http://jfargo.livejournal.com/512603.html I’d never considered that “line reader” was a job unto itself, but it seems pretty darned important when you think about it.  I wonder if the line reader is charged with monitoring proper pronunciation and timing as well, or just missing words?

http://www.readertravels.com/2008/10/o-high-school/ So I marked the above link, thinking it to be some reference or discussion of “O”, the high school version of Othello.  What I found was a new reference – to the Quentin Tarantino favorite Switchblade Sisters, a cheesy 1970s exploitation flick that also happens to be a retelling of Othello. Huh? I’m still trying to make the connection, but apparently it’s not without merit.  From one of the Amazon reviews; Believe it or not, Switchblade Sisters is a neo-futuristic retelling of Shakespeare’s “Othello.” And it is so much cooler than the Josh Hartnett vehicle, “O.” The movie opens with a girl gang called The Dagger Debs, the counterparts to the male gang, The Silver Daggers. The Debs’ leader, Lace, (the “Othello” character, for those of you paying attention) is brilliantly played with much gusto by Robbie Lee. Her boyfriend is the leader of the Silver Daggers, Dominic.
The Daggers and their Debs are chillin’ in a fast food joint when they notice a blond babe who won’t leave “their” table. They hassle her, but to their surprise, she impressively defends herself. Her name is Maggie, and after they do a little jail time together, she and Lace forge a fast friendship.
Lace isn’t the only one Maggie has impressed, however. Lace’s boyfriend Dom is after her. Maggie admits that she has feelings for Dom, but would never betray Lace. This is just enough for Patch (aka Yago) to use to manipulate Lace into believing that Maggie is her enemy. I particularly like the spelling of “Iago” as “Yago.”  Sounds very Clockwork Orange.  “Come and get one in the yagos, if you have any yagos, you eunuch jelly thou!”

http://musicmazaa.com/hindi/news/fullstory/4015/”I+am+a+Shakespearean+fan”+-+Anjori.html There’s nothing really special in this brief interview – I don’t know who this person is, or what she’s famous for.  But it caught my attention for mention of her thesis: “I studied the character of Portia very minutely. It was also one of the characters that had qualities which one could easily relate to. Those who have read Othello will admit that they see themselves in Portia.” This of course says nothing about her thesis.  Personally I’ve never really thought much about Portia at all. Any Othello fans in the audience want to elaborate on what sorts of things she may have discussed in her thesis? [Work with me, people.  It’s Saturday afternoon and I’m trying to look for a wider variety of material. :)]

The good folks over at Harry N. Abrams, Inc were nice enough to send me some review copies of their Manga Shakespeare series that I blogged about recently.  As I told Laura (who sent them), once I pry them out of my kids’ hands I’ll get reviews up and then probably give them away to you folks. But until then I thought you’d get a kick out of this story. One of the books was The Tempest, of course (I ask for that one special :)).  Forgetting I had it last night, I leave it on the kitchen table at my daughter’s chair, so she’ll see it in the morning.  This morning it is the 4yr old (Elizabeth) down first, and I tell her, “There’s a surprise waiting for you at the table.  You have to share it with your sister.” “Do I have to close my eyes?” she asks. “No, not really,” I say. A few minutes go by as I pack up my bag to head in to work, and I don’t hear anything.  I go into the kitchen where my 4yr old is standing there, expectantly, with her eyes closed.  So I take the book, hold it in front of her face and tell her to open her eyes.  “What is it?” she asks. “This is the story about the girl on the island,” I tell her (and her sister, who has come up rapidly behind when she realizes there are surprises).  “One of Daddy’s friends on the internet sent it.” “Oh, The Tempest?” asks the 4 yr old.  It always amazes me when Shakespearean stuff flows so naturally out of their mouths. As the 6yr old gets ready for school, the 4yr old goes off to read.  Well, to look at the pictures.  In a minute I hear, “Is this Miranda?”  I go in the room and she’s pointing to one of the characters who, as far as I know, is Miranda. I tell her so. The morning ritual continues, I’m trying to make myself a lunch, get breakfasts, all that sort of thing.  Then I hear, “I found Shakespeare, Daddy!”  Odd, I think, since he’s not actually in the story.  “He’s on the back page.”  Oh. I can only imagine what will be waiting to tackle me when I get home from work. 🙂

So I finally got around to watching this ultra-violent Australian adaptation of Macbeth.  I actually won it in a contest, but then the DVD that arrived was not compatible with my player and I forgot all about it…until I learned a few geeky tricks and magically figured out a way how to play it :). It’s easy to compare this modern interpretation to Luhrman’s R+J.  In fact I think it’s part of the press to say exactly that – this one will do for Macbeth what Luhrman did for the other one. Meh.  There are times when it’s better compared to something like a Pulp Fiction.  Plenty of blood to go around, and whenever one character approaches another you’re never quite sure if somebody’s about to draw a gun or knife, and use it promptly. The story opens with the witches, portrayed as triplet girls in Catholic schoolgirl uniforms (I think that’s what they were), defacing a graveyard.  So it’s gonna be like that, is it?  (Whenever we see the witches again they’re mostly naked, and it’s more or less an orgy sequence.) We then cut to the Macbeths, mourning at the grave of their son.  Well there you go, there’s a question not often answered.  The plot seems to be one of gangland warfare.  There are meetings in alleys, briefcases of money, and lots and lots of shooting each other.  Everybody’s got rich fancy toys, and there are plenty of opportunities to work in security cameras and other interesting shots.  For a play that contains a great deal of paranoia, this works well.  You always feel like somebody is watching somebody else.  Some directorial choices I liked – like actually watching Macbeth kill not just Duncan, but the guards as well.  Often that is done off screen.  The acting in particular is quite flat, for both Macbeths as well as most of the supporting cast.  The Banquo’s ghost at the table scene in particular was surprisingly flat.  There’s a great bit of shock thrown in, but that was almost something out of a horror movie, not what I’d call intepretation of the text.  There’s no chemistry between anybody at all, and when Macbeth delivers lines like “She should have died hereafter” at his wife’s death (including gratuitous nude scene), he says it like he’s delivering the weather report. As always with Macbeth, I like to pay particular attention to the ending.  I figure there’s enough material in Macbeth’s descent to make or break the whole movie.  Does Macbeth come off like he’s full-on insane?  Like some crazy immortal god walking among his enemies without fear?  Yes and no.  During the “storming of the castle”, he’s freaked out just like everybody else.  Lots of ducking and running.  This sequence in general is done well for the big picture – it’s basically a slow motion massacre with a soundtrack and lots of lasers (maybe a little too much on the lasers).  But when the actual sound kicks back in and it’s focused on Macbeth again, he shows himself to be just a wee bit insane (including a quick dance number, believe it or not).  He does hit it right, briefly, while fighting with Macduff.  That sort of crazy confidence of being in a knife fight with somebody and knowing you can’t be killed.  That is, until you go and get yourself killed.  It’s that time in between – that realization that you’re not immortal – where different Macbeths really either succeed or fail. But then they have to go and ruin it by changing the ending. Yeah, you read that right. I don’t want to put in spoilers, but let’s just say that our hero does not get in as many last words as he normally does.  At all.  Like, none.  No “Lay on Macduff”, no throwing the warlike shield upon the ground, no baited with the rabble’s curse.  All out.  There’s definitely some creative interpretation that takes place at the end, and I can see what the director was going for.  But man, how do you cut out what is basically the best part?