The Merry Wives of Windsor might be slightly less merry this year. In fact, I would imagine they are pretty exhausted. A review of a new production of the comedy noted that it was performed outdoors in Indianapolis in extreme heat. The weather was, at time pushing one hundred degrees and the actors were literally mopping the sweat off of themselves. When you think of outdoor Shakespeare, initial weather concerns might be centered on rain or other such climate disturbances that might postpone or cancel productions. This highlights an entirely different issue: the health and well-being of the actors (as well as the audience)!

Certainly, when people envision outdoor Shakespeare, they picture the ideal circumstances: bucolic setting, light breeze, mild temperatures….your basic soap commercial fantasy. How does it change the experience for the audience under such extreme circumstances. While the actors no doubt rally as best they can (here’s hoping they’re doing a high-concept version that doesn’t require heavy Elizabethan English garb), no doubt the heat saps some of the energy in their performances (particularly as show progresses; after all, Shakespeare is rarely performed in less than two and a half hours). Audiences may face similar concerns, potentially impairing their ability to focus on the production as well as they might under more temperate circumstances. Also, depending on the play’s context and setting, it may impact the believability of the piece (imagine not chuckling at a line like “now is the winter of our discontent” when it is spoken in the blistering heat). The caprices of the weather are certainly not the production’s fault; they simply provide any additional test for one’s commitment to the Bard’s poetry.

Maybe not everything should become a musical. While some might disagree (namely the creators of the Broadway versions of Carrie and Big—based on the movies, not the characters in Sex and the City), it goes without saying that tone is essential to balancing the musical and dramatic material. We as an audience have to feel that the songs come naturally out of the story and move it forward. Otherwise, it looks like a straight play that got interrupted by a music video.

The material is only partly responsible for a musical’s success. Actors have the extremely challenging job of making these difficult transitions. A bum note or a corny gesture can ruin a scene and remind the audience that they are watching, well, a musical. Previously in this blog, I mentioned Lone Star Love, a down home musical based on Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor, headlined by Randy Quaid. The production was in tryouts and headed to Broadway when the producers abruptly pulled the plug after weak reviews.

Now, months later, Quaid is being banned from Actors’ Equity Association for life following a suit filed by, wait for it, THE ENTIRE COMPANY. This imbroglio comes on the heels of Quaid’s ill-advised lawsuit against the producers of Brokeback Mountain in which he attempted to get more money for his minor role (he filed the suit after it became a box office success, natch). Cousin Eddie’s defense in this matter is that he was in character and the cast just didn’t appreciate his creative process. Maybe Lone Star Love was destined to be a turkey anyway, but I can’t help wondering how things might have turned out if a different star had anchored the troubled production.

In the 1984 classic (at least to me) Revenge of the Nerds, the title misfits must temporarily live in a gym. As a result, a barrage of basketballs from the adjacent game practices often disrupted their daily activities. I use this example to highlight why many Minnesota locals are up in arms about a proposed complex that would house both a Shakespeare Festival and sporting events. While people are not necessarily worried about Falstaff getting beaned by a hockey puck a la Nerds, they are concerned about what they see as conflicting spatial demands.

What upsets people about this sportspeare arena (I should copyright that name) is the perceived hierarchy implied (i.e. that this is basically a sports complex into which a few Shakespeare productions will be shoehorned). This kafuffle highlights an ages-old battle between arts and athletics. On the educational level, both athletics and arts programs may be viewed as “ancillary” in that they are non-core subjects (despite the fact that participation in both improves performance in core classes). If funding becomes sparse, athletics departments are more likely to trump arts because of the revenue they generate (particularly at the university level). Part of me wishes it were possible for a complex to house artistic and sporting events equally well. If it could, perhaps the two disciplines would not be pitted against each other. Both playing a sport and acting in Shakespeare can contribute to a person’s growth. It is a shame then that they are so often stationed at opposite sides of the fence.

Totus mundus agit histrionem is believed to be a kind of catchphrase for the original Globe Theatre. The phrase translates to “The whole world is a playhouse,” a sentiment not to far from Shakespeare’s famous quote, “All the world is a stage.” The new Globe, built just over ten years ago according to what are believed to be the specifications of the original, is adopting this slogan again for their upcoming season.

Apparently, a Totus Mundus season means a wide variety of Shakespearean plays, including King Lear, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Merry Wives of Windsor, and Timon of Athens. It is an interesting mix, particularly on the heels of their most successful season yet. That season included the widely known tragedy Romeo and Juliet. This season follows a similar format, balancing well known titles (Lear and Midsummer) against lesser known (Windsor) and even obscure (Timon) works.

While the better known titles inspire a variety of responses, from voracious anticipation to overexposed fatigue, it is the lesser titles that have more potential to impact the audience. Timon may be well known to Bard aficionados, but the uninitiated may not even have heard of its existence. As a result, the artists involved have more creative leeway, because they are presenting an unknown quantity. Its audience is less likely to come into the production with preconceived notions about concept and characterization. In this way, The Globe has the potential to broaden its audiences’ understanding of Shakespearean theatre.

Shakespeare’s gone country. Nashville staple Cowboy Jack Clement’s new DVD is dubbed Shakespeare was a George Jones Fan. While this title could provoke numerous follow-up questions (”What, no Porter Wagoner?”), presumably it seeks to link the poetry of Shakespeare with that of country music. Truthfully, I’m just glad it’s not called Shakespeare was a Billy Ray Cyrus Fan.

An even more relevant example of the Shakespeare-Country connection is the new musical Lone Star Love, which is loosely based on The Merry Wives of Windsor. Currently finishing up its out-of-town tryouts (and revisions), the show is looking to bow on Broadway in November. While adapting Shakespeare to musical theatre is nothing new (see West Side Story and The Boys from Syracuse as examples), the milieu of Lone Star Love is decidedly different. It’s set in the post-Civil War South and its Falstaff is none other than Cousin Eddie himself, Randy Quaid. We’ll have to wait a few months to find out if Shakespearean hootenanny is a smash or flop. If it’s the former, brace yourselves for The Winter’s Yarn and Y’Alls Well That Ends Well.