MacArthur? Arthurbeth?

This morning while getting ready for work, the kids had on an episode of “Arthur”, the animated series about a boy aardvark.  I’m only half paying attention as two characters are at the circus and visit the fortune teller.  Fast forward to them playing some sort of trick on a fellow classmate, who gets in trouble for it.  Fast forward to one of the original girls from the circus washing something off of her hands.  I don’t have time to say “Out, damned spot! Out I say!” before the character on screen says exactly that (minus the damned, of course). Neat.  Only then does it dawn on me that the episode opened with them being told their future by a fortune teller. Paying more attention now I piece together the plot – there’s some sort of student of the month contest, the “witch” has told the girls that they’ll win, and now they go about fixing the contest by getting the obvious king (“Brain”, the smart kid) disqualified. At this point there’s a scene where we get a close up on what appears to be a list of spelling words, and all I can think is that we’re going to see some version of the “Wherefore could not I say Amen?” scene, but it was not to be.  Besides, that would be silly – that scene clearly comes before the hand washing. 🙂

The episode is called “MacFrensky”, though I’m not quite sure why.

Be Not Afeared … Manuel!

Been in a Tempest mood lately, was looking for an example of Caliban’s dream speech, and found this little gem …

Fans of Fawlty Towers might recognize Trinculo as Andrew Sachs, the man who played our own lovable Manuel.  Poor guy, gets a beating every role he takes. (By the way, I was researching how that opening line is delivered, the “Be not afeared” part.  I like the way they did it here, how Caliban smiles when he tells it.)

Digging for Shakespeare?

Is anybody following the Dig For Shakespeare project? I mean, I want to be excited, and maybe I’m just too early, but so far I see references but not much of anything else.  People are more excited about the NotCardenio.For those who haven’t heard about the project, it’s an archaeological dig around New Place, Shakespeare’s final home.  They’re even selling tickets, which I think is a wonderful idea and I hope I’ve got some Stratford geeks who plan on going to have a look.But … that’s it?  The dig supposedly begins March 26 – two days from now – and the web site still just says “Full Site Coming Soon.”  Worse, they type worse that I do.  One sentence reads “mark a key milestone in the understanding of how the Stratford-upon-Avon” (whut?) while right below that on the next line, archaeological is spelled wrong.I hope they really do start on a Friday, because if it ends up as primarily a weekend thing I’m typically not behind the computer enough to stay on top of any news.

Falstaff, Briefly

Dropping off my kids at school today I was explaining to them about the standarized testing that the school is doing (for older grades) and said, “Don’t expect to see any Shakespeare on a test like that. You kids might understand some of it but nobody else would.” “I know,” says the 7yr old, “Like if they asked what play is Romeo from, I’d know that the answer is Romeo and Juliet.” “That’s an easy one,” I say, “Since he’s got his name right there in the name of the play.  But what if they asked about Falstaff?” “Who’s he?” “Oh, just another character in one of the plays.” “Yes, but who *is* he?” That got me stumped, as I’m now about about 3 seconds from where they need to be.  “He’s a funny fat guy,” I tell them, and say a silent prayer that the karma gods don’t give Harold Bloom a heart attack. This seems an acceptable summary to small children, however, and they go off to school laughing at the idea of  a Shakespearean funny fat guy.

A Word Is Worth A Thousand Pictures

At least, when Shakespeare writes it it is.The idea for this post didn’t really strike me until I started talking about The Tempest, but I can see supporting evidence in Playing Shakespeare.  Director Barton has just gone through the “Montjoy the herald” speech from Henry V, which is really a giant list of soldiers’ names, and he makes the comment, “It’s almost as if  Shakespeare intended each name to stand for five thousand men.”This weekend I was speaking with a director about staging The Tempest, and the power of an opening scene.  In particular, whether you can move the shipwreck.  As I read it, the idea was reinforced to me that there’s really not much there other than the words.  The wreck itself is surely not portrayed on stage.  In fact, if I had to reduce the entire wreck down to one line?

We’ve split, we’ve split! Farewell my wife and children!

Shakespeare doesn’t show us a shipwreck, but can’t you hear a shipwreck in that line?  I sure can.Or maybe you prefer Macbeth?

For brave Macbeth–well he deserves that name–
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour’s minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam’d him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix’d his head upon our battlements.

It’s not one line, no, but it sure paints a picture! We haven’t even met Macbeth at this point, but haven’t your expectations been set?My point is to just offer a little nod of acknowledgement and appreciation to the “Shakespeare as literature” way of thinking.  There are times, absolutely, when to read the words on a page you’re left scratching your head, and you need an actor to bring them to life.  But then there are those picture painting times, no matter how small, when a simple sequence of carefully chosen words can make the image explode upon your brain whenever you like.