Category: Reviews

Movie and book reviews

Review : So Long, Shakespeare!

~ duane ~ 2 Comments


When news came out a few weeks back about a new “Star Wars in the style of Shakespeare” book, Bardfilm and I were alerted to another author’s existing effort in this space.  Tom Brown’s So Long, Shakespeare was pitched to me as a book about Star Wars crossed with the authorship question, and I made the author promise me that it ended the right way before I’d review it.  True story. 🙂

I enjoyed the book, and there’s at least one moment where I swore, loudly and repeatedly, at my car’s stereo speakers as they played the audiobook at me, I was that upset with something that was said.  That either says something about how well Brown knows how to push buttons, or how easy mine are to push.

The story starts with Joe Seabright, an obvious George Lucas clone, who made his fame and fortune penning five space opera films heralded the world over as the greatest space saga ever conceived.  Legions of fans buy the merchandise, attend the conferences, and see his movies over and over again.  His company JoeCo has invented new ways to film and present his movies, and his fortune has allowed him to build his own city, JoeTown.   Every time one of his films come out he’s a shoe-in for the best special effects award and best musical score, but the best picture award eludes him.

So far it screams George Lucas / Star Wars, and you don’t even have to suspend your disbelief that much.  Even when the story opens with Seabright in tears, so upset over yet again failing to win his Oscar, you can imagine Lucas doing the same thing.

Then it gets crazy.  I’m not going to say you need to suspend disbelief for this one.  You need to lock up disbelief in a glass case with David Blaine and Kris Angel and suspend it a half mile above New York City, without airholes,  for the duration of this ride.

Everyone who works for Joe has an intervention to let him know that the weakest part of the stories has always been the writing.  He sucks, worse than he could ever imagine.  No fear, however!  There’s a solution.  JoeCo has enough brainpower on staff that one of their scientists has managed to extract the “muse” gene from DNA and replicate its function (in pill form, no less).  So you get the DNA of the person whose creative streak you wish to emulate, take your pill, and you can immediately write (or sculpt or paint…) in the style of that person.

Bring on the Shakespeare!  Why not?  The guy that made his fortune writing space battles naturally thinks that he’s almost Shakespeare anyway, and just needs a little boost.  Oh, of course you have to accept that in this world there’s a DNA database of all the greatest people in history, Shakespeare included.

Let’s just say the results do not go as expected, and it’s not long before the authorship question (and an entire committee of people who’ve made it their lives’ work to have the debate) comes up.  In response to the DNA method of reproducing creativity comes a mathematical formula for measuring creativity, and a quest to find not merely a replica of history’s greatest creative mind … but the greatest *living* creative mind.  Shakespeare vs …  who?  [ Hey, Disbelief, how you doing up there in that cage?  Can you breathe? Is David Blaine annoying you yet? ]

This is science fiction first and foremost, it’s not Shakespeare scholarship, and you have to approach it that way. I found it fun.  I did figure out the mystery before it was revealed, but there were plenty of times that I thought it was going to go one way and it didn’t.  Most importantly, it all works out.  There are plenty of times when you’ll think the author took the easy route, or is going to follow the story through to a particular conclusion, and you’re almost always going to be wrong.

I still refuse to legitimize the authorship question, even after discussing it with the author (who is probably listening and may jump in on the comments :)).  I did not come away from this book thinking, “Yes, I have new insight into the question.”  Nope.  I was a Stratford man when I started that book, I was a Stratford man when one of the book’s characters used the expression “Stratford half-wit” and I let out a stream of curses that only stopped when I reminded myself that this is a fictional character saying this, that no real people think that :), and I’m a Stratford man at the end. That doesn’t mean it’s not a fun book that I think Shakespeare geeks who are at least part science fiction geek would enjoy.

This year’s Shakespeare Day Celebration is sponsored in part by Shakespeare Is Universal: Shakespeare truly is for everyone, and nothing demonstrates that sentiment better than his most famous quote of all, translated here into languages from around the world.   In celebration of Shakespeare’s birthday, show that you believe his works are just as relevant, powerful and important as they’ve ever been!

Review : The Wednesday Wars

~ duane ~ 3 Comments

The Wednesday Wars plays out like a Shakespeare geek’s version of the hero daydream.

Think back to when you were a child.  Surely at one point or another we all dreamed the hero daydream, where bullies backed away from us in the halls, teachers and adults praised our genius, teammates carried us around on their shoulders after we singlehandedly won the big game.  You know the drill.  All that stuff that would never happen, we just hoped that maybe someday. I remember, and this will seriously date me, that I would someday appear on Johnny Carson because I was just so very precocious, and Johnny would be amazed at how smart I was at such a young age.

Our narrator, seventh-grader “Holling Hoodhood”, has to read The Tempest … and takes away from it the knowledge that most of Caliban’s lines are Shakespearean curse words.  So he spends the rest of the book muttering “toads…beetles…bats!” when he’s angry at the situation, sometimes going so far as to shout “The red plague rid you!” at his enemies.

Do you know what happens?  Do the bullies of the school all point and laugh and call him an even bigger nerd, knock his books down and give him a wedgie?  Oh no, patient reader!  In this hero’s daydream the bullies think that these newfangled curses are cool, and it’s only a matter of time before Shakespeare is heard up and down the hallways.   I wish!

There’s an even funnier scene when our hero needs a favor from a grownup, who just happens to be in charge of the upcoming Shakespeare show.  “What I need,” says the grownup, “What would really save the day?  Is to find a 12year old boy that knows his Shakespeare!”  Because, you know, that happens. 🙂 And then there’s the scene where he gets to play ball with the Yankees.  Yeah.

Much of this story’s structure has been told before. A middle school student growing up in the 60s, having to deal with the teacher that hates him, the bullies that want revenge after he “takes one out,” an older sister who threatens death if he ever comes into her room….you know, the usual.  If that’s all it was, I’d have no interest in this book.  It is still a young adult book, narrated in that voice, and I found it overly redundant in many points.  It’s cute in places (like when Holling’s most pressing concern over his Shakespearean debut is the fact that his costume has feathers on the butt).  But his obsession with these things, while in character for a 12yr old, tried my patience on more than one occasion.

What makes this book special is Holling’s relationship with his teacher, Mrs. Baker, who has him working through Shakespeare as part of a special extra assignment.  There are bits in the beginning (as noted with Caliban’s curses) where it’s amusing to watch him get into Shakespeare, but it’s not long before they’re taking on bigger and more important issues like “The quality of mercy is not strained” from Merchant. All this is set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War (Mrs. Baker’s husband is missing in action, and Holling’s older sister is considering becoming a flower child).

It’s here that we go from “hero’s daydream” to “Yes, yes, I wish life was more like this.”  Everything that happens to Holling has happened and will continue to happen to all young adults at this stage of life.  I’m jealous of him because he’s got Shakespeare (and Mrs. Baker) by his side. I mean, come on, he takes a date to Romeo and Juliet  … and she likes it!  In middle school!

All kidding aside there is a wonderful story being told here, in particular as the narrator’s relationship with his sister evolves. I’ve heard that there might be a sequel in the works, and I’ll definitely put that one on my list as well.  I want to live vicariously through this kid.

Review : A Thousand Acres

~ duane ~ 2 Comments

Bardfilm and I have been discussing “modern adaptations” lately, and I asked for the distinction – did he mean modern setting but original text, or modern language?  For this particular context he meant the latter.  Since I don’t normally seek out such movies I went out and found one – the King Lear adaptation of the book of the same name, A Thousand Acres.

Jason Robards plays our Lear (“Larry”, as it becomes apparently quickly that the author’s gone with a whole first initial thing) to his daughters Michelle Pfeiffer (as “R”ose), Jessica Lange (as “G”inny) and Jennifer Jason Leigh (as “C”aroline).  From that point it’s harder to tell who is who because unless I’m missing something the first initial game goes out the window as Colin Firth’s Jess is plainly the bastard Edmund.  As you can see, though, the cast is first rate.

For any “modern adaptation” of this sort that’s clearly only taking inspiration from Shakespeare and not trying to tell his story, I look for a couple of things.  How much direct homage to Shakespeare is there?  How much of the original story remains?  How much new material does this story provide?

In other words does the end result produce something standalone, while still showing respect for the original?  It’s very tricky to strike a balance, because every time you diverge from the source material you’re going to have audience like me asking, “Oh, really? So you think you’re about to tell a better story?” and you need to bring it.  Safest not to change the story too much, but instead to bring new elements that Shakespeare never touched upon.

How does A Thousand Acres do?  It’s not bad.  The connection to the source material is clear, and  more than minimal.  Larry runs the farm, and wants to retire and divide it up amongst his three daughters.  R and G find this a great idea, but when C so much as says “Let me think about it” he disowns her on the spot.  I mentioned Jess as the bastard character who does all the bastard things, sleeping with the sisters, getting into a fight with his father (Pat Hingle as this sort of Kent/Gloucester combination character), but he’s not really the architect of all the bad that happens.  There’s even a nice big storm for the daughters to send their father into.

Other than those story elements the similarities are few and far between.  In this story, R and G (makes me think of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern when I say that :)) are actually the good guys, if you can believe it. It’s a very complicated story.  Nobody in town likes them because the people think the daughters conspired to steal the farm from their father.  Meanwhile the daughters have both got some deep dark secrets that reveal their father is not the nice man he seems, and is well deserving of their hate.

I found the story too confusing to follow in many parts, and that’s one of the reasons that I often dislike modern adaptations.  You try to add your own material, but then to really develop a foundation in that material you have to stray farther (further?) from the original, and eventually you hit walls where you can’t go more in any direction.  Same here.  There are some obvious places where R and G are talking and it seems like the most obvious thing in the world to do is for them to go talk to C…but they can’t.  That’s not how the story went.  In fact we never really even get C’s side of the story – this is Goneril’s movie, if I have to pick a central character.

The whole thing is additionally complicated with the addition of husbands and children, alcoholism and terminal illnesses.  There’s a whole lot going on in this movie besides the Shakespeare.  And it’s all set in this weird sort of Tennessee Williams sounding world where full grown women still call their parents “Mommy” and “Daddy” which, when coupled with the deep dark secrets that we learn, is all the more uncomfortable.

See it if you get a moment, if for nothing else than to have something to talk about the next time somebody trots out one of those lists that contains nothing but Lion King, Ten Things I Hate About You and She’s The Man. But don’t go out of your way for it.

 

It’s The New Shrew Review, Coming Right At You

~ duane ~ Leave a comment

(* Ok, please tell me somebody gets that reference.)

I just read today that former Disney princess and modern day movie darling Anne Hathaway is signed on to a new Taming of the Shrew movie?  How cool would that be?  The article suggests that she’ll of course play Katharina, which I suppose make sense given her star power — I think the only other role would be Bianca, and that’s very much just a supporting role.

But two questions spring immediately to mind.  First, who should be her Petruchio?  Obviously this movie’s going to skew to a younger audience so I don’t think we’ll see any Russell Crowes or Ralph Fiennes’ stepping up.  How about Chris Hemsworth, the dude that played Thor?  There’s already a bit of ol’ Shakespeare about much of his dialogue anyway.  He’s got the rough sound and look about him that he might be able to play Petruchio.

Second question – do we think that anybody’s ever going to match Liz Taylor and Richard Burton?  That wasn’t just a haphazard hookup of who happened to be hot in Hollywood (see what I did there? Ha!).  They were on a completely different level than that, and it showed.  The fact that it was Shakespeare was really just a bonus — wasn’t that the first (and only?) Shakespeare that she ever did?  Burton was a different story, of course.

When Kenneth Branagh or David Tenant (feel free to borrow some N’s from each other, boys, I can never remember how to spell either of your names) makes with the modern Shakespeare, I think we see it differently.  They are Shakespeareans, and decades from now students will discuss their interpretations alongside Olivier.  But … is Anne Hathaway the next Dame Judi Dench or Helen Mirren? Do young actors today have the Royal Shakespeare Company to fall back on, to produce the next Patrick Stewart or Ian McKellen?

Commonwealth Shakespeare 2012 Presents Coriolanus : Part 2

~ duane ~ 5 Comments

Ok, now that you’ve heard the story of how I got there, let’s talk about the show.  It should be noted that other than my introduction to the play via the recent Ralph Fiennes movie, I don’t have much detailed knowledge of the little things.

Taken to an extreme, it’s hard to explain Coriolanus to someone without sounding like a punchline — “This big bad war hero declares war on Rome and promises to burn it to the ground, until his mother comes and lays the guilt trip on him and makes him promise to play nice.”  Of course the interesting bits are in how we get there, and in why this can happen like it does.  The Fiennes’ movie (with Vanessa Redgrave as the mom) had some pretty deep and dark emotional baggage.  This one felt like it was playing more for the comedy angle.

The scenery is plain, wooden, with a burnt-out feeling to it.  At first I think it conjures up a little too much of a pastoral / foresty vibe rather than the industrial sort of thing I was expecting, but not to the point of distraction.  As is typical with all of the staging of their productions, they’ve got stairs to a landing stage left, and a higher balcony stage right.  There’s a main entrance through doors center stage, but that’s typically used for special stage directions – most actors entrances and exits come from the audience.

One of the downsides to seeing the same group perform a different play every year is that their characters begin to blend.  No more is this more true than with their comedian Fred Sullivan, who was so definitive as Nick Bottom that I’ve struggled to hear him portray anything differently since.  He was Brabantio, Parolles, and now Menenius.  I did not yet have an appreciation for how funny Menenius could be!  Fred’s got what I can best describe as a classic Abbott and Costello sense of timing, equally able to deliver the straight line, the zinger, or to burst into over the top ranting and raving.  Every year it’s a treat to watch (and hear) him.

Likewise, Volumnia is portrayed this year by the same woman who did The Countess last year in All’s Well That Ends Well.  I apologize for not having her name handy, I do not have a program with it (I know Fred’s name from years of paying attention to his characters).  I wasn’t sure what to do with Volumnia who is first seen playing guns with Coriolanus’ son, fingers cocked and pointed and shouting “eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh” at the boy as he play stumbles to his death down the stairs.   She is a joyful lady at this point, who doesn’t appear to have a care in the world.  Her son, her wonderful son!  A war hero!  She can’t wait for him to come home, with his shield or on it (no, she doesn’t say that, but that’s the idea).  Her tone doesn’t change in the slightest when she talks about the pride she would have in her son if he died, something that Coriolanus’ wife never quite seems to comprehend.  This was not what I expected.  But, then again, this gave her a great deal of room to change as the play progresses, which I think worked well.

Coriolanus is little more than a boy who I might have seen play Lysander or perhaps Bertram.  When you first see him there’s no “Holy cow he looks like someone you don’t want to mess with,” it’s more like “Ok, they all look like they’re playing army guys and he’s the one playing a little harder and a little better than everybody else.”

And that really becomes the theme of it.  All of Coriolanus’ rants against not wanting to walk among the people really do come off whiny.  When he does finally walk among them he is, to put it quite frankly, a real dick about it.  At “A match, sir. There’s in all two worthy voices
begged. I have your alms: adieu,” he might as well have stuck in a sarcastic, “Oh, yippy for me, more voices! Yay!”

His tone is not reserved for just the people, either.  He talks to his mother that way.  At “Chide me no more….look, I am going” he begins a slow motion walk across the stage.

But then … I’m not sure I completely understand what they were going with in the end, which is why with live theatre I always wish that I had opportunity to watch it a few times.  Coriolanus quite frankly seems scared to be in the camp of Aufidius.  He keeps repeating to them “See?  See what I did?  See how I turn away the messengers?  That’s good, right? You trust me, right?  Menenius over here, I loved him like a father, but I turned him away as well, you saw that Aufidius, didn’t you? Your people saw me do that?”  I mean, the lines are what they are, and I’m sure that he wasn’t adding any (the above are my paraphrases of course), but I thought the idea was that Coriolanus had this aura about him that caused soldiers to flock to him, and here he is constantly needing to ask “You trust me, right? I proved to you that you can trust me?”

The penultimate scene is all about Volumnia, of course, and she knocks it out of the park.  It is a clear case of motherly manipulation over her son – he turns his back on her, tries to hide from her, and then finally flings himself at her feet in tears.  She, of course, comes home in triumph, to a parade with rose petals strewn in her path and the people all shouting her name as the saviour of Rome.

As for Coriolanus’ ending, I still love that whole line about “I fluttered your Volskis at Corioli.  Alone. I did it.  Boy.”  Even though I was not impressed with Coriolanus in any sort of “one man army / robotic war machine” sort of way as the Fiennes did it, this one still managed to make it clear that “I know and you know that I can destroy you, you’ve seen me do it, so you don’t get to call me boy without paying for it.”  Whether that’s true or not, of course, we learn very quickly.

On a somewhat related note (if I point back to my best lines from Coriolanus post), I did not enjoy the whole “common cry of curs” scene.  It was as if somebody said “Ok, this line right here?  Center of the play,  everything revolves around this moment.  So when it comes, make sure it explodes.”  It does, but only to the point where the rest of the crowd on stage seems to be saying “WTF, dude, why are you shouting?”  After delivering the big line so big that the people watching Dark Knight in the nearby movie theatre would have heard it, the followup “I banish you!” was far more pitiful.  Not dripping with disdain like he can’t wait to get out of this place, but more with a resolute “I have to do this, I have choice” resignation.  Wasn’t bad, necessarily, I just didn’t love it.

One last thing.  End of play, Coriolanus’ body has been carried off.  Enter his son, who wordlessly comes over, picks up what I think is his father’s weapon (I couldn’t see well), and then either holds it over his head, or salutes or something.  I really wish I could tell what he’d done, maybe somebody who saw the production can tell me.  But, regardless…..what?  Not really sure what that was all about.  We supposed to treat this as a circle of life / circle of violence message?  Wouldn’t that mean that Coriolanus’ wife now assumes the role of Volumnia, even though we’ve had an entire play to see how different their characters are?  Seemed an interesting choice.  A nice visual to end on, I’m just not completely sure why.