The Grotesque and the Ridiculous: Directing Titus Andronicus

When I was assigned to direct Titus Andronicus for this Shakespeare class, I knew I was going to have to put a lot of effort into it.  Julie Taymor’s film is successful in the fact that it effortlessly combines humor and tragedy and manages to feel timeless.  I admire what she’s done with this film and hope that my direction showcases her work while still unique.

The first seen I looked at was the scene where Revenge visits Titus at his house.  What I find really interesting about this scene is that for a while in the beginning the audience is not sure whether or not the images Titus sees of Revenge, Rape, and Murder are real or just figments of his imagination.  Taymor first presents the three in what she calls a “penny arcade nightmare.”  The film has three or four of these “nightmares,” and in the previous ones it’s quite obvious they’re not depicting real events.  Because of this, the audience assumes that the “nightmare” featuring Revenge and her cohorts is imaginary as well.  By this point in the film Titus’ sanity is already questionable, so it’s not hard to believe Titus is making up the appearance of these people.  This “nightmare” converses with him and every time the camera switches to Titus, we see he is alone in his bathroom, talking to no one.  There’s steam in the air; the image is fuzzy.  The whole atmosphere seems dream-like.  Taymor continues this scene by having Titus look out the window of his house and out into the garden.  The camera angle switches to below his window and we are now looking up at him as he shouts to the invisible party below.  The camera backs further and further away, and yet we do not see Revenge or anyone at all.  This just adds the idea that Titus is going insane and seeing people that are not really there.  Taymor drew out this opening scene, leaving the audience wondering what is real and what is not.

When the camera angle switches again we see that Titus was not imagining these figures.  Standing out in his garden are Tamora, Chiron, and Demetrius disguised as Revenge, Rape, and Murder respectively.  Despite this assurance, Titus still comes off as slightly mad.  His eyes are wide, he cackles, pretends to attack Rape and Murder, and kisses Revenge.  In the eyes of those around him, his actions seem ridiculous.  Even when Marcus comes out, you can see in his expression that he’s questioning Titus.  Yet during this scene there are a few moments where it seems Titus takes complete control of his mind.  The first is when he speaks to Tamora and says, “I pray thee do on them some violent death; they have been violent to me and mine” (Titus.V.ii.108-109).  His face turns completely serious.  Again this happens at the end of Titus’ conversation with Marcus.  There brief moments throw the audience for a loop.  By doing this Taymor draws a big question.  Is Titus really mad or is he just pretending?  There is a small soliloquy Titus has in this scene that Taymor did not include.  Titus says, “I knew them all, though they supposed me mad…” (Titus.V.ii.142).  This line is explanatory, but by cutting it Taymor lets the audience make their own assumptions about Titus’s sanity.

Taymor sets a strange and frightening atmosphere in the beginning of the scene with the penny arcade nightmare.  The strangeness continues with the physical entrance of Revenge and her ministers.  Rape and Murder barely speak in this scene, but instead they linger in the background behind their mother.  Tamora as Revenge interacts more with Titus, whispering in his ear and appealing to his misery.  She is the leader of their little charade, the one orchestrating the whole thing.  Her sons are just along for the ride. 

The last full scene of the play is where everything finally comes together.  It opens with two pies cooling at a windowsill; Carlo Buti’s “Vivere!” can be heard playing in the background.  Taymor is very much aware of the comedy within the horrific events of the film, but she never lets it overwhelm the story.  Once all the guests arrive, the stage is set with a variety of characters.  Besides Titus, Lucius, and the emperor and empress, she included five or six Goths as well as Senate members.  This sets up more of an audience for the events that are to come later in the scene.  It shows how all the different characters from the movie begin to blur.  The once enemies are now allies, the allies are now foes.  Many characters in the movie have this dual nature; they are all villains and heroes.  Together they are seated at the dinner table, and Taymor gathers them all in for the culmination of the film. 

One of the most intense moments in this scene (besides the final revelation) is Livinia’s death.  In actuality it sets up the final revelation and through Livinia’s death Titus is able to reveal her real “murderers” and complete the final part of his revenge.  The music stops when Livinia enters, looking, as Taymor mentioned, “almost like a bride” complete with a veil (Taymor).  She goes to her father who holds her to himself.  Taymor used this to emphasize the protectiveness of Titus towards his daughter and his own sorrow for not being able to care for her.  Their interaction with each other is loving and knowing; they are very much aware of what will happen next and they have both accepted this.  As Titus speaks of Virginius slaying his daughter, the camera cuts behind Titus and Livinia’s faces, so it feels as if we are standing behind them, listening in closely as they talk.  Because of this angle, when Titus says, “Die, die, Livinia, and thy shame with thee,” the line seems more gentle and reassuring.  Taymor takes a line that could have been seen as harsh, and makes it gentle—a father reassuring his daughter and bestowing upon her a blessing.  In the director’s commentary Taymor discussed the actual killing of Livinia.  She didn’t want Titus to use a knife or anything else like that because she thought it “would have been a violation” (Taymor).  Killing Livinia with his own hand is more intimate, and in a way, less violent. 

Livinia’s death is offset by the intense violence that follows.  The climax of the films revolves around Titus revealing the true contents of the pies to his guests.  When Titus tells Tamora, “Why, there they are, both baked in this pie,” he does it with such exaggeration that it adds a comic layer to the whole situation (Titus.V.iii.60).  This was a good choice on Taymor’s part; it reflects the kind of excited madness Titus had built up inside of himself.  This was the final reveal for him, a moment of celebration.  He knew this was the end and he was going out with a bang.  In the following death scenes Taymor cut both Saturninus’ and Lucius’ lines.  Instead Taymor relies on rock music, and the character’s actions and facial expressions to say what the actors do not.  This part is chaotic and reflects the mayhem seen in the opening scene of the film and that underlies the rest of the movie.  After Saturninus’ death, Taymor slows down the film as a transition between the fast-paced death scene and the resolution that follows (the final scene in the play).  Lucius closes the movie with his monologue addressed to the Roman people who act as a sort of audience, sitting in the stands of the coliseum.  As Taymor said, “he acts with authority and responsibility, but tremendous pain in his eyes” (Taymor).

 

There were moments in Titus where chaos took over, where things went over the top.  This was the essence I was trying to embody in our interpretation of Titus Andronicus.  I wanted to take these moments I saw in the movie and expand on that.  At the time we watched this movie for class we were discussing parody, pastiche, and camp.  I decided I wanted to try to make a parody of the scenes we chose.  The first scene we decided to do was the scene where Tamora and her sons come dressed up as Revenge, Rape, and Murder.  I knew I wouldn’t have a hard time turning this into a parody.  The concept on its own is very comical.  What we needed to do was turn the empress and her sons into comedic figures.  Despite their cruelty, Chiron and Demetrius have a childishness about them; at one point in the director’s commentary Taymor says, “you get a sense they’re like babies” (Taymor).  I wanted to use this image of them.  Since we only did the last scenes of the play, I didn’t have to worry about portraying them inappropriately in some of the more violent scenes.  So for this scene we turned the sons into the classic bumbling sidekicks.  Taymor already established that sidekick feel to them in the film by having them follow their mother around the garden, always looking to her for what to do next.  In our play version we made them more obnoxious, more childish.  They giggled annoyingly and much too long.  They wore silly comedy and tragedy masks and played with toy soldiers.  I lowered them from being reckless young criminals, as Taymor portrayed them, and turned them into the ridiculous goons that always accompany the villain in movies. 

Although Tamora was the “villain” with her sons as sidekicks, I didn’t make her out to be as disturbing as she was in the movie.  Taymor had her in a bizarrely grotesque costume complete with a kitchen knife helmet.  Instead we had Tamora wear red glittery wings and a funny Marti Gras mask.  The fact that in the movie they visit Titus in disguise, completely sure he won’t recognize them, just amuses me.  It’s completely idiotic.  I wanted to make their disguises even more idiotic so I cut out all the extravagant costuming and instead put them all in silly, but simple masks.  I wanted to emphasize how absurd their disguises were.

There was a moment in this scene in the movie where Tamora leans over and whispers to Titus, then turns his face towards her.  I liked this interaction Taymor set up and wanted to include more of that in our play version.  When Titus welcomes Tamora into his house, I had him put his arm around her and physically lead her inside.  Throughout the scene Tamora walked around Titus, putting her hand on his shoulder or whispering in his ear.  Even with her sons she was more affectionate, stroking their heads like they were pets.  

In the movie version, Taymor has all four characters outside in Titus’ garden.  This I changed, mostly because of set and space obligations.  Having them all in Titus’ house worked out well, I think.  There’s a strangeness to it, all of them gathering together in his study.  I also spaced out the characters on the stage, as opposed to their close location in the movie.  This I did for a few reasons.  First, I didn’t want all of my characters to be huddle together in a small part of the stage; it would have been awkward looking.  Second, Tamora is really the one trying to persuade Titus.  The sons throw in a line each, but they mostly hang back.  Instead I had Chiron and Demetrius immediately run towards the table as soon as they entered the house.  Sitting in the background allowed them to keep their backup roles and by playing with the toy soldiers they upheld that silliness I wanted them to have.

The second scene of our play (the second last in Shakespeare’s version) was truly the most important and the most fun.  Taymor again injected a bit of dark humor into her work by having light-hearted music playing as the camera showed us the two meat pies Titus’ baked out of Chiron and Demetrius.  She really did an excellent job of infusing these moments without detracting from the whole feel of the work.  As a kind of last minute addition, I decided to include that same music as an interlude between the two scenes of our play.  It wouldn’t necessarily have the same effect as in the movie, but it’s a very upbeat song that would add a strangely comedic opening for the events that were to come. 

Something that wasn’t neither in Shakespeare’s play nor Taymor’s movie was our introduction of the characters.  In the other versions, Titus says, “Welcome, my lord; welcome, dread queen; welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome Lucius” and the play goes on from there (Titus.V.iii.26-27).  However, I had to make a few changes to the script.  First, since we had started our play at the end, most of the audience would have no idea who some characters were.  Also, this scene is where the final act of revenge takes place.  I was worried that without a little explanation about whom people were, the audience wouldn’t really know what was going on.  So I revised Titus’ introduction, adding some asides that allowed him to introduce each guest and provide a little more information about the characters.  I don’t really know if it helped the audience at all, but I thought I’d give it a try.  Taymor also had both the Goths and Senate members as guests at the dinner.  Because of the size of our cast I wasn’t able to do this, though none of them are very important to the scene.  If Taymor included them to have a sort of “audience” feel to the scene, well, we didn’t have to worry about that since we already had an audience.  Our real audience also stood in place of the audience Taymor had in the final coliseum scene in the movie. 

One part of this scene I was worried about was Livinia’s death.  I wanted to keep this a parody but I worried about how to go about this part without being crude or disrespectful.  Like in the movie I had Titus kill Livinia with his own hand; I found this particularly shocking and thought that even if it didn’t have the parody feel, it was still “out there.”  In regards to that, I told the actors to be as dramatic as they wanted with their reactions.  Some went pretty far with it, which is good, while others didn’t. 

The three final deaths in this scene are really the big bang of the play.  Taymor presented a very intense, dramatic ending, but I was going for a more farcical approach.  Strangely enough, when we first got this assignment, one of the first ideas I got for directing involved the death scene.  Immediately I knew how I wanted to do it.  In the movie, Taymor used a variety of different objects as weapons—knives, spoons, candlesticks—but I decided against that.  I liked how crazy absurd it was, but it would be too complicated for our stage production.  The easiest weapon to use would be a knife with a retractable blade because it’s practical and realistic looking.  I knew right away I wanted to use the same weapon for all three deaths, and thought it would be funny if each person came, took the knife out of the person who had just been stabbed, and use it to stab the next person.  To add comedic effect I wanted to have all three characters die at the same moment so their deaths would all be more dramatic and in the end Lucius would be the only one standing, alive.

Because we cut out Marcus and Aaron (as well as quite a few other characters) who are in the last scene, we didn’t necessarily need to do the last scene of the play.  However, it felt like we needed something to close the scene and since we had the character Lucius, I included his final monologue in the script.  It’s a good conclusion and there’s a bit of humor thrown in with the way he talks about leaving Tamora out for birds and beasts to eat.  In the movie, Taymor had Lucius—as the new emperor—take a more authoritative, stern tone.  However, since Lucius didn’t become emperor in our play I decided to have him speak as if he was addressing each of the deceased.  He moved around the stage, stopping by each of the dead and sealing the fate of their bodies.  When he came to Tamora I wanted him to get louder, angrier; I even had his character kick her chair and pretend to spit on her. 

During a pre-filming rehearsal, Anthony Hopkins made a comment about the “grotesque ridiculousness of us all” (Hopkins).  I think this perfectly sums up what I was trying to achieve with our production.  Taymor did a great job of incorporating these grotesque and ridiculous moments without overwhelming the integrity of the film.  I, however, took these moments and expanded on them, playing up the comical aspects.  Sure it probably wasn’t as deep or visionary as Taymor’s production, but it certainly was fun.

TGIO: Thank God It's Over

Since I have to fill up a whole ten-page paper about this play (which turned out a lot shorter than I originally planned), this blog will be purely subjective.  First off, I just want to say thanks to you, Dr. Gleason, for helping us with our performances, and squeezing extra practice time into our schedule (we really needed it).  As for our play, well, some things turned out like I had envisioned them, some things did not.  A lot of the problems came solely from technical errors that we didn’t plan on.  One of the biggest ones being a dark backstage and four plays worth of props stacked in one giant pile.  Another problem being the curtains, which I did not know how to operate.  But I’m not going to dwell on the negative.  I’m not a theatre techie so I can hardly be expected to know my way around the stage. 

I had a lot of fun watching the other plays and seeing those little snippets of rehearsal come to life as a full blow production.  I was actually a lot less nervous about our performance once I got onstage, mostly because I was too busy trying to figure out the curtain pulley system and find Titus’ apron to worry about being nervous. 

All in all, it was definitely an experience.  Stressful, yes.  Hectic, yes.  Frustrating, yes.  But hey, that’s Broadway.  And it certainly made me see Shakespeare in a whole new light.

A Thinking Man's (or Woman's) Play

I have to admit that I’m really excited that we’re working with Macbeth because it’s probably my favorite of Shakespeare’s tragedies (witches, prophesies, murders, ghosts, Scottish people!—what’s not to like? (Although I have to admit that Titus Andronicus is really close behind because the more I work with that text, the more I appreciate the sheer craziness of it—it’s so much fun.)).  What I really like about Macbeth, though, is how much it makes you think.  There’s so much to debate about.  We touched on one of those debates regarding the witches and Macbeth.  Would Macbeth have tried to claim Duncan’s throne if the witches hadn’t told him the prophecy?  Was Macbeth in control of his actions or was he ruled by fate?  My Intro to Lit class recently read this play and even after going over these kind of questions half a dozen times, I still don’t have a clear answer.  It all depends on how you look at the situation, what kind of “lens” you view it through.  Like we said in class, if you look at the situation through a Protestant viewpoint, we would claim Macbeth didn’t have control over his actions—he was a pawn of destiny.  But if you look at it through a Catholic viewpoint you could argue that everyone has freewill and Macbeth made his own choices.

Another debate that we addressed in my Intro to Lit class was whether it was Macbeth or Lady Macbeth that was responsible for the death of Duncan.  Yes, they’re both responsible, but if you had to pin it one person, who would it be?  The debate was really interesting because a lot of people initially chose to blame Lady Macbeth because she was manipulative.  I played the devil’s advocate (as we like to say a lot) and said Macbeth was the one responsible.  If you look at it through the argument of a modern court, Macbeth was truly the one who committed the act.  Lady Macbeth was just an accessory to the murder.  We also said that although Lady Macbeth manipulated Macbeth into the act, Macbeth could have easily said no.  During that time period, the husband was in control.  If Macbeth wanted to, he could have put Lady Macbeth in her place and told her to stop talking about the prophesy, etc.  But he didn’t do that.  He never even defends himself.  He lets her force him into action; it’s as if Macbeth has already decided he wants to kill Duncan, but he needs someone to motivate him.

There are so many debatable instances in this play, and many times it’s really hard to choose a solid answer, to figure out the right and the wrong.  The more I read Macbeth the more I find arguments for both sides.  Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet may be popular, and King Lear may be Shakespeare’s greatest play, but Macbeth is a well-wrought morality tale that makes you question every scene and character.   

More Past, Less Tragedy

Tragedy is the core of this class, quite obviously because we are studying Shakespeare’s tragic plays.  But for the first time in class we actually sat down and tried to sort out the true tragedy in the play we were reading, and the causes and moral implications that could be determined from it. 

What I found interesting was that King Lear was a much more tragic work than Ran, at least in my opinion.  One of the influencing factors was that we got insight into Hidetora’s past, while Lear’s was left up to speculation.  Truly, in my mind, it’s Hidetora’s past that makes him less worthy of my pity.  Let’s break it down: he’s a crazy monarch who mutilated and murdered the families of two different young women, then proceeded to make those two women brides for his sons.  And that’s only the stuff we know about; the audience is perfectly capable of making assumptions about what the rest of his reign was like.  So what do we know about Lear?  He’s an old guy, possibly getting a little loopy in his old age.  He’s prideful, yes, and a little naïve among other things.  But is he a ruthless murdering warlord?  So really, I find it much easier to pity Lear.  His story is more tragic because of this, while on other hand I feel Hidetora got what he deserved.

So Hidetora’s past didn’t really define the tragedy of the movie, or even give a cause for it, but it certainly had an effect on how tragic his story was.  Was that what Kurosawa was after?  If Hidetora had a different history, the story certainly would have been perceived differently.  Perhaps that was Shakespeare’s idea all along.  Maybe he wanted people to question whether Lear was tragic or not.  Or maybe he wanted the opposite effect.  With no positive or negative past to give shape to Lear’s character, the audience is forced to make assumptions about him based solely on what little insight we get.  

Things Are Looking Up

This past play practice both relieved some stress I had about our play and added even more stress at the same time.  To the positive aspects first—the Genetian players were amazing.  They made my attempt at directing look like something a four-year-old would have done.  Now mind you, in my support I did lay down the ground works for the scenes, but our Genetian helpers managed to push us that extra step that I had been struggling with. 

It was a great practice.  Our helper—Joey—really showed us how to tap into our characters’ mindsets and how to emphasize the weirdness of the whole situation.  What was really great was that I was able to show her some of my own ideas for the scene and have her give me feedback on how to make them better.  I know that sometimes I can be a little bit my-way-or-the-highway, but I know when to step back and let someone more experienced throw in her two cents.   

Unfortunately—and here’s the bad part—we didn’t even go through the second scene.  It’s not even blocked.  A bit worrisome, though we do have a few weeks left.  Another bad part: I have to act.  Well, I don’t have to, but really it makes the most sense and it would eliminate some previous stress about getting a member from another group to play the parts I needed.  I’m going to have to play Chiron and Saturninus.  Neither have particularly big roles, but when this project started I knew in my head that I really did not want to act.  I have horrible stage fright.  Or, at least, I think I do.  For years I was an awful public speaker and even though I’m way better now I still have it in my mind that if I ever went onstage I would completely freeze up and forget my lines.  It’s all psychosomatic, I’m sure.

Anyway, working with the Genetian players was unbelievable helpful.  Hopefully we’ll be able to work with them at least once more because their support was invaluable.  I really think our play is going to be much better because of them.  

Othello's Points>Iago's Points

I kind of think social hierarchy in Shakespeare’s time is a little bit like some tests we just took in psychology.  For the tests, you got points for each question if the question applied to you (for example, you would get two points if you got 8-9 hours a sleep a night, but -3 points if you smoked).  In the end you totaled your points and ranked your total on a scale.  The higher you were on the scale, the better off you were (mentally, physically, psychologically…I’m not really sure what the test was getting at).  The point is Othello is kind of the same way.  In Loomba’s article she mentions, “Specifying who is part of the nation also entails identifying who may not be part of it, or who may be its ‘lesser’ member” (150).  In all actuality, Othello should be the lesser member of his society because of his race (and probably religion although that isn’t really mentioned in the play).  So (and here is where the psych test comes in) he would get negative points because of his race.  But the fascinating thing is that he has a high-ranking military position.  That gives him positive points.  To add to that he’s married to a white woman (more positive points) who has government ties (even more positive points).  So really, Othello almost ranks higher than some white men in his society.  But is he still considered the “lesser member?”  Apparently so.  Despite all of his “positive points” that would normally put him higher up on the social hierarchy, Othello is still portrayed as the typical “other outsider.”  Not all the play’s characters portray him that way, but Iago certainly does.  Perhaps that is Iago’s motive.  Othello is an “other” and yet he still ranks higher than Iago does.  In Iago’s mind, Othello’s should be the “lesser member,” but somehow he’s becoming more and more part of the nation—a nation that usually identifies itself as the opposite of the “others.”    

Blocking: A Director's Nightmare? Maybe a Little Bit...But We're Managing...Somehow

I really want to talk to the Genetian players.  Blocking this past Monday was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.  First, I didn’t know what kind of props we had, whether we had lighting and sound, if the curtains would be moved—all things that would affect how I blocked out our two scenes from Titus Andronicus.  To add to this, I was missing a character (Chiron) so I had to fill that spot while still trying to direct my actors.

Okay, I suppose that’s enough griping for today.  My point is that basically what I said in my second sentence: blocking is hard to do.  It’s so easy for me to see how everything would play out in my head, but getting my actors to walk, stop, turn, and sit where I want them to has become more difficult than it probably should be. 

We somehow managed to block (roughly) the entire first scene, though we got barely anything done with our actual stage time.  As a homage to the movie Titus we decided to have Titus playing with toy knights as the scene opens.  Later when Chiron and Demetrius follow their mother into Titus’ house, they too will sit down and play with the toys.  Our interpretation of the play is meant to be comical—a parody in essence—but I feel this scene will make an underlying comment about the characters.  By having all three playing with the action figures, we’re showing the childishness that all display.  I’m sure that childishness will show up more in our version, as madness in Titus and stupidity in the sons.  To add to this, we wanted Tamora and her sons to have overly exaggerated movements (my actors have already decided on a signature pose for Revenge, Rape, and Murder—one especially looks like something out of The Karate Kid) to add to the ridiculousness of the scene. 

Because we don’t have a balcony for Titus to stand on and talk to Tamora, we decided to have Titus and Tamora yelling back and forth at each other through the doorway (invisible or actual, we’re not sure yet).  The rest of the scene is going to take place inside of Titus’ study.  There just isn’t any room on the other parts of the stage so we were forced to change the location of the conversation to inside instead of outside. 

My only hope is that my actors remember our blocking from Monday.  I’m relieved we’re going to get more stage time because I really think that will help us—just knowing how much space we have and getting a feel for the location.

Anyway, thanks for listening to me rant.  I’ve been involved in play productions before, but my role was usually that of writer so I never got much say in how it was performed.  I’m realizing now just how much work goes into a single scene of a play.  Hopefully by laying out my problems and accomplishments in front of myself, I can better figure out what my next step is in this whole directing process.  

Blog Paper

For most of my life, Shakespeare’s works have been part of a separate realm of literature.  They formed their own little “genre” you could say.  I knew about Shakespeare in grade school, but I don’t think I ever read any of his works until I reached high school.  I’ve always been a strong reader, and have no problems with most of what I’ve read in school or in my free time.  Shakespeare, though, I never really got a full grip on, mostly due to how it was taught to me.  My freshman year of high school we read Romeo and Juliet.  Just read it, no interpretation, nothing.  My sophomore year we started reading Julius Caesar, but only a quarter of the way through the play my teacher fell ill and had to miss weeks of school.  Our substitute was not interested in English and basically has us read it aloud in class with little to no interpretation of the text.  My junior year we didn’t even touch a Shakespearean text because it was an American literature course and obviously Shakespeare isn’t American.  My senior year we studied Othello and it was the first time we actually discussed the text.  Not surprisingly, out interpretation focused on the expected—symbolism and the role of race.  We spent a lot of time studying Shakespeare himself, but barely connected this knowledge with the writing.  Also that year we read Macbeth, but it was on our own time.  We were quizzed on the play, but never talked about it in class.  (Our teacher also attempted this style of teaching for A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.  It did not go over well at all.) 

And that, sadly, is the extent of my experience with Shakespeare.  No, I had never even picked up Hamlet before this class.  Why?  I can’t begin to explain why Shakespeare was so neglected in my high school, but as for me personally, well, Shakespeare was not on my list of fun free time reading.  I always felt the language was too daunting, and I had never learned to read more than what was just on the surface of the Shakespearean text.  Needless to say, my Shakespeare reading stage was pretty much at text-self, perhaps occasionally reaching text-text.  I knew I was capable of reading and writing at a much higher level, but just never got the opportunity. 

My blog entries for this class have been working strongly at a text-text stage, only occasionally lapsing into the text-self stage.  My very first blog entry focuses on looking at the movie Shakespeare in Love through a New Historicism approach.  I relate the play within the movie (Romeo and Juliet) and the movie itself to power struggles of Shakespeare’s time: “It is not surprising that the main events in William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet are set in motion by two conflicting patriarchs, Lord Capulet and Lord Montague. This plot detail no doubt stems from the society in which Shakespeare lived—one that was ruled by white men.”  I discuss how the women of this piece are in conflict with the white patriarchal society and that “In an act of rebellion, perhaps, both women fall in love with the one person they should not—Juliet with Romeo and Viola with Shakespeare. This direct defiance of the patriarchal rule carries over from Shakespeare’s world into his play.”  My September 25^th blog also falls into the text-text stage by addressing historical references within both Romeo and Juliet and Titus Andronicus. I wrote, “Romeo+Juliet, although portrayed in a modern setting, still maintains the Elizabethan language and the historically centered customs of that day.  For example, Juliet is still betrothed to Paris, even though arranged marriages rarely [occur] in America today.”  These kinds of comments fall into a text-text stage, but have the potential to reach a text-world stage if I had only chosen to expand more on a specific point. 

A few of my blog posts fall back into a text-self stage.  My blogs on the acting/directing process are mostly I-centered, but include some reflection on how our text(s) were translated into performance.  In my September 11^th blog I wrote:

“As we saw it, Paris believed that Juliet already belonged to him because despite the fact that they weren’t yet married, Lord Capulet had bequeathed her to him. At this point Juliet was already married and had no romantic interest in Paris; she wanted to avoid him entirely. To get this feeling across, we had Paris slowly advance towards Juliet as he spoke. We wanted him to get uncomfortably close to Juliet, to show the possessiveness of the character. Juliet, in turn, would react by moving away from him, showing her reluctance to even be near him.” 

It’s working at a text-self stage, but includes interpretations on translating a text from one format to another.  My other text-self blog entries also include hints of outside analysis, but never reach a text-text stage. For example, in my September 17^th blog I wrote:

“After today’s class on camp (and parody and pastiche) I’m hoping that some new ideas will come along.  I don’t really think Taymor’s version is campy; it’s more on the side of pastiche, if I have to label it.  Perhaps if I try to look at the work in another light I can find a vision of it that’s different enough from Taymor’s.”

The more I read and watch Shakespeare, the more comfortable I am working and analyzing the different texts.  I’m hoping that as time passes I’ll start working at a text-world level within the Shakespeare realm.  For most of my life I’ve been stuck in this mindset that Shakespeare’s works are entirely grounded in his century.  I’m realizing now that a lot of the themes and plot details in his plays can be seen in contemporary work and in aspects of our world today.  I think watching movies based on Shakespeare’s plays will help me move into the text-world stage.  Most of the movies we’ve seen have some sort of contemporary aspect, in the least that they were made into movies, and I’m hoping that this will help me start relating Shakespeare to the modern world.  As I wrote in my blog on directing (but can apply to any situation, I believe), “This will probably take more reflection on my part, but I’m confident that eventually it will all come together.”

Hamlet: Gertrude as a Stereotype

Despite Queen Elizabeth’s rule, Shakespeare’s time was a highly patriarchal society.  We can’t be sure whether or not Shakespeare himself supported this view, though many of his plays seem to.  Many of the movies we watched for class on both his life and plays reflects these same ideas, so someone must of thought he did.  In Shakespeare in Love we see Viola being ruled both her father and fiancée and oppressed by the society she lives in.  Romeo+Juliet portrays Juliet as a slave to her father’s will and, in some interpretations, to her own innocence and emotions.  But it is in the movie Hamlet that we are presented with a female character so strongly controlled and reliant on this patriarchal society and so conforming to stereotypical assumptions made about women.  So many of these assumptions can be seen in the first act.

The first scene Gertrude appears in is her husband’s funeral.  Except for her, (as far as I could tell) all the attendees were men, and she the only guest crying.  This goes along with the binary logic of language: male/female, reason/emotion, head/heart.  Because she is a woman, Gertrude shows emotion and is sensitive to the situation while all the “reasonable” men show no emotion at all.  We know from the play that Gertrude marries less than two months after her previous husband’s death.  We don’t know exactly why she married, but we can assume some things.  She most likely married for security, playing into the assumption that women must look to men for protection.  In a following scene with Claudius and Hamlet, Gertrude plays into the French feminist argument that women have two options: to speak, but speak as men, or to remain silent.  Though it’s not necessarily portrayed like this in the play version, in the movie adaptation Gertrude has few lines in this scene.  The ones she does speak are basically echoes of what her husband said before her.  Gertrude does not really speak in much more of the first act.  In the scenes we do see her she is often hanging on Claudius, kissing him or showing some kind of affection for him.  This relates to the French feminists connection between women’s sexuality and women’s language, and the idea that women are only defined by their sexuality.  The little we see of Gertrude at the beginning of this film supports these ideas because the audience has no choice but to define her by what we see—her sexuality. 

Although  there are certainly more examples later in the film (and play), it’s easy to see just by the first act how the character of Gertrude falls in the stereotypes formed by a patriarchal society.

September 25, 2008: Revisiting History with Romeo+Juliet, Titus

In my contemporary literature class we’re currently learning about the idea of revisiting history within texts (you know this, obviously, because you are teaching it).  We briefly discussed this in our Shakespeare class, but I had a lot more ideas I wanted to mention.  Although Luhrmann’s Romeo+Juliet and Taymor’s Titus are more modernized versions of their respective texts, they feature aspects from throughout history that make some interesting commentary.

Romeo+Juliet, although portrayed in a modern setting, still maintains the Elizabethan language and the historically centered customs of that day.  For example, Juliet is still betrothed to Paris, even though arranged marriages rarely in America today (especially between a fourteen-year-old and, well, however old Paul Rudd was supposed to be (and please don't get me started on Paul Rudd as Paris)).  Other historical customs from the play—banishment and duels in the name of honor—are maintained in the movie despite the fact that these things do not regularly occur in modern day America. Luhrmann changed the setting and time period, but stayed true to Shakespeare’s plot.  Other interesting historical references can be seen in the characters’ costumes at the Capulet party.  Juliet’s mother, Lady Capulet, is dressed as Cleopatra.  This could be a reference to how Lady Capulet, along with her husband, are “rulers” over Juliet and have a power over her just as a queen would have over her subjects.  Romeo’s costume is just chain mail and armor, but it is a reference to knights and crusaders throughout history.  Knights were seen as saviors and warriors; the crusaders were on a quest.  Romeo, in the same way, is on a quest to win Juliet.  Juliet, dressed as an angel in white, represents the angels we know from throughout history—pure, divine, innocent, and beautiful beings.  

Julie Taymor’s Titus also revisits history, though subtly.  Like Romeo+Juliet, the setting seems more modern, but the Elizabethan language and 16^th century customs are still presented in the plot.  The Roman Senate, heredity deciding who’s next in line to rule, and even mercy killings are all ideals from Shakespeare’s time, but are still part of the modernized movie.  Another interesting historical reference I found online (so it’s credibility is questionable) is that during the election scene at the beginning of the film, Saturninus’ car resembles the car used by Hitler, and that Bassianus’ car is the same as the one JFK rode in the day he was assassinated.  If this is true then there are some interesting observations to make.  Like JFK, Bassianus is assassinated in the play, and like Hitler, Saturninus ends up leading a tyrannical regime.  The cars were clever references to historical men, and their lives foreshadow what is to become of the two brothers in Titus Andronicus.

September 17, 2008: Titus Andronicus

Almost immediately my play group decided that the scene we wanted to do for our performance of Titus Andronicus was the last major scene, the one with the cannibalistic dinner party.  Even if my group hadn’t immediately expressed their wishes to perform this scene, I would still have suggested it.  Since most of the play’s scenes have quite a few characters, our decision wasn’t influenced by how many actors we had.  We already knew we had too few, so I figured we could just pick a scene we liked and hoped things worked out from there.  The final scene would probably have been one of the best too.  It’s essentially the climax of the play and there’s plenty of fun for everyone—cannibalism and death all around (four, I believe, is the count unless you include Demetrius and Chiron).  Unfortunately, even if everyone has good pacing and doesn’t die too quickly, this scene probably wouldn’t fit our fifteen to twenty minute requirement, so we agreed to also perform one of the previous scenes—the meeting between Tamora and her sons (disguised as Revenge, Rape, and Murder) and Titus.  It’s a good scene to have because it acts as a bit of a prelude, an explanation of sorts, for the meal that is to come. 

Because of my job as director, I’m going to have to somehow bring this scene to life.  I think my biggest challenge will be presenting a different vision than that of Julie Taymor.  I really enjoyed her movie and the way she directed the whole thing (especially that final climactic dinner party), but I don’t want my version to be an exact copy of hers.  As of now, I’m not sure how I want to go about this.  After today’s class on camp (and parody and pastiche) I’m hoping that some new ideas will come along.  I don’t really think Taymor’s version is campy; it’s more on the side of pastiche, if I have to label it.  Perhaps if I try to look at the work in another light I can find a vision of it that’s different enough from Taymor’s.  This will probably take more reflection on my part, but I’m confident that eventually it will all come together. 

September 11, 2008: Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene I, pages 94-99

For our scene from Romeo and Juliet (Act IV, Scene I) my group had specific ideas on how we wanted to portray the main characters (Paris, Juliet, and Friar Laurence) and that determined how we blocked out the particular scene. The interaction between Juliet and Paris was first. As we saw it, Paris believed that Juliet already belonged to him because despite the fact that they weren’t yet married, Lord Capulet had bequeathed her to him. At this point Juliet was already married and had no romantic interest in Paris; she wanted to avoid him entirely. To get this feeling across, we had Paris slowly advance towards Juliet as he spoke. We wanted him to get uncomfortably close to Juliet, to show the possessiveness of the character. Juliet, in turn, would react by moving away from him, showing her reluctance to even be near him. Once or twice she even walked around him to avoid him (although this was partially influenced by the amount of space we had, it worked well for the scene). In the second part of the scene between Juliet and Friar Laurence, we used blocking to emphasize the difference between the two characters’ state of mind. Juliet moved around a lot; her movements got more dramatic as her speech reached its peak. The friar, on the other hand, we had stay in the same spot throughout that part of the scene. We felt he was the levelheaded, grounded character in this scene. He remains calm during Juliet’s tirade, just as he is the calm planner throughout the play.

September 4, 2008: Romeo+Juliet

One of the most emotionally provocative scenes in Luhrmann’s Romeo+Juliet is the scene where Romeo confronts Tybalt at the fountain and kills him. Leonardo does a great job of moving flawlessly through Romeo’s rapidly changing emotions. When he first comes after Tybalt after Mercutio’s death, Romeo is furious. Leonardo shows it the most in his face; his eyes, brimming with tears, are narrowed in anger and he bares his teeth at Tybalt like an animal. He literally screams his lines and his voice sounds raw from overuse. When he does shoot Tybalt, that fury is brought up a notch. His eyes look like they’re closed, but when the camera zooms in on his face, you can see the tiny slit of his blue eyes and the tears that are blurring his vision. He screams the whole time he is shooting, the sound ragged, angry, and yet sad at the same time. All the rage, all the regret he is feeling comes out through that scream. When Tybalt finally falls dead into the fountain, Leonardo’s whole person changes drastically. His teary eyes open wide and you can see the shock and confusion all over his face. Now done screaming, his mouth hangs slightly open; his nostrils flare as he breaths heavily. He blinks slowly, as if trying to understand the situation. A single tear slowly slides down his cheek. Leonardo looks away and the camera pans down to his hand where the gun slowly slides out of his grip and to the ground. Now past the rage he felt before, the situation is bearing down on him. Leonardo’s facial expressions reflect his character’s astonishment and almost detachment from his actions.

August 28, 2008: Shakespeare in Love

It is not surprising that the main events in William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet are set in motion by two conflicting patriarchs, Lord Capulet and Lord Montague. This plot detail no doubt stems from the society in which Shakespeare lived—one that was ruled by white men. More often than not, the ones being ruled over were women. The actions and consequences of such authority are a large part of the movie Shakespeare in Love. Shakespeare’s lover, Lady Viola de Lesseps, is controlled by two such men: her father and her husband-to-be, Lord Wessex. Throughout the movie, Viola struggles against their control over her and their business-like approach to her future. The character Juliet, in turn, struggles against her father’s demands. In an act of rebellion, perhaps, both women fall in love with the one person they should not—Juliet with Romeo and Viola with Shakespeare. This direct defiance of the patriarchal rule carries over from Shakespeare’s world into his play. The white patriarchal rule becomes the driving force behind the events in Romeo and Juliet.