So I’ve been poking around Henslowe’s diary because I think my kids would find it cool that part of their inventory included an invisibility cloak (“a robe for to goo invisibell”).  Along the way I spotted this:

Which, if I translate it correctly, says that Henslowe lent money to Thomas Dowton (on May 2) to buy a robe to play “the lyfe of arthure.”  As in King Arthur?

We had a discussion once upon a time about why Shakespeare never wrote about King Arthur, and who else might have been writing about that legend at the time. I don’t see this play (or playwright?) mentioned.

Just thought it curious.  This excerpt has even more detail about that particular play:

I just noticed that right before the “lyfe of arthure” payment there is a full payment to Mr. Hathaway for the “booke of Kyng Arthore”.  Neat stuff!

Watching bits and pieces of Olivier’s Hamlet this afternoon, just like I said I was going to do. I happened upon the “Get thee to a nunnery” scene.  As I write this I hear “To be or not to be” in the background so I’m forced to assume that Olivier flipped these scenes?

Anyway, back to Ophelia. This is quite possibly my favorite scene of the play, at least as far as dissecting Hamlet’s madness. I once collected every video interpretation of this scene I could find, to see how differently it has been played.  (Unfortunately some of the links in that post have been removed, just so you know.)

What is Hamlet’s relationship to Ophelia at this moment? Is he thinking that she’s turned on him as well? That she’s just a pawn being manipulated by her father? Is he putting on a show for the men behind the curtain, or does he mean what he’s saying? How far do his feelings for his mother at this moment extend toward all women (“Frailty thy name is woman?”) and thus toward Ophelia?

My title comes from the last line of the scene, as Olivier delivers it.  Ophelia is on the floor (where he’s thrown her), weeping inconsolably.  He leans over, kisses her hair, and says “To a nunnery, go,” and exits.  It almost sounds like, “The world is full of horrible horrible people doing horrible things, and you above all others I’d want to protect from that.” That’s most certainly not said for the benefit of Claudius and Polonius, and it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from someone “who loved her not.”

What caught my attention enough to post this was the article’s mention that she quotes The Tempest in her acceptance speech:

And all those incredibly carnival of characters that march into battle on any film – I thank you all, it has been an amazing journey up to now. I’m going to finish with the words of a great writer. 

‘Our revels now are ended. These our actors. As I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air; And, like the baseless fabric of this vision. The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself. 

‘Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; And, like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.’

Something is missing from this article, though, which goes on to talk about past BAFTA winners, and what Dame Helen was wearing.  There’s not even one mention of the fact that she portrayed Prospero and delivered that speech on film even more recently than she portrayed the Queen!

They’ve still got openings for extras in the upcoming film Bill, described by writer Laurence Rickard as “a tale of murderous kings” and “a plot to blow up Queen Elizabeth”, that explores how Shakespeare went from unknown lute player to famous playwright.  “The joy of the lost years is we can tell a fun story without trampling on the facts. It gives us licence to take William Shakespeare on a truly ridiculous caper, yet end with him becoming the man the world knows.”

I wonder if I’ll ever see this one come up again or it’ll just sort of disappear into obscurity.

Show of hands, who recognizes the magician duo Penn & Teller?

Ok, who knew that Teller is a Shakespeare scholar who has already directed Macbeth?

I just found out that he’s doing The Tempest this summer. I wonder if it will be filmed like the Macbeth was?  I’ll have to keep an eye on the calendar and see if I can’t get to this one.

The fascinating thing about Teller’s stage productions, if you hadn’t guessed, is that they include actual magic into the production. Which would explain why he started with Macbeth, of course, and why he’s tackling The Tempest next.

What other Shakespeare play should be on his hit list?  Something with more ghosts?  Or maybe something with fairies?  He obviously likes to work with the dark stuff (the article quotes him as going for a “dark kind of sideshow” vibe with his conjoined twin Caliban).  Has anybody done a dark Midsummer?