Since this will be my last blog, I wanted to make a few parting comments about some of the more interesting issues that I’ve come across in the past two years. For me one of the most enduring questions about Shakespeare is the authorship debate. As much as we want some kind of resolution (and I include myself in that “we”), I don’t think we ever can. I don’t know which would be more disappointing: to find out that one man was that brilliant or that thirty of them were. Others will disagree, but I sort of like not knowing. It gives Will a bit of mystique. I can’t help thinking that if we found out, there would be something less magical about him, if not his plays.

The other recurring idea in many articles I’ve come across is the conceptualization of the plays in performance. I personally have a love-hate relationship with this trend. On one hand, I would loathe to see eight thousand of the same traditional, poetry-and-tights takes on the canon. Still, I can fully sympathize with those who think that high-concept productions are really just exercises in showing off for directors of questionable talent and little trust in the text. I’ve offered both opinions at different times (and received WILDLY different responses from readers), which makes me either open-minded or a complete hypocrite. In any case, that has been one of the most enjoyable things about Shakespeare as well as writing this blog. There really are no absolutes…..

We expect a lot of Romeo and Juliet don’t we? Not just the play, but the people too. They are at such a delicate age where the borderline between precious and precocious is hard to navigate. As an audience, we need to believe in true, instantaneous love even as we recognize the folly of it. We also can’t become exasperated with their poor decision-making skills and the rash acts of both their parents and their friends. In a way, it’s damned unreasonable of us, isn’t it? To expect them to be kids and grown-ups at the same time.

Perhaps that might explain why an overall positive review of The Globe’s new production of the play still manages to find fault with the execution (no pun intended) of the two lead roles. The writer notes that the two actors are remarkably young-looking and appropriately fresh and winning. In contrast, the review finds the performances a bit too even-handed, even cool. It’s as if the characters are a bit too mature for what happens to them.

So, perhaps, what we want isn’t so complicated after all. Perhaps we don’t want them to be too adult in their thinking after all. Maybe the very things that make them precocious or pretentious are what we look forward to in a production of the play. This reviewer missed some of the sturm und drang that normally accompanies the tragedy. This is a tragedy about timing; the main characters grow up just moments too late to stop their own self destruction.

The very recent announcement of Supreme Court Justice Souter’s retirement has already sent the media into a full-force blather-a-thon. Speculation has already begun regarding who the President will select to nominate as his successor. In the mean time, there are the usual reflections on the Justice’s career as well as predictions for the future of the Court. Interestingly, one item noted the response of Souter, along with many of his fellow Justices on the question of Shakespeare’s authorship. The article presents the following assessment:

“When asked his views of the Shakespeare authorship question, Justice David Souter recalled the comment of the late Harvard professor George Lyman Kittredge, who in his day faced claims that Sir Francis Bacon was the true genius behind the Bard. ‘I’ll agree that Bacon wrote Shakespeare if you’ll tell me who wrote Bacon,’ Kittredge liked to say, Justice Souter said.
As far as his own position, Justice Souter was far less decisive than he has been on recent cases involving the Fourth Amendment and punitive damages. ‘I have no idea who wrote the plays, but I’m glad someone did,’ he said.”

Souter was remarkably even-handed about it, but it seems ironic the issue would even come up. While the judges certainly have the right to opine about the issue of authorship, doesn’t their discussion of it have the odd ring of a ruling? It’s almost as if the issue could be settled once and for all, case closed. As Souter’s response proves, that debate is far from over.

Thousands of years later, we’re still infatuated with the Queen of the Nile. Hundreds of writers, poets, artists, actors, directors and other fans of history have endeavored to dramatize the story of Cleopatra. Perhaps the two most famous film versions (a black and white epic from the 1930s and a famously disastrous and overlong debacle from the early 1960s) are notable for casting the title role with actresses who are not even close to being Egyptian. At the time, perhaps it didn’t matter since the early decades of Hollywood mined historical, biblical and mythological stories for epic romantic effect.

A new book on Miss Cleo (sorry, couldn’t help myself) offers a decidedly different take on the heroine, starting with the title. Cleopatra and Antony reverses the title of Shakespeare’s take on her life to emphasize the centrality of the female historical figure. Perhaps part of the author’s motivation is to right some inaccuracies in the general public’s knowledge of Cleopatra. For most of us, she remains a romantic figure tied to two of Ancient Rome’s most notable men. Even her death has been romanticized when, let’s face it, letting a snake attack you isn’t exactly a pretty way to go. Part of what the book does is re-emphasize Cleopatra’s importance as a political figure. While her romantic affairs (along with the children they produced) were certainly notable, Cleopatra also maintained control over her country during a very tumultuous time in history. I still have a place in my heart for Shakespeare’s play, but even he presents her as The Babe with Two Beaux and a Boa.

It is often said that young people have no sense of their own mortality, let alone anyone else’s. This might explain why horror films in the past two or three decades earn most of their box office receipts from those under 25 (and probably a good portion of them under 17, despite the R rating). I’m not just speaking in generalities; I used to be one of them. I loved horror movies as a young adult, particularly a certain razor-handed baddie and a guy who only showed up on an appropriately eerie holiday. It didn’t matter for one second that most of these cheesy, low-budget, badly written splatter platters weren’t actually scary; the fun was the ridiculousness with which they dispatched their cardboard characters.

Now that I’m older, I don’t have that same affection for these movies. Not only do I notice the incredible ineptitude of their execution and their unbelievable lack of artistry, I also find them, well, yucky. I tried to watch the first Saw movie and lasted ten minutes before tossing aside the DVD with a definitive, “Yuck.” Perhaps horror movies have grown more sadistic and perhaps my tolerance has evaporated. Either way, it makes sense to me that college students, and not their elders, might choose to recreate the many memorable deaths in Shakespeare. A current enterprise is doing just that, and given the wide array of unfortunate demises in Shakespeare, it could end up being a long evening. Maybe the show won’t give me the willies in the same way that watching someone jump into a glass box full of hypodermic needles does (this is an actual scene from a movie); either way, I’d feel know shame if I had to cover my eyes a few times.

In people-who-have-no-business-going-near-The-Bard news, Mischa Barton apparently wants to do a Shakespearean play. It seems that playing an entitled rich kid on a short-lived soap opera gives you all the Bard cred you need to tackle Elizabethan verse. Ms. Barton was quoted as saying, “I recently did a Shakespeare course because they don’t teach Shakespeare properly in American schools. But I suppose as with any play it is about finding the right cast and actors and script for you.”

Okay, let me get a few things off of my chest. One: has she been to many American schools…or any? If not, how exactly can she speak about the level of education at those institutions? While I share her respect for the fine tradition of Shakespearean acting in England, I find that generalization insulting. Using her logic, that would mean that Patrick Stewart wouldn’t be as good at doing lame nighttime dramas because, like, they don’t teach that in England and stuff. Also, is she actually presuming that a cast and play should be tailored around her (loud throat-clearing noise) gifts as an actress? I’m trying to think of a Shakespearean character with limited facial and vocal expressions who avoids food at all costs and I’m coming up with a blank. Let me be clear, I don’t think there is anything wrong with Hollywood actors doing Shakespeare; in fact it’s a good thing. I just think a little humility is in order.

A fun article marking Shakespeare’s birthday cited some tips on how to talk like The Bard during the day to honor the occasion. The most expected of these recommendations was to conjugate verbs with “th” or “st” on the end. Secondly, “you” should be replaced with “thou” to go along with the verb conjugation. Whenever possible, try to employ meter and rhyme, with particular attention to rhyming couplets. Address your male friends with “Sirrah” and the females with “Mistress,” and be sure to call your besties “cousins.” Elisions are important, so lose the “i” in “it” and attach the “t” to the next word. One of the more extreme suggestions was for men to cross-dress if they want to stand a chance at getting the girl of their dreams. Perhaps the most challenging one stipulated that speakers incorporate complicated old-fashioned descriptors and metaphors into their speech.

At first, it doth not seem too difficult to undertake, though I know not many sirrahs who wouldst think dressing like a mistress might help them find love. Thou hath the right to disagree with me; after all, ‘tis a free country. Nay, but if thou didst attempt to write a blog this way, ‘twould be a most time-consuming enterprise. If thou findst me something of a jackanape for complaining, then thou hast my most humble apologies.
I be not expert in this type of rhyme.
Perhaps my lack is due to wont of time.

A Connecticut writer decided to mark The Bard’s 445th with an eclectic collection of observations about his Shakespeare-viewing experiences both past and present. Among his many comments was an observation that he had not seen a really good Shakespearean production in a number of years. Apparently, the best of his recent theatergoing experiences were, for lack of a better word, meh. He then went on to note that he would like a moratorium placed on one of Shakespeare’s comedies that he felt had been overproduced in recent years. He curiously also remembered fondly a production of the same play from three decades ago.

As I read this, I wondered if the productions deteriorated or the reviewer became more critical. If familiarity truly does breed contempt, what hope is there for Shakespeare lovers? Is it possible that this writer was so jazzed by Shakespeare productions of years past that current ones can in no way live up to his memory of them? In this light, Shakespearean theatre can be likened to a drug: the more you take in, the harder it is to achieve the same level of satisfaction. So, what’s a Bard buff to do? Is the answer to take in less Shakespeare to avoid getting completely burned out? Also, what about people like this reviewer, with lifetimes of Shakespearean theatre in their backgrounds? Can they ever rediscover their initial passion for Shakespeare in performance?

Syracuse Shakespeare Festival’s Elizabeth Rex may sound like a variation on a Greek tragedy, but the milieu of the play is decidedly Elizabethan. In fact, the play is so Elizabethan that the queen herself is a character and the focal point for the story’s action. The premise for this bit of historical fiction finds the Queen on the eve of the execution of her paramour, Lord Essex. Her central problem during the action of the play is to decide whether or not to stop this execution. During this period of deliberation she decides to take in a good play and finds herself in the company of Shakespeare and his actors as they play Beatrice and Benedik.

Though this may sound like the set-up of a historical farce, the play attempts to take its quandary seriously. While the Queen must deliberate on life-or-death matters, an actor in Will’s company faces similar questions of mortality. Judging from the review, Shakespeare himself takes a backseat to the Queen in the play, just as he would have in real life. Despite this, the article hints that the two figures are placed in close proximity to stimulate artistic and historical inquiry. Art and politics are perhaps not so different, an idea emphasized by juxtaposing two of the most important figures in British history (and THE most important ones in this period). Though we might know how the stories of both Elizabeth and Will ultimately end, the interest in theatre of this kind stems from the natural humans speculation about how they got there.

It’s been a good week for the arts in Canada as the government just announced a multiyear series of grants totaling $100 million. Garnering roughly ten percent of that sizable offering is the Toronto International Film Festival, which has become a much more visible presence on the festival circuit in the last five years. In fact, the nearly two-week September Festival is often the starting point for generating buzz around films and performances that hope to earn major award nominations (and wins) at the end of the year.

Additionally, $3 million in funds will be distributed to the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. At a time when numerous Shakespeare companies are scaling back their production schedules or closing altogether, Stratford is in a very fortunate position. Certainly, one of the biggest benefits of the grant will be the solidification of its production slate, which might have been trimmed for monetary concerns. More importantly, the funds will allow the Festival to reach out to audience members who might not otherwise be able to attend. This kind of outreach is crucial for companies seeking to diversify and expand their audience bases.

These grants mean ensure for the short term that two important Canadian cultural institutions will remain intact. While these grants may not heal all of their economic woes, hopefully they can help sustain the Festivals until the financial world stabilizes.