Review: Commonwealth Shakespeare presents The Winter’s Tale on Boston Common

I want to say our Commonwealth Shakespeare streak continues, but we actually missed a show in 2019 when my mom was sick. Cymbeline, which I’ve never seen, but have no real personal feelings for. Other than that hiccup, the 2024 show marks 19 shows we’ve seen by this group at this location. We also missed back in 2005. Hamlet, which I’m still salty about.

I have no special love for The Winter’s Tale, a later and therefore lesser-known play, filled with difficult to pronounce characters (Autolycus? Perdita? Polixenes?) and the usual kitchen-sink of Shakespearean comedy switcheroos. I tend to only refer to it to make a rapidly aging joke about how it’s Shakespeare’s Maury Povich Show. Leontes, you are the father!

Seriously, though, quick plot summary for those who need it. This is really two plays smooshed together at the end. Leontes and Polixenes, kings of neighboring nations, are long time best friends. Leontes becomes paranoid that Polixenes got Leontes’ wife, Hermione, pregnant. Polixenes flees the country, Leontes jails his pregnant wife for treason. The Oracle says that Leontes is wrong, they’re innocent, Leontes still clings to his paranoid belief even after his son and wife both die of grief. He refuses to take care of his new baby daughter and demands that she be left somewhere to survive on her own if that’s what the gods want. That’s our first story.

The second half leaps forward 16 years — Shakespeare literally makes “Time” a character who comes out to talk to the audience — and we meet teenage Perdita, whose been raised by the kindle shepherd that found her. Perdita’s in love with Florizel, son of Polixenes. Polixenes is having none of it, however, as he will only allow his son to marry a princess. See where it’s all going? This is a Shakespearean comedy, so as I always tell people with a handwave, “hijinx ensue.” All is straightened out in the end, Perdita reunites with her father, she gets to be with Florizel because now we know she’s a princess … and oh hey look, Hermione comes back from the dead. That’s Shakespeare for you.

So how was this particular production? Let’s start with some pictures! Click on individual pictures to expand.

I quite loved it, honestly. I was afraid that my family would not be able to follow it very well, for all the reasons I listed above. You can barely figure out from moment to moment who is who, much less what’s happening. But from the opening scene, they had it just right. Leontes was clearly a jealous man driven to near insanity as his paranoia consumed him. It’s quite dark. We’re at a comedy, this king has been presented with his baby daughter, and he’s literally screaming, “Throw it in the fire.” The music was ominous. It was scary, as it perhaps should be, to set up the second half.

The women – Hermione and her friend Paulina – pretty much stole the show. Both did an outstanding job of standing on a stage full of men, knowing full well that they’re entirely powerless, and yet speaking their minds in full voice, with heads held high. You knew that they had been wronged, and waited for the men to get what was coming to them.

The longer I go with these the more uncomfortable I get because I don’t want to misrepresent anyone, or leave anyone out. So what I’ll do this year is leave a link to the play info so people can explore the individual artists’ stories in their own words rather than mine:

Farewell, Nurse! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/pat-heywood-dead-franco-zeffirelli-romeo-juliet-1235959069/

Pat Heywood, the veteran Scottish actress who made her film debut as Olivia Hussey’s nurse and confidant in Franco Zeffirelli’s adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, has died. She was 92.

For some, Zeffirelli’s version is the definitive movie adaptation, the one we were shown in school as our introduction to Shakespeare’s work. But for newer generations, it poses significant issues over the nudity of its young stars.

Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest, Ms. Heywood.

The Tempest is Better Than Hamlet

Hey, hey, hey now, put down your torches, I’m not the one that said it. This guy did.

Prospero and Ariel

I’ve had a challenging relationship with The Tempest for almost 20 years. It’s how I introduced my children to Shakespeare. I told it to them as a bedtime fairy tale. Once upon a time, a girl lived on a faraway island with her father, a powerful wizard. She learns from him that she is a long-lost princess who was banished here, with her father, by his enemies. One day, a ship runs ashore on their island, full of pirates set on seizing control of their island, but her father is far too powerful for them. Among the pirates, however, is a good man, a handsome prince, who marries her and takes her away to live happily ever after.

Did I skip a few steps? Sure. But we’re talking about a 5-year-old and her 3-year-old sister, and I had to make adjustments. My youngest was still a baby when we started this, and it’d be a few years before he asked for Hamlet. He tried King Lear once, but it made him sad. I’m not kidding.

The Big White Elephant In The Room

“But what about the whole colonialism thing?” I was asked right around the time Julie Taymor’s movie version came out. At the time, I answered honestly – I never really thought about it. To me, The Tempest can be read as the story of a father’s readiness to do anything for his daughter, including overcoming his desire for revenge.

But no one’s letting the colonialism thing go, and it’s only gotten more intense over the years. I don’t disagree that this is also the story of a powerful white man who showed up on land that wasn’t his, took one look at the creatures already living there, and said, “Mine. You’re all my slaves now.” That is also all true.

And, much like when a celebrity that’s been doing good things in the spotlight for decades suddenly has a clip surface of something they said once twenty years ago, Prospero is basically canceled. It wasn’t long before I saw articles arguing that he’s one of the worst fathers in Shakespeare. Sigh.

For years, I would answer the question, “What’s your favorite play?” with The Tempest because of the connection with my children. I stopped doing that. My children, now college-age, even stopped doing that. Because nobody wants to be attacked over it. You like that one? Therefore, you must agree with all historical instances of colonialism! That’s the only possible answer!

Where Does Hamlet Come Into This?

Richard Burton as Hamlet

I still regularly skim my headlines and news stories for Shakespeare content. When I (rarely) see a Tempest story, I always check it out to see if there’s anything we can talk about. This is a good one. The author, Joseph Bissex, wants to talk about forgiveness. The Tempest makes sense, but Hamlet? I don’t think I’ve ever, to this moment, thought of Hamlet as a play with any forgiveness to be found or deserved. Claudius killed his father. We’ll assume for the sake of argument that this is a proven point and not still up for debate. There’s an audience that wants Hamlet to forgive him for that?

Prospero’s enemies actually didn’t kill anybody. I realize that was their intent, and it was only through Gonzago’s aid that they survived. But they did survive.

Here, the author focuses on Hamlet’s line to Ophelia, “Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.” In that moment he sees her as a fair creature and asks her to pray for him. To Bissex, this is the crucial moment. Hamlet should have stopped right there. He hasn’t killed anybody yet. He should (my words) leave them all to heaven. We could have ended up in a comedy with a marriage at the end (his words).

I don’t really think The Tempest is better than Hamlet. Much of that is because of the magic element. The most interesting thing about Shakespeare to me is the depiction of human nature. Despite the royalty, swordfight and fine, ghost, it’s a more accurate and in-depth depiction of human relationships than one about magic spirits, even if I do like the father/daughter dynamic more for obvious reasons.

But this angle is an interesting comparison that you don’t typically see.

Trigger Warning: Contains Trigger Warnings

When my kids were young, I quickly learned about the Parents’ Guide section of IMDB. For any given movie or TV show, you can find out exactly what kind of sex and violence is in it and decide as a parent whether you want to watch it with your kids or have your kids watch it. Everybody’s got their own rules for that kind of thing. Kids come in all different ages and sensibilities.

Warning!

I was mainly looking to rule out too much sex and violence. But that’s just my house. I wasn’t crazy about salty language, but I wouldn’t ban a movie from the house because of it. I used to laugh at how people would count the number of times that “g_ddamn” was used or “the lord’s name.” But I suppose fair’s fair, that’s important to some people, too. Then they started counting things like whether the bad guy smoked.

I never really thought of these as trigger warnings, but I guess that’s what they were. The difference is that the movie didn’t lead with them. I, as a parent, chose to seek them out. They don’t pop up in front of me before my movie starts like some EULA disclaimer when I’m installing software. “This movie contains people smoking. Check here to confirm that you’re not offended by this.”

You perhaps see where I’m going with this. The Globe has doubled down hard on trigger warnings lately, including:

  •  ‘depictions of war, self-harm and suicide, stage blood and weapons including knives.’
  • ‘language of violence, sexual references, misogyny, and racism’.

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-13642267/globe-theatre-trigger-warning-shakespeare-antony-cleopatra.html

I’m with Gregory Doran, who hates them, and Ralph Fiennes, who thinks audiences have become “too soft.” If somebody doesn’t already know the content of a Shakespeare play, and worries about these things, it takes no time to search online for the information. Maybe we should put an AI in charge of answering precisely this kind of question.

There’s an irony here that kills me (trigger warning). Shakespeare is supposed to portray what it means to be human. I often tell people variations on the idea that “the whole of human emotion is at one point or another depicted in the complete works of Shakespeare.” And in real life, there’s violence, hatred, and people dying. Thinking that you can avoid these things by being alerted about every optional fictional situation that contains them, you’re surely missing the bigger problem. Shakespeare also shows us how to deal with those things. It doesn’t glorify the violence and the hatred. It holds a mirror up to nature so we can see how horrible it is for ourselves and gives us time to think about it instead of pretending that it doesn’t exist.

Shakespeare makes life better. You may have heard me say that once or twice. It’s sad to believe people think they’re doing the right thing by coming up with reasons to have less Shakespeare.

Check your stacks! Nashville woman’s copy of the sonnets worth thousands on Antiques Roadshow

Shakespeare Sonnet Books

Off the top of my head right now I couldn’t tell you how many copies of Shakespeare’s sonnets I have. I get them for review, people give them to me as gifts. A common topic on the Reddit Shakespeare sub is, “How much is my copy of the sonnets worth?” And the answer is, typically, not much. Shakespeare has been published by a lot of different sources over a lot of years. It’s hardly rare and thus scarcely valuable.

Unless it’s one of only twelve copies of the 1899 Roycroft Press edition printed on vellum. In this case, according to the experts at Antiques Roadshow, it is worth up to $10,000.

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-13633273/nashville-antiques-roadshow-value-rare-copy-william-shakespeare-sonnets.html

So maybe there are some needles in those haystacks after all? Given that I just lost my job, perhaps I have to look through those stacks of mine and see if any Elizabethan lottery tickets are waiting for me!