Choose Your Own Shakespeare

Does everybody remember “Choose your own adventure” books?  You’d come to a cliffhanger page that asks, “If you try to climb down into the ravine, turn to page 17 … If you think you can jump, turn to page 23…”   It was only a matter of time before you found every combination through the book, quickly spotting places where the lines converged (so that whether you went 15->17->25->26 or you went 15->23->24->25->26 you found yourself in the same spot).  But, still, a great example of how you can put some interactivity into a book.


The digital age gets to finally kick this up a notch with projects like Coliloquoy, which tracks the actual statistics of how people go through your book and reports those number back to the author.
Unfortunately the statistics provided for example don’t make a great case as to the usefulness – showing that in a coin-flip decision point, 52% of people pick one answer while 47% pick the other.  Depending on the size of your audience, that’s barely statistically significant.  What they need to do is look at post-read analysis and say things like “Of the people who took the A->B->D….” path, only 12% went back to read it again, but users who took the A->B->Q->C… path go back and re-read 50% of the time.”  Maybe at the end (I’m not sure if they already do this), have some sort of quick “How did you like the book?” question so you can judge your results.  After all, you can go back and read the book because you loved it, or because you hated it. So counting re-reads doesn’t tell you all you need to know.
Anyway, what’s this got to do with Shakespeare?
Well, Choose Your Own Shakespeare exists in live form (link via Bardblog).  This looks to be a structured improv sort of thing — instead of yelling out an idea, you get a choice of a couple of ideas, and the most votes wins.  Probably a lot easier on the actors :).
But I’d rather talk about the text.  Imagine that you want to tell your favorite Shakespeare story.  How would you go about turning it into a choose your own adventure?  What sort of choices does Hamlet have to make, and how would they take the story in a different direction?  Could you make a bigger statement about the nature of tragedy such that all paths through the story still end up back at the same final act?
This has almost certainly been done, I just can’t find any texts to point at.
What if you made such a story in this new Coliloquoy format, where we could get back statistics on how people chose to read the story?  I wonder where people would focus their attention, which scenes they’d skip and which they’d revisit?
Personally I’d like to see a path through the story that involves Hamlet dealing with Ophelia in a different way.  I understand it, I just find it one of the most unforgiving things that Hamlet does.
In my younger days (when I had more time for such things), these are the kinds of projects I’d daydream about.  A publishing engine that allowed me to craft endless paths through a story.  I’m not talking about a bunch of coinflip choices that ultimately do little but add a couple dozen pages to the story and leave only a few endings, but really exploring the universe by looking at every major decision point and asking “What if it went the other way?”  It’s near impossible to do justice when you’re talking about Shakespeare as your source, because as soon as you go off text everybody knows it and can not truly take an unbiased trip through your story.  But it doesn’t hurt to dream.

Theme Song Shakespeare : Welcome Back, Daughter!

A little something from Bill at Shakespeare Teacher!  Thanks Bill!

Welcome Back, Daughter

(King Lear, to the tune of “Welcome Back, Kotter”)

Welcome back,
Your love was one time in doubt.

Welcome back,
To that same old place where I kicked you out.

Well your sisters have changed since you hung around,
And my kingdom is lost, though I still am crowned.

Who’d have thought they’d kill you (Who’d have thought they’d kill you.)
Here within this milieu (Here within this milieu.)

Yeah, I think you’re still alive, ’cause my senses took a dive, welcome back,
Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back.

Anybody can play!  Send along your theme song mashups!

Directors! What Do You Cut, And Why?

I know I’ve got a bunch of directors in the audience.  Here’s a question I’ve never asked before, and I have no frame of reference for answering:

What’s the single largest piece of text you’ve cut from a production, and why did you pick it?

I’m specifically curious about how big a passage can get, while still being something that a director will say “Nope!  Don’t need that!”  Excising 50 lines throughout the play is very different than getting rid of a single speech of 50 lines, I’d assume.

Giving lines to another character doesn’t count.  This is about bits where you made the choice to leave some stuff on the floor.

Good Guy Friar Laurence

Once again Reddit’s bringing the interesting conversation, this time on an old Romeo and Juliet question:

Do you think that Friar Laurence is a criminal or a hero?

Somewhere along the line, someone (was it you, David Blixt?) told me that Friar Laurence is a really bad guy who used two stupid lovestruck kids as pawns in his scheme to be the hero who ends the feud. When I go look in the text, however, all I really find is that one line of his where he tells Romeo “For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your households’ rancour to pure love.”

Where do you stand on Friar Laurence?  Is he to be completely forgiven?  A character who tried to do the right thing, for all the right reasons, and it just didn’t work out?  Or does he share in the blame for bringing it all down upon their heads? After all, what would have happened had he not married Romeo and Juliet?  Romeo had already shown that he was pretty fickle in the love department.  Nobody was dead at this point, nobody banished.  Would they both have just gotten over it?  Romeo’s impulsiveness could have been cut off at the pass real quick if Friar Laurence hadn’t enabled it.

What’s the Funniest Tragedy?

We’ve often discussed the fact that Romeo and Juliet, right up until Mercutio’s death, is a romantic comedy that suddenly goes very very badly.  Even the darkest plays have at least a couple of jokes thrown in (or do they?)  So let’s talk about that.  Among all the plays that are not supposed to be comedy, which one do you think is the funniest?

There’s multiple ways to look at this:

* Laughs where Shakespeare put them, and expected them.
* Laughs where a modern director found an opportunity to get a laugh.
* Laughs where the audience laughed, and probably wasn’t supposed to.

So let me rephrase it this way – which play do you think provides enough potential for the audience to walk away thinking, “Wow, I never expected to laugh that hard!”

I’ve seen a fair share of laughs in Othello, and Macbeth.  I didn’t laugh at Ralph Fiennes’ Coriolanus, but when I saw a production in Boston Common the lead character was so over the top snarky in his attitude toward everybody that I couldn’t help myself (although I also wanted to punch him).  I’ll be very surprised if King Lear makes this list.  Somebody remind me if there’s any funny bits in that one at all?