.  I had read the play in college, part of a project analyzing the evolution of Falstaff.  Back then I was not savvy enough (and had not done enough outside research) to pick up on the obvious differences between the historical Falstaff and the comedic Falstaff.  Years (and additional research) later, it makes more sense.  Previous Saturdays had found me working through Shakespeare's Henriad on film.  (See posts from April 2020.)  It was only natural to finish off the Falstaff saga, and the opportunity presented itself perfectly.

Reading the cast list during the opening credits was like seeing old friends again.  Numerous actors I had enjoyed in previous Stratford trips were there.  Geraint Wyn Davies as Falstaff reprised his role from the Stratford production Breath of Kings (see 8/1/16 post).  Ben Carson, Graham Abbey, Mike Shara, and Johnathan Sousa, favorites all, featured in this production as well.

The play was an absolute delight!  Set in the 1950's, the set and music worked very well with Shakespeare's words.  Bringing the action into a modern context did not detract or distract.  The entire company did an excellent job, conveying well the play's humor.  In addition to the aforementioned actors, Gordon S. Miller as Caius was hilarious, especially with his awfully ludicrous French accent.

One glitch was the stream's captioning.  For the first act, there were no issues.  Following the interval, however, the captioning was not synced to the actors, running earlier than the spoken word.  It got to be annoying enough that I had to shut the captioning off.  Fortunately, the dialogue was still understandable without it.

And so another of Shakespeare's canon is in the books.  Hopefully the world situation will allow for this U.S. resident to visit Stratford in person again someday.  Until then, home viewing is the next best thing!