Review : Still Time, by Jean Hegland

Storm still.

Author Jean Hegland knows how to pitch a Shakespeare geek. She told me that her latest novel, Still Time, was “about a Shakespeare scholar struggling with dementia who is trying to come to terms with his life even as his estranged daughter (an aspiring video game designer named Miranda) is attempting to reconcile with him.

I told her that the Lear/Prospero crossover was going to get me all misty-eyed even thinking about it.  The whole “video game designer” thing is just a bonus for my computer programmer life 🙂

I’m not going to lie. This is a difficult book to read.  It opens, for heaven’s sake, with a wife explaining to her husband why she has to put him in a nursing home.  It opens with that. There’s not going to be any “happily ever after” here when you start like that.

Look, I’ve always said that Shakespeare means different things to you depending on where you are in life. The entirety of human emotion is, at one point or another, played out on Shakespeare’s stage.  When we say he wrote the recipe for what it means to be human, he didn’t leave out any chapters.

There will come a time in everyone’s life when they have to experience the closing act.  Maybe it’s for your parents, or your grandparents, or yourself.  It’s never a fun topic to think about because, as I said, we know how it ends, and it’s not going to be happy. But there is oh so much Shakespeare to help us through it.

That is exactly what this novel wants to do. It strikes such a personal chord that I counted half a dozen moments (at least!) that come straight out of my life. But you have to take the good with the bad. When he complains of no longer being able to organize his thoughts clearly in his head, how brilliant large-scale theories come to him so frequently but yet he can’t seem to pull them together coherently when he attempts to write them down, I know exactly what he means and fear that it will only get worse. When he realizes that he’s forgotten the ending to King Lear, it is heartbreaking as I simultaneously imagine what that must be like while I pray that I never learn.

Structurally speaking, this is not the kind of book I usually read. One of the reasons that I love Shakespeare is that I believe in dialogue-driven character development.  I could read an entire novel of nothing but people talking to each other as long as I didn’t lose track of the pronouns.  This is a novel about the thoughts of a man alone in a nursing home, and I admit to skimming at times, waiting for a visitor to show up so people could start speaking out loud.  There is a plot – we do learn about his estranged daughter and what’s going on in her life, all mapped against musings of the theme of forgiveness and second chances in Shakespeare’s late plays.  But when you put one character who speaks in snippets of Shakespeare into a conversation with a character who actively denies them, there had better be some depth in that other character. I didn’t see it.  Maybe that’s yet another personal chord, giving me a glimpse into a future where I don’t understand what is important in my children’s lives and why what is important to me is not important to them.

That’s perhaps the most compelling thing I can say about this book – not only does everything that happens map back to Shakespeare, but it maps back to me.  Chances are, you’re going to feel the same way. Whenever people want to whine about the relevance of Shakespeare today, this is what we try to explain.  Everybody gets older, everybody has regrets, everybody wishes for the chance for reconciliation and forgiveness.  Shakespeare knew that. Jean Hegland knows that.

At the time of this writing I have not finished the book. I am honestly afraid of how it ends.  I know that Winter’s Tale and Tempest manage to pull off a happy ending, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

Buy Still Time by Jean Hegland on Amazon Now

Review : The Fosters – Romeo and Juliet

I think I would have liked this show 20 or 30 years ago.  When I was closer to high school. This just made me feel old.

Look, every sitcom in history that’s had anything to do with a high school or high school aged students, from Head of the Class to The Brady Bunch, has at one point or another done a Romeo and Juliet episode. But not too many attempt to pull off a rock musical version.  Not only that, they had alumni from High School Musical and Glee helping out (including Corbin Bleu as Mercutio).  So I wanted to have high hopes.

As always, and I think seriously this has become my trademark, my review is this:  “Needs more Shakespeare.”

I don’t know the show, or the characters, or their arcs. So I’m sure that I missed the lion’s share of the significance of what else was going on, who kissed who, who used to be a couple but broke up and are now on stage together. But you know what? This is where I feel old.  Because I didn’t care.  I just wanted to hear the text.

It started out well, singing the prologue to piano accompaniment. The song itself wasn’t that good, but I applaud the effort.  But just about all the other songs had little to no text in them, and instead were focused on this theme of being “unbreakable” and/or “unstoppable”, whatever significance that is supposed to have, and also how “love will light the way.”  There’s a token reference to jesting at scars that never felt a wound, which is a repeated lyric in one of the songs, but out of context it’s just kind of hanging there.

Meanwhile there’s a whole other story arc going on that just reminded me that these people are closer to my kids’ age than my own.  Example?  Ok, picture this.  Set against the backdrop of SHAKESPEARE, here’s some actual dialogue:

“I’m still in love with you!”
“Then why didn’t you answer my note?”
“What note?”
“I left a note in your backpack.”
“I never got it. What did it say?”
“That I’m in love with you too.”

Whoa.  I’ve got to sit down for a minute. For a brief minute there I got a kick out of the parallel of an important letter gone unread, but I couldn’t get over the overly dramatic dialogue over something so childish.  But then I suppose if I’d let my kids watch this show they would have thought it’s the greatest thing in the world.

Oh, well.  I’ll still probably try to download some of the songs again to see if full versions are available, and if they do more justice to the text than I first noticed.  But I’m pretty sure it’s not going to knock off Hamilton anytime soon.

 

Review : Station 11

Back in college (which would be about 25 years ago, for reference) I worked at the local supermarket as the head cashier.  I was just coming to discover my love of Shakespeare so I was anxious to talk about the subject with whomever might be interested (who am I kidding, I still do that ;)).  One of the cashiers was a retired English teacher, so I asked her if she was a fan of Shakespeare. What she said to me has stuck with me all these years.  She told me, “If human civilization were to be wiped out tomorrow, and only a single book remained to represent what once was, that book should be King Lear.”

Station 11 makes me wonder whether the author was checking out on aisle 4 when we had that conversation, because that’s pretty much the story. We open with a production of King Lear where the lead character drops dead of a heart attack on stage.  (Why is it always Lear when that happens? I could swear I’ve got memory of at least three different Lear-dies-on-stage stories).  Anyway, it also just so happens that this night is the outbreak of the “Georgia flu”, an epidemic that quickly decimates 99% of the world’s population.

Cut quickly to twenty years in the future, when all the gasoline is gone and cars have been turned into hollowed out metal chassis pulled by horses. A caravan of traveling players roams the countryside, going from village to village performing classical music and … you guessed it, Shakespeare. Why, in a world where people are trying to rediscover the basic skills needed to survive, are they still performing Shakespeare? Because the people want to remember the best of what it was to be human.

I love that.  I think I’ve got the quote wrong, as I listened on audiobook and can’t easily find it again, but it captures the essence of what we’ve always talked about here.  Shakespeare makes life better, and it does so by holding a mirror up to our own nature.

How’s the book?  Not bad.  It’s certainly not the first to do the “99% of the population is wiped out” story, notably thinking of Stephen King’s The Stand as a defining example of that genre.  I was a little disappointed in the author’s belief that technology could be wiped out so quickly.  After twenty years,  nobody’s got the electricity up and running again? In the span of less than a life time they’ve forgotten about how computers used to work? I don’t buy it. I much prefer the stories where, when technology is forced to take a step backward, humanity gathers its forces to move it forward again.

But this isn’t a technology story and doesn’t claim to be (go read Kurt Vonnegut’s Player Piano or the aforementioned The Stand if you want that). This story is about the eternal transformative nature of literature and how it can change the world. There’s a particular book that keeps coming up again and again, before the plague and after, and only once you’ve understood who touched the book and when does the story all fall into place.

As always with stories like this there’s not enough Shakespeare for me, but what can you do. I can tell you that I was looking for the sequel before I’d even finished the first one.  Alas, there’s not a sequel.

Review : Kurzel Macbeth (2015)

How long have we been waiting for this movie?  I first wrote about it (when it was rumored that Natalie Portman would play Lady Macbeth) in April 2013, two and a half years ago. Was it worth the wait?

I think it’s difficult to review movie versions of Shakespeare plays, because there’s the inevitable clash of expectations between what the viewer wants to see, and the story the director wants to tell. When we go see a staged Shakespeare, we pretty much always get the story we expected, with the only real room for interpretation coming in the characters, rather than the action.  Moviemakers seem far more likely to say “Ok, I’m going to take the Shakespeare story up to this point, but then I’m going to do my own thing.”

This version is definitely one of those. While watching there were at least three instances where I made this face:

(* Yes I know precisely the context for that original image, that’s why it’s funny 😉

I don’t really want to give spoilers, but let me put it this way – this Macbeth likes to kill people in front of other people. It’s not just that there are witnesses, either. At one point he makes it a public spectacle.  Yeah.  The film clearly goes right for the “Macbeth is crazy and everybody knows it, but he’s also the king now so what are ya gonna do?” vibe pretty much immediately.  I suppose it’s a way to go, but it was certainly different from what I’m used to seeing.

I’m not a fan of the directorial style, either, which has got a lot of 300 going for it, if you remember that movie.  When a sword hits a body, expect to switch to slow motion so you can watch the blood fly.  Then switch back to fast forward to get the audience nauseous.  I could actually live with the nauseating camera work, especially during the battle scenes, because isn’t chaos kind of the point?  I don’t really go to movies to say, “Oh, cool, look what the director chose to do there.”  It’s like special effects – the best choices are the ones that make you forget you’re watching a movie at all, rather than reminding you of it.

Speaking quickly about special effects – there are none. In this movie about witches and ghosts, there are no sudden apparitions, appearances or disappearances. The witches just kind of wander in, say their thing, then wander out. Which is a way to go,  I suppose, but then we cut to Macbeth running down a hill saying, “DID YOU SEE WHERE THEY WENT? THEY JUST VANISHED!”  Really? You lost them that fast? It was almost a weird throwback to what you might see on stage where the actors really do have to exit the old fashioned way.  Only … have you seen Teller’s Macbeth? I’ve seen witches disappear on stage. It’s pretty cool.

There’s also no ghosts to speak of.  I mean, they’re there, but they’re just played by the exact same actors with no change in physical appearance.  Again, it’s an interesting way to go – I guess it’s supposed to reinforce the idea that, to Macbeth, they’re real? But for a movie that’s ok with all the slow motion / fast forward / blood spattery things, it just felt lazy to me that they didn’t do *something* with the idea. Are we supposed to be seeing the world as Macbeth sees it? Or seeing Macbeth as the world sees him?  I don’t think you can have both at the same time.

Ok, let’s get to some good stuff, because there is some.

There’s children everywhere. You’ve probably read in other reviews that the movie opens (as do many interpretations) with the funeral for the Macbeths’ child. We then switch over to a scene that I thought was something right out of Henry V as Macbeth and his battle-hardened warriors (who have been so made up with injury that they look like orcs out of a Lord of the Rings movie, by the way) come to meet the reinforcements that Duncan has sent them … and they’re all pretty much children. So Macbeth and the others prepare the new soldiers for battle, teaching them how to properly prepare their weapons, painting their faces with war paint, and you and Macbeth know full well that most of these kids are about to die really badly. This bookends nicely at the end of the movie when Macbeth sees the progression of ghosts – the same children that he took into battle at the beginning.

But that’s not all. We see Banquo with Fleance (obviously), but we also see Macduff with his children on several occasions. There’s even one scene where Macbeth wanders through camp and stops to interact with some children playing.  Maybe it was a bit heavy handed, but I liked it.

Now let’s talk about the Macbeths. They’ve been called one of the greatest couples in all of Shakespeare’s works. Just watching the two of them can be fascinating, and we can let all the other weirdness with changing the plot slide.

It took about two sentences for me to think, “Ok, Lady Macbeth is nuts.”  Seriously. I don’t have the original text memorized to the point where I know how much was cut, she goes from zero to sixty in a single scene:

Macbeth:  “Honey, I’m home from battle. The king’s coming to dinner.”
Lady M: “Let’s kill him.”
Macbeth: “WTF?”

I’m being a bit facetious there obviously, but only a bit. The pacing feels like it’s been sped up, and it works.  Everything in the first half moves very quickly, and Lady M is the driving force. They don’t cut Macbeth’s uncertainty, or his wife’s “Are you a man?” speech.

Here’s where it gets really interesting, though. After “it’s done,” Lady M seems satisfied. So when her husband tells her that Banquo has to go, she starts to worry, and keeps trying to tell him that it’s over, it’s done, they got what they wanted. But she realizes quickly that she’s created a monster that she cannot control. She’s completely helpless in the second part of the movie, and can really do no more than beg her husband to leave well enough alone, but he doesn’t listen to her.  The line “What’s done is done” is repeated several times, to emphasize the point. She started it, she wanted it over, but she could not be the one to say when it would be over. So when she loses her mind, we understand why.

Let’s talk a bit about the ending. I’ve always thought the end is one of the best parts. How will the “Lay on, Macduff” line play out? Is Macbeth still trying to win? Has he resigned himself to the inevitable? I’ve often wondered, does he truly believe he’s immortal at this point? If so, that makes his “at least we’ll die with harness on our back” line a little unusual.  Unless you figure that he’s just saying that to motivate his troops.

True to the rest of the movie, the final battle is over the top violent. There’s no old fashioned “run through with a sword” move. It’s all a slice here and a gash there, and you wonder when one of them is just going to fall down from blood loss. That detracts from the scene in my opinion, because as the climax of the movie the director wants to make it last, but the longer it lasts the less realistic it looks.

I won’t spoil how it goes down, but I will say that I was ok with it. It’s different. Didn’t love it, but I get it.

Speaking of which … there’s an entirely separate ending that the director adds to this one, that Shakespeare did not write. So when you think it’s done, there’s still a few more minutes.  Eh. Nice touch, I suppose, but I found it completely unnecessary unless we should expect Macbeth 2 next summer.

I’ll end with two trivial things that drove me a little crazy.  First, the porter scene is cut, but this makes sense based on how they set the play. What annoyed me is that later in the play, Lady M still has her, “There’s a knocking at the gate!” line. Sure, she’s crazy, she’s hallucinating. But when you’ve made it a point to give us a setting where the whole idea of “gate” is not relevant, why leave that line in there? Maybe we can shrug and say it’s supposed to be some sort of “knocking at the gates of hell” thing.

The second one is just lazy in my view. We know that Banquo’s going to die and Fleance escapes, right? That’s not a spoiler. Ok, here’s the thing. Banquo goes down via crossbow.  And Fleance runs away.

Banquo goes down via crossbow, and Fleance runs away.

That bug anybody else? Hey, assassins, you’ve got a long range weapon and have just demonstrated your accuracy with it. How about shooting at the fleeing enemy, instead of chasing and losing him? At least shoot and miss, to let the audience know that you didn’t forget you have it.  I said before that I don’t like when the director reminds me I’m watching a movie, and this is one of those examples. They clearly went with the arrow so we could get a jump scare rather than a confrontation. But if you’re going to establish that the bad guys have that weapon, you have to be consistent!

Ok, I’m done. As with any Shakespeare there were parts I liked, but in general I can’t say I loved it. I’m glad I did not bring my wife. It’s not the kind of thing that I’ll show the kids when it comes out on DVD (apparently they’re already taking pre-orders).  Years down the road when we compare notes about Shakespearean film adaptations and people talk about the McKellen/Dench Macbeth, or Patrick Stewart’s, I don’t think anybody’s going to be talking about this one.

Review : Commonwealth Shakespeare’s King Lear on Boston Common 2015 (Part 2)

[The tale begins here!]

Ok, where was I?  We did Goneril, right?  Regan.  Regan is just the right partner for Goneril. She’s shorter (shorter hair as well, for what that matters) but manages to give off an older sister vibe, like she should be the one in charge. She comes off as smarter, definitely – but it’s Goneril that you want to curb stomp at the end of the night.

What of the husbands? Just right. Albany is appropriately mousey in the beginning while Goneril walks all over him, but then has a change of heart and takes over in the later scenes. Cornwall is … well, he’s insane. Early on he needs to establish that he’s the kind of guy that can rip another man’s eyes out with his bare hands, and that’s exactly what he does in spades. We’re scared of him long before he learns about Gloucester, so not only do you know what’s coming, you totally believe what’s coming.

How was the scene, you ask?  Pretty gross. From our vantage point I unfortunately plainly saw Cornwall reach into his costume for a blood pellet, but man was there a lot of blood. He even whipped his hand back to get a nice spurting effect that you could see from a distance. When Gloucester’s face can be seen again, half his face is covered in blood.

How was Gloucester? I liked him, but it’s not like he drives the play. He was played by Fred Sullivan, the company’s comedy star, so sometime’s it’s tricky to see him in a serious role. He even got the occasional laugh, even after he was blinded, if you can believe that. His exchanges with Tom/Edgar as he’s being led to the cliff are funnier than I realized.  “Wait, didn’t your voice change? It seems like you’re speaking more normally now.”

Edgar.  Much like the Fool, I haven’t always understood half of what Poor Tom says.  But Edgar did a spectacular job of talking to the audience – doesn’t he have a line of some sort that basically says, “If I cry to see what’s become of the king I’m going to ruin my disguise”?  He plays off of Lear wonderfully, especially when he howls to the moon and Lear howls right along with him. I don’t love the final battle with his brother Edmund, but that has more to do with what I’ve always considered relatively poor stage combat by this group.

That leaves Cordelia and Lear, who I can talk about together. The first scene, as I mentioned, isn’t what I expected. Cordelia’s been portrayed as the equal of her sisters, so when she says “Nothing” there doesn’t seem to be much fear in it, like she’s afraid to say it (although her lines indicate that this is what she’s supposed to be thinking). Instead I felt like her response was more, “Nothing. There’s my answer. I know you don’t like it, but that’s the way it is.” She doesn’t like that she has to say it, but she doesn’t hesitate either, if that makes sense.

Which leads to another unfortunate problem.  Cordelia is a relatively big girl.  Not fat, but not a little waif, either.  So for the big climax? Lear can’t carry her. As they enter he’s only got one of her legs, and the other sort of drags along the ground as Lear walks. I don’t really know what they were thinking there. I wonder if it would have worked to just have him dragging her body, like he is literally using the last energy in his body to do it? I don’t know, it just didn’t work. I did not get “This father is trying and failing to carry his daughter,” I got “This actor can’t carry this actress.”

Now, Lear.

How do you explain Lear?  I could do a series of posts entirely on Lear.  I thought he was amazing. I loved him in the storm, I loved him interacting with Poor Tom, I loved his back and forth with the Fool. I think that my favorite scene is the “Why is my man in the stocks?” scene, whichever that is. The way he just has to confront, all at once, that he no longer has any power is … well, amazing. In the early scenes when Lear had to repeat himself you definitely felt like heads were going to roll if somebody didn’t jump (and people did jump). Now he’s got nothing, He wants to speak with his daughter, but she won’t come. He demands to know who put his man in the stocks, and no one will answer him. The way his voice changes during the scene as he asks this question again and again, how he wails in frustration that he cannot get a simple answer to his question, really drove the point home.  Then he has to go back and forth between his daughters with the math problem – “I can only have 50 followers with you? Fine, I’ll go with her so I can have 100…I can’t have 100 with you? I can only have 25? Fine, I’ll go with her and take my 50…what, I can’t have 50 either? I can’t have any?” These are his daughters, and they just destroy him in this scene, all while telling themselves that they haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just spectacular all around.

(Funny story, if a bit non sequitur? My son is 9, my daughter 11. Well, my daughter had a friend over, and they were all playing nicely together. My son gets the idea that maybe they can walk down to the corner store and get a snack.  The girls agree that this is a good idea and they go to ask permission from my wife, who has to explain that while the 11yr olds are old enough to go, my son is too young and cannot (had my older daughter been home to chaperone they all could have gone). So to see him go from the joy of “I suggested something to do and everybody agreed it was a good idea” to “they can go but I am not allowed” just crushed him. The helplessness of the situation was radiating off of him.  I feel like that for Lear in this scene. Once upon a time he was the king, and everything he said was law. Now people are just plain ignoring what he says, and he can’t comprehend what just happened.

For the record, when my oldest daughter returned from camp they did all go down to the store for a snack, so the situation was remedied a bit. Didn’t want people to think this was an entirely sad story. 🙂  Anyway, back to Lear!)

What of his madness? It was hard to pity him because he was having so much fun, honestly. He howls at the moon with poor Tom, he passes out flowers, he makes the soldiers chase him. The characters around him of course watch his descent in horror and have no idea what to do with themselves. After the trial when they finally get him to sleep, only to wake him up and move him, you feel Kent’s helplessness that they can’t even give him that little comfort.

The big ending didn’t move me as much as I’d hoped. I’ve mentioned before that I still can’t really watch Olivier’s version of this scene, especially when he gets to the “Cordelia?  Stay a little…” line. This wasn’t that. When you’ve got a Cordelia that’s basically the same size as you and you struggled to get her on stage, lines like “Her voice was ever soft, gentle and low…” just don’t really work.

One thing seemed different, that I liked. Lear’s actual last words are “Look, her lips, look there, look there” and I’ve always taken that to mean he is staring at her face, watching for signs of life, and convinces himself in the last moment that she still breathes.  That’s not what they did here.  This time Lear is staring straight off in space (they may have even skipped the  “her lips” bit, I can’t remember) so when he delivers the “look there” lines he’s clearly looking at something none of the others can see. Is it Cordelia’s spirit calling to him? I think it must have been. Either way his last thought is a happy one.

So I loved it, did I mention that? One last funny story. As we were leaving, somebody with a video camera asked if we’d be willing to do a quick video testimonial. Sure, why not? They shoved a microphone in my hand and I said something simple about having come for 12 years and this being the best show yet. Then they asked for more, and asked what I liked about it.  What I liked about it? That’s like asking my favorite play, a question I used to refuse to answer. Ask me my favorite child next time. I could not think of a single specific example to give that did not trivialize other bits I equally loved. So what I ended up saying was, “….it’s King Lear, it’s Shakespeare’s masterpiece. It’s perfection on the page and tonight was perfection on the stage.”  I have no idea what happened to that video but if I find it I”ll post it.

Great show, Commonwealth Shakespeare! Happy 20th anniversary! I hope to continue my unbroken streak for many years to come.