10 Shakespeare Quotes For New Year’s Eve

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For when you skip the New Year’s Eve party to read and drink wine and then fall asleep at 10 p.m. because you don’t actually want to talk to anyone:

Good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used.
– Othello

For when your roommate’s lonely brother (or sister) comes to the party and follows you around talking about how much he (or she) loves The Big Bang Theory:

I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
For I am falser than vows made in wine.
Besides, I like you not.
– As You Like It

For when the party you’re invited to ends up being filled with dude-bros who don’t understand how you find time to read when there’s so much other fun stuff to do, like streaking and painting your face at sports functions:

Hell is empty
And all the devils are here.
– The Tempest

For when someone gives you their cab:

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world.
–The Merchant of Venice

For when someone steals your cab:

Thou art a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver’d, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mungril bitch.
– King Lear

For when you see Ryan Seacrest hosting the ball drop:

One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
– Hamlet

For when the party is just horrible and you have to leave right now and go home and put on your Snuggie:

Exit, pursued by a bear.
– The Winter’s Tale

For the morning after:

A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished
– Romeo and Juliet

For when you get into a fight with your significant other right before the midnight kiss:

Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
– Much Ado About Nothing

For when you want to feel better about not making any resolutions:

But ’tis a common proof
That lowliness is young ambition’s ladder,
Whereto the climber upward turns his face.
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend.
– Julius Caesar

 

Original Post:
BookRiot: 10 Shakespeare Quotes For New Year’s Eve

Merken

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REBLOG: British Council – #ShakespeareNoFilter

Reblogged from: Scarlet’s Web (BookLikes)

www.shakespearelives.org/explore/shakespearenofilter

As part of our Shakespeare Lives programme, we are retelling three of the Bard’s most iconic plays through the lens of Instagram! Set throughout Europe, these modern adaptions will inspire and intrigue. This is where you can catch up with the stories so far, and on Instagram you can follow @britishcouncileurope to watch them unfold in real time…

#ShakespeareNoFilter | British Council

#ShakespeareNoFilter | British Council

#ShakespeareNoFilter | British Council

http://www.shakespearelives.org/explore/shakespearenofilter

Original post:
ThemisAthena.booklikes.com/post/1453590/shakespearenofilter

9 Things You Absolutely Must Do In London If You Love Books And Literary History | Bustle

  • British Library – check (though it’s been a while & could use a refresher).
  • Bloomsbury – check.
  • Shakespeare’s Globe – check. (Duh.)
  • St. Pancras and
  • George Inn – on the list for next time.
  • English Heritage plaques – check (you’d have to be blind to miss them).
  • Foyle’s / Charing Cross / indie bookstores – check. (Duh.)
  • 221B Baker St. – check.
  • Tube / Oyster Card / do your own literary London thing – check … it’s one of the main reasons why I keep going to London in the first place! 🙂

 

  
Shakespeare’s Globe: outside; and cast (including Mark Rylance and Stephen Fry) and director (Dominic Dromgoole) taking standing ovations at the 2012 season’s last performance of “Twelfth Night.” (Photos mine.)

 

Source: 9 Things You Absolutely Must Do In London If You Love Books And Literary History | Bustle

REBLOG: Here’s What Shakespeare’s Plays Sounded Like With Their Original English Accent

This is beyond awesome.

Reblogged from: Libromancer’s Apprentice (BookLikes)

 

twentytwowords.com/performing-shakespeares-plays-with-their-original-english-accent

 

Hey, Troy – this strikes me as something you’d be interested in.

I’m loving the jokes that they’re discovering b/c of this.

 

Original post:
ThemisAthena.booklikes.com/post/1450932/here-s-what-shakespeare-s-plays-sounded-like-with-their-original-english-accent

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

A Dainty Dish

Ever since his Oscar-nominated Henry V adaptation, Kenneth Branagh has come up with a simple, effective recipe: Blend 3 parts English actors well-versed in all things “Bard” with 1 or 2 parts Hollywood, sprinkle the mixture liberally over one of Shakespeare‘s plays, lift the material out of its original temporal and local context to provide an updated meaning, and garnish it by casting yourself and, until the mid-1990s, (then-)wife Emma Thompson in opposite starring roles.

In Much Ado About Nothing, that formula works to near-perfection. A comedy of errors possibly written in one of the Bard‘s busiest years (1599) – although as usual, dating is a minor guessing game – Much Ado lives primarily from its timeless characters, making it an ideal object for transformation à la Branagh. Thus, renaissance Sicily becomes 19th century Tuscany (although the location’s name, Messina, remains unchanged); and the intrigues centering around the battle of the sexes between Signor Benedick of Padua (Branagh) and Lady Beatrice (Thompson), the niece of Messina’s governor Don Leonato (Richard Briers), and their love’s labors won – possibly the play’s originally-intended title*; and indeed, Benedick and Beatrice are a more liberated version of the earlier Love’s Labor’s Lost‘s Berowne and Rosaline – as well as the schemes surrounding the play’s other couple, Benedick’s friend Claudio (Robert Sean Leonard) and Beatrice’s cousin Hero (Kate Beckinsale) become a light-hearted counterpoint to the more serious, politically charged intrigues of novels such as Stendhal’s Charterhouse of Parma and Scarlet and Black: As such, the military campaign from which Benedick and Claudio are returning with Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon (Denzel Washington) at the story’s beginning could easily be one associated with Italy’s 19th century struggle for nationhood.

While according to the play’s conception it is ostensibly the relationship between Hero and Claudio that drives the plot – as well as the plotting by Don Pedro’s illegitimate brother, Don John (Keanu Reeves) – Beatrice and Benedick are the more interesting couple; both sworn enemies of love, they are not kept apart by a scheming villain but by their own conceit, and are brought toghether by a ruse of Don Pedro’s (although even that wouldn’t have worked against their will: “Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably,” Benedick once tells Beatrice.) And while Don John’s machinations create much heartbreak and drama once they have come into fruition, the story’s highlights are Benedick’s and Beatrice’s battles of wits; the sparks flying between them from their first scene to their last: even in front of the chapel, they still – although now primarily for their audience’s benefit – respond to each other’s question “Do not you love me?” with “No, no more than reason,” and when Benedick finally tells Beatrice he will have her, but only “for pity,” she tartly answers, “I would not deny you; – but … I yield upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption” – whereupon Benedick, most uncharacteristically, stops her with a kiss.

Branagh‘s and Thompson‘s chemistry was still unblemished at the time when this movie was made, and it works to optimum effect here.  And while every Kenneth Branagh movie is as much star vehicle for its creator as it is about the project itself, Benedick’s conversion from a man determined not to let love “transform [him] into an oyster” into a married man (because after all, “the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor I did not think I should live – till I were married”!) is a pure joy to watch. Emma Thompson‘s Beatrice, similarly, is an incredibly modern, independent young woman; and scenes like her advice to Hero not to blindly follow her father’s (Don Leonato’s) wishes in marrying but, if necessary, “make another courtesy and say, Father, as it please me” only enhance the play’s and her character’s timeless quality.

Yet, while the leading couple’s performances are the movie’s shining anchor pieces, there is much to enjoy in the remaining cast as well: Richard Briers’s Don Leonato, albeit more English country squire than Italian nobleman, is the kind of doting father that many a daughter would surely wish for; and what he may lack in Italian flavor is more than made up for in Brian Blessed’s Don Antonio, Leonato’s brother. Kate Beckinsale is a charming, innocent Hero and well-matched with Robert Sean Leonard’s Claudio (who after Dead Poets Society seemed virtually guaranteed to show up in a Shakespeare adaptation sooner or later); as generally, leaving aside the appropriateness of American accents in a movie like this, the Hollywood contingent acquits itself well. Washington’s, Leonard’s and Brier’s “Cupid” plot particularly is a delight (even if Washington might occasionally have gained extra mileage enunciation-wise). Keanu Reeves, cast against stereotype as Don John, is a bit too busy looking sullen to realize the role’s full sardonic potential: “melancholy,” in Shakespeare‘s times, after all was a generic term encompassing everything from madness to various saner forms of ill humor; and I wonder what – but for the generational difference – someone like Sir Ian McKellen might have done with that role. But as a self-described “plain-dealing villain” Reeves is certainly appropriately menacing. Michael Keaton’s Dogberry, finally, is partly brother-in-spirit to Beetlejuice, partly simply the eternal stupid officer; the play’s boorish comic relief and as such spot-on, delivering his many malaproprisms with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek.

The cast is rounded out by several actors who might well have demanded larger roles but nevertheless look ideally matched for the parts they play, including Imelda Staunton and Phyllida Law as Hero’s gentlewomen Margaret and Ursula, Gerard Horan and Richard Clifford as Don John’s associates Borachio and Conrade, and Ben Elton as Dogberry’s “neighbor” Verges. (In addition, score composer Patrick Doyle stands in as minstrel Balthazar.) With minimal editing of the play’s original language, a set design making full use of the movie’s Tuscan setting, and lavish production values overall, this is a feast for the senses and, on the whole, an adaptation of which even the Bard himself, I think, would have approved.


* At least according to one theory.  Another theory has it that Love’s Labours Won is the title of a different, now lost play.

 

Production Credits /
Cast and Crew

Production Credits
  • Studio: Renaissance Films / BBC / American Playhouse Theatrical Films (1993)
  • Director: Kenneth Branagh
  • Producers: Kenneth Branagh / David Parfitt / Stephen Evans
  • Screenplay: Kenneth Branagh
  • Based on a play by: William Shakespeare
  • Music: Patrick Doyle
  • Cinematography / Director of Photography: Roger Lanser
Cast
  • Kenneth Branagh: Benedick
  • Emma Thompson: Beatrice
  • Richard Briers: Leonato
  • Robert Sean Leonard: Claudio
  • Kate Beckinsale: Hero
  • Denzel Washington: Don Pedro
  • Keanu Reeves: Don John
  • Michael Keaton: Dogberry
  • Brian Blessed: Antonio
  • Imelda Staunton: Margaret
  • Phyllida Law: Ursula
  • Richard Clifford: Conrade
  • Gerard Horan: Borachio
  • Jimmy Yuill: Friar Francis
  • Ben Elton: Verges
  • Edward Jewesbury: Sexton
  • Patrick Doyle: Balthazar

 

Major Awards

London Critics Circle Film Awards (1993)
  • British Producer of the Year: Kenneth Branagh
Evening Standard British Film Awards (1993)
  • Best Actress: Emma Thompson
    – Also for “The Remains of the Day.”

 

Favorite Quotes:

“I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.”

“If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening …”

“Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.”

“LEONATO: Well, then, go you into hell?
BEATRICE: No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say ‘Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here’s no place for you maids:’ so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.”

“LEONATO: Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
BEATRICE: Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I’ll none: Adam’s sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.”

“DON PEDRO: Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick.
BEATRICE: Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.
DON PEDRO: You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.
BEATRICE: So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools.”

“Yes, faith; it is my cousin’s duty to make curtsy and say ‘Father, as it please you.’ But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say ‘Father, as it please me.”

“Wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty like a Scotch jig – and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.”

“Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.”

“For it falls out
That what we have we prize not to the worth
Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost,
Why, then we rack the value, then we find
The virtue that possession would not show us
While it was ours.”

“To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.”

 

Links

The Complete Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare (BBC)

The Gold Standard

In 1978, the BBC ambitiously set out to produce all of Shakespeare‘s 37 plays for television. (Alright – so it’s 38 … so they didn’t include The Two Noble Kinsmen, which is cribbed from Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale anyway. But who’s counting beans?) With casts featuring the better part of British acting nobility, including some promising (then-)newcomers, the enterprise was completed in two launches with distinct creative approaches and, for all occasional frictions in continuity, remains a one-in-a-kind endeavor: the gold standard every Shakespeare enactment must either meet or fall short of in comparison; for truthfulness to the Bard’s intent as much as for stellar acting and production values. While the complete series has since been made available on DVD in region 2 (European) and 4 (Australian) encoding, only 20 of the plays have also been released in region 1 (North American) format, in two sets of five tragedies, as well as one set each of comedies and histories: one might have wished for some additions, or more sets overall; but all available compilations are worth their price’s every penny.

Tragedies

Laced with murderous schemes, revenge, and the search for justice, love, and peace of mind, Shakespeare‘s tragedies delve into the human mind’s darkest recesses; exploring greed, envy, ambition, guilt, remorse, and pure evil next to compassion, generosity, humility, and innocence, all interwoven in timeless plots unmatched in variety, construction, and richness of characters. Interpretation is substantially left to the actors: Despite Hamlet’s litany of directions to the Players appearing in that tragedy’s “play-within-the-play” – directions representing Shakespeare‘s own grievances, including his irritation with comedian Will Kempe’s tendency for spotlight-seeking beyond his scenes’ actual confines (therefore, “let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them. For [some] will … set on [the uninformed] spectators to laugh …, though [meanwhile] some necessary question of the play [must] be considered. That’s villanous and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it,” Hamlet quips) – the ultimate actors’ playwright gives few express stage directions, leaving his own players considerable freedom, and making the world wonder, ever since their Globe Theatre premiere: What’s driving the Prince of Denmark – madness? revenge? indecision? something else entirely? Is Claudius, that tragedy’s king, evil incarnate or a man wrecked with guilt? Is Othello’s antagonist Iago bent on revenge because he “hate[s] the Moor,” or giddily enjoying his malicious plots’ every second? How much capacity for guilt has Macbeth ultimately left: is he truly, thoroughly corrupted, or has something of the king’s loyal thane remained inside him?

Region 1 Set 1
Hamlet

The set’s natural centerpiece, both for its preeminence among Shakespeare‘s plays and for this production’s superb quality, is Hamlet, the Bard‘s four-hour-long adaptation of the Danish Amleth saga. As the Prince, Derek Jacobi – the legitimate heir to Laurence Olivier and John Gielgud, and mentor to Kenneth Branagh – gives a lifetime’s performance: if you only know him as Claudius the Stutterer from the magnificent adaptation of Robert Graves’s I, Claudius, or as Cadfael from the equally magnificent series based on Ellis Peters‘s books, you’re in for a truly unexpected treat. For Jacobi‘s first love is the theater, and it shows: with near-unmatched insight into Shakespeare‘s world (particularly this play and its title character), he makes the Prince of Denmark all his own, in a portrayal easily on par with the best in existence. There’s no pulling of punches here, no wavering like Olivier’s; but no genuine madness, either – just pure, unrestrained passion, often swinging between emotional extremes within seconds: I wonder whether Mel Gibson’s vaguely similar approach in Franco Zeffirelli’s 1990 movie was based on a study of Jacobi‘s performance. The production also features Patrick Stewart as a Claudius covering emotions from Macchiavellian intrigue to deeply-felt guilt, Claire Bloom as an unrivaled, regal, but very vulnerable Getrude, Eric Porter as scheming master politician Polonius (never mind that Hamlet calls him a “tedious old fool”), Robert Swann as one of the strongest Horatios I’ve ever seen, Emrys James as a wonderfully congenial Player King, Lalla Ward as a sweet, but not too sweet Ophelia, David Robb as impetuous Laertes, Tim Wylton as the First Gravedigger and Peter Gale as Osric (both milking their scenes to optimum, but never over-the-top effect), and an outstanding cast rounded out by Patrick Allen (the Ghost), Ian Charleson (Fortinbras), Jonathan Hyde (Rosencrantz), Geoffrey Bateman (Guildenstern), and Paul Humpoletz (Marcellus).

Macbeth

The “Scottish Play”‘s impact rests almost entirely on the shoulders of its title character and his lady, and those of Nicol Williamson and – particularly – Jane Lapotaire’s breathtaking Lady Macbeth provide strong support indeed for the Thane-of-Glamis-turned-king (and murderer) and his ruthlessly ambitious wife. Brenda Bruce, Eileen Way and Anne Dyson scare you near-witless as the witches, maliciously mock-echoed by James Bolam’s Porter, and besides Ian Hogg’s Banquo and Tony Doyle’s Macduff, among the production’s most impressive performances are Jill Baker’s and Crispin Mair’s (Macduff’s wife and son).  One of my other great favorites in the entire series, and easily my second favorite in the first set of tragedies released in region 1 format.

Romeo and Juliet

If you can get over the decidedly dated (and at best, um, partly successful) set decoration and costume, Patrick Ryecart and Rebecca Saire as star-crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet (through whose story we’re guided by John Gielgud’s Chorus) are every bit as youthfully innocent but determined as Franco Zeffirelli’s and Baz Luhrman’s Leonard Whiting, Olivia Hussey, Leonardo di Caprio and Claire Danes.  Moreover, there’s Anthony Andrews as a captivatingly flamboyant Mercutio, a snapshot view of a very young Alan Rickman as brash Tybalt, plus Michael Hordern’s as always expert Capulet, and Celia Johnson’s deadpan Nurse.

Othello

In the play that keeps me wanting to climb into the screen (or onto the stage) and yell, “Othello, wake up!!,” Anthony Hopkins gives a tour-de-force performance as the Moor (“the part [he’d] always wanted to play,” he is quoted); yet, he’s almost upstaged by Bob Hoskins’s deliciously, mirthfully evil Iago. Penelope Wilton’s Desdemona is all blameless righteousness; and the production wouldn’t be the same without the spot-on performances of Anthony Pedley (Roderigo), David Yelland (Cassio), and Rosemary Leach (Emilia).

Julius Cesar

In Shakespeare‘s look at the Ides of March from Caesar’s murderers’ and heir’s perspective, finally – that play without heroes or villains – the four principals are well-divided among Richard Pasco (Brutus), Keith Michell (Mark Antony), Charles Gray (Caesar) and David Collings (Cassius), while Virginia McKenna (Portia) and Elizabeth Spriggs (Calphurnia) make the most of roles easily overlooked in weaker actresses’ hands.

Tragedies – Region 1 Set 2
  • King Lear
  • Anthony & Cleopatra
  • Coriolanus
  • Timon of Athens
  • Titus Andronicus
Histories – Region 1
  • Richard II
  • Henry IV, Part I
  • Henry IV, Part II
  • Henry V
  • Richard III
Comedies
  • As You Like It
  • The Taming of the Shrew
  • The Tempest
  • A Midsummer Night’s Dream
  • The Merchant of Venice
The Collection’s Other Plays

(Region 2 & 4 encoding only.)

Tragedies
  • Cymbeline
  • Pericles
  • Troilus and Cressida
Histories
  • Henry VI, Part 1
  • Henry VI, Part 2
  • Henry VI, Part 3
  • Henry VIII
  • King John
Comedies
  • Measure for Measure
  • Much Ado About Nothing
  • The Comedy of Errors
  • Twelfth Night
  • All’s Well That Ends Well
  • The Merry Wives of Windsor
  • Love’s Labour’s Lost
  • The Two Gentlemen of Verona
  • The Winter’s Tale

 

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RICHARD III (Ian McKellen)

Villany Unveiled

A gala ball: The York family celebrate their reascent to power; the Wars of the Roses (named for the feuding houses’ heraldic badges: Lancaster’s red and York’s white rose) are almost over. Actually, the year is 1471, but for present purposes, we’re in the 1930s. A singer (Stacey Kent) delivers a swinging “Come live with me and be my love.” Richard of Gloucester (Sir Ian McKellen), the reinstated sickly King Edward IV’s (John Wood’s) youngest brother, moves through the crowd; observing, watching his second brother George, Duke of Clarence (Nigel Hawthorne) being quietly led off by Tower warden Brackenbury (Donald Sumpter) and his subalterns. With Clarence gone, Richard seizes the microphone, its discordant screech cutting through the singer’s applause, and he, who himself made this night possible by killing King Henry VI of Lancaster and his son, begins a victory speech: “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York” (cut to Edward, who regally acknowledges the tribute). But when Richard mentions “grim-visaged war,” who “smooth’d his wrinkled front,” the camera closes in on his mouth, turning it into a grimace reminiscent of the legend known to any spectator in Shakespeare‘s Globe Theatre: that he wasn’t just born “with his feet first” but also “with teeth in his mouth;” hence, not only crippled (though whether also hunchbacked is uncertain) but cursed from birth, his physical deformity merely outwardly representing his inner evil.

Then, mid-sentence, the image cuts again. Richard enters a bathroom; and as he continues his monologue we see that only now, relieving himself and talking – with narcissistic pleasure – to his own image in the mirror, he truly speaks his mind; contemptuously dismissing a war that’s lost its menace and “capers nimbly in a lady’s bedchamber,” and determining that, since he now has no delight but to mock his own deformed shadow, and “cannot prove a lover,” he’ll “prove a villain and hate the idle pleasures of these days.”

Thus, Richard’s first soliloquy, which actually opens the play on a London street, brilliantly demonstrates the signature elements of this movie’s (and the preceding stage production’s) success: not only its updated 20th century context but its creative use of settings and imagery; boldly cutting and rearranging Shakespeare‘s words without anytime, however, betraying his intent. Indeed, that pattern is already set with the prologue’s murder of King Henry VI and his son, where following a telegraph report that “Richard of Gloucester is at hand – he holds his course toward Tewkesbury” (slightly altered lines from the last scenes of the preceding King Henry VI, Part 3) Richard himself emerges from a tank breaking through the royal headquarters’ wall, breathing heavily through a gas mask: As his shots ring out, riddling the prince with bullets, the blood-red letters R-I-C-H-A-R-D-III appear across the screen.

And as creatively it continues: Richard woos Lady Anne (Kristin Scott Thomas), Henry’s daughter-in-law, in a morgue instead of a street (near her husband’s casket), and later drives her into drug abuse. Henry’s Cassandra-like widow Margaret is one of several characters omitted entirely; whereas foreign-born Queen Elizabeth is purposely cast with an American (Annette Bening), whose performance has equally purposeful overtones of Wallis Simpson; and whose playboy-brother Earl Rivers (Robert Downey Jr.) dies “in the act.” Clarence is murdered while the rest of the family sits down to a lavish (although discordant) dinner. When upon his ally Lord Buckingham’s (Jim Broadbent’s) machinations, Richard is “persuaded” to take the crown, he emerges from a veritable film star’s dressing room complete with full-sized mirror and manicurists (sold to the attending crowd outside as “two deep divines” praying with him). Tyrrell (Adrian Dunbar), already one of Clarence’s murderers, quickly rises through uniformed ranks, and moves from regular army to SS, as he further bloodies his hands. Richard’s and Elizabeth’s final spar over her daughter’s hand takes place in the train-wagon serving as his field headquarters; and we actually see that same princess wed to his arch-enemy Richmond (Dominic West), King Henry VII-to-be and founder of the Tudor dynasty, with lines taken from Richmond’s closing monologue. Perhaps most importantly, we also witness Richard’s coronation, which Shakespeare himself – honoring that ceremony’s perception as holy – decided not to show; although even here it is presented not as a glorious procedure of state but only in a brief snippet rerun immediately from the distance of a private, black-and-white film shown only for Richard’s and his entourage’s benefit.

And challenging as this project is, its stellar cast – also including Maggie Smith (a formidable Duchess of York), Jim Carter (Prime Minister Lord Hastings), Roger Hammond (the Archbishop), and Tim McInnerny and Bill Paterson (Richard’s underlings Catesby and Ratcliffe) – uniformly prove themselves more than up to the task: Indeed, although the single largest spotlight is clearly on McKellen‘s Richard, the movie’s other performances are so strong that the film comes across very much like an ensemble piece of the highest order.

Even if the temporal setting didn’t already spell out the allegory on the universality of evil that McKellen and director Richard Loncraine obviously intend, you’d have to be blind to miss the visual references to fascism: the uniforms, the gathering modeled on the infamous Nuremberg Reichsparteitag, the long red banners with a black boar in a white circle (playing up the image of the boar Shakespeare himself uses: similarly, Richard’s and Tyrrell’s first meeting is set in a pig-sty, and Lord Stanley’s [Edward Hardwicke’s] prophetic dream follows an incident where Richard, for a split-second, loses his self-control). But the imagery goes even further: Richard’s narcissism is reminiscent of Chaplin’s Great Dictator; and you don’t have to watch this movie contemporaneously with any Star Wars installment to visualize Darth Vader during his gas mask-endowed entry in the first scene.

“[T]hus I clothe my naked villany with odd old ends stol’n out of holy writ; and seem a saint when most I play the devil,” Richard comments in the play: if there’s one line I regret to see cut here it’s this one, for it so clearly encompasses the way many a modern despot assumes power, too; by cloaking his true intent in the veneer of formal legality. Even so: this is a highlight among the recent decades’ Shakespeare adaptations; under no circumstances to be missed.

 

Production Credits /
Cast and Crew

Production Credits
  • Studio: British Screen Productions / United Artists (1995)
  • Director: Richard Loncraine
  • Executive Producers: Ian McKellen / Maria Apodiacos / Ellen Dinerman Little / Joe Simon
  • Screenplay: Ian McKellen / Richard Loncraine
  • Based on a play by: William Shakespeare
  • Music: Trevor Jones
  • Cinematography / Director of Photography: Peter Biziou
Cast
  • Ian McKellen: Richard III
  • Annette Bening: Queen Elizabeth, wife of Edward IV
  • Maggie Smith: Duchess of York
  • Kristin Scott Thomas: Lady Anne
  • Jim Broadbent: Duke of Buckingham
  • Jim Carter: Lord William Hastings
  • Nigel Hawthorne: George, Duke of Clarence
  • John Wood: King Edward IV
  • Robert Downey Jr.: Lord Rivers
  • Edward Hardwicke: Lord Thomas Stanley
  • Tim McInnerny: Sir William Catesby
  • Bill Paterson: Sir Richard Ratcliffe
  • Adrian Dunbar: James Tyrell
  • Donald Sumpter: Brackenbury
  • Dominic West: Earl of Richmond
  • Roger Hammond: Archbishop Thomas
  • Edward Jewesbury: King Henry VI
  • Stacey Kent: Ballroom Singer

 

Major Awards

BAFTA Awards (1997)
  • Best Production Design: Tony Burrough
  • Best Costume Design: Shuna Harwood
Evening Standard British Film Awards (1997)
  • Best Film: Ian McKellen
  • Best Technical/Artistic Achievement (Production Design): Tony Burrough
European Film Awards (1996)
  • Best Actor: Ian McKellen
Berlin International Film Festival (1996)
  • Best Director: Richard Loncraine
    Tied with Ho Yim for “Taiyang you er” (The Sun Has Ears)

 

Links

William Shakespeare: The Sonnets

Shakespeare's SonnetsLord of my love, to whom in vassalage …

Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I send this written embassage,
To witness duty, not to show my wit.
(Sonnet No. 26)

How to do justice to the legacy of literary history’s greatest mind – moreover in such a limited review? Forget Goethe’s “universal genius” and his rebel contemporary Schiller; forget the 19th century masters; forget contemporary literature: with the possible (!) exception of three Greek gentlemen named Aischylos, Sophocles and Euripides, a certain Frenchman called Poquelin (a/k/a Moliere), and that infamous Irishman Oscar Wilde, there’s more wit in a single line of Shakespeare‘s than in an entire page of most other, even great, authors’ works. And I’m not saying this in ignorance of, or in order to slight any other writer: it’s precisely my admiration of the world’s literary giants, past and present, that makes me appreciate Shakespeare even more – and that although I’m aware that he repeatedly borrowed from pre-existing material and that even the (sole) authorship of the works published under his name isn’t established beyond doubt. For ultimately, the only thing that matters to me is the brilliance of those works themselves; and quite honestly, the mysteries continuing to enshroud his person, to me, only enhance his larger-than-life stature.

The precise dating of Shakespeare‘s sonnets – like other poets’, a response to the 1591 publication of Sir Philip Sidney’s Astrophil and Stella – is an even greater guessing game than that of his plays: although Nos. 138 and 144 (slightly modified) appeared in 1599’s Passionate Pilgrim, most were probably circulated privately, and written years before their first – unauthorized, though still authoritative – 1609 publication; possibly beginning in 1592-1593.

Format-wise, they adopt the Elizabethan fourteen-line-structure of three quatrains of iambic pentameters expressing a series of increasingly intense ideas, resolved in a closing couplet; with an abab-cdcd-efef-gg rhyme form. (Sole exceptions: No. 99 – first quatrain amplified by one line –, No. 126 – six couplets & only twelve lines total –, No. 145 – written in tetrameter –, and No. 146 – omission of the second line’s beginning; the subject of a lasting debate.) Their order is thematic rather than chronological, although beyond the fact that the first 126 are addressed to a young man – maybe the Earl of Pembroke or Southampton, maybe Sir Robert Dudley, the natural son of Queen Elizabeth’s “Sweet Robin,” the Earl of Leicester – (the first seventeen, possibly commissioned by the addressee’s family, pressing his marriage and production of an heir), and Nos. 127-152 (or 127-133 and 147-152) to an exotic woman of questionable virtues only known as “The Dark Lady,” even in that respect much remains unclear; including the nature of Shakespeare‘s relationship with the two main addressees, regarding which the sonnets’ often ambiguous metaphors invoke much speculation. No. 145 is probably addressed to Shakespeare‘s wife; the closing couplet plays on her maiden name (“[‘I hate’ from] hate away she threw And saved my life, [saying ‘not you’]:” “Hathaway – Anne saved my life”), several others contain puns on the name Will and its double meaning(s) (exactly fourteen in the naughty No. 135: “Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will;” and seven in the similarly mischievous No. 136), and the last two draw on the then-popular Cupid theme. Sometimes, placement seems linked to contents, e.g., in No. 8 (music: an octave has eight notes), Nos. 12 and 60 (time: twelve hours to both day and night; sixty minutes to an hour); and in the famous No. 55, which praises poetry’s everlasting power and as whose never-expressly-named subject Shakespeare himself emerges in a comparison with Horace’s Ode 3.30 – in turn written in first person singular and thus, denoting its own author as the builder of its “monument more lasting than bronze” (“Exegi monumentum aere perennius”) – as well as through the number “5”‘s optical similarity to the letter “S,” making the sonnet’s number a shorthand reference for “5hake5peare” or “5hakespeare’s 5onnets,” echoed by numerous words containing an “S” in the text.

Of indescribable linguistic beauty, elegance and complexity, Shakespeare‘s sonnets owe their timeless appeal to their supreme compositional values, the universality of their themes, and their keen insights into the human heart and soul; as much as their transcendence of the era’s poetic conventions which, following Petrarch, heavily idealized the addressee’s qualities: a form new and exciting twohundred years earlier, but encrusted in cliché in the late 1500s. Indeed, Shakespeare‘s “Dark Lady” Sonnet No. 130 owes its particular fame to its clever puns on that very style, which went overboard with references to its golden-haired, starry- (beamy-, sparkling, sunny-) eyed, cherry- (strawberry-, vermilion-, coral-) lipped, rosy- (crimson-, purple-, dawn-) cheeked, ivory- (lily-, carnation-, crystal-, silver-, snowy-, swan-white) skinned, pearl-teethed, honey- (nectar-, music-) tongued, goddess-like objects. “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;” the Bard countered, proceeded to describe her breasts as “dun,” her hair as “black wires,” and her breath as “reek[ing],” and denied her any divine or angelic attributes. “And yet,” he concluded: “by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.”

Arguably, Shakespeare‘s very choice of addressees (a young man – also the subject of the famously romantic No. 18: “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day;” the first of several sonnets promising his immortalization in poetry – as well as the “Dark Lady,” in turn introduced under the notion “black is beautiful” in No. 127) itself suggests a break with tradition; and compared to his contemporaries’ poetry, even the equally-famous No. 116’s on its face rather conventional praise of love’s constancy (“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments”), echoed in the poet’s vow to vanquish time in No. 123, sounds fairly restrained. But ultimately, Shakespeare‘s sonnets – like his entire work – simply defy categorization. They are, as rival Ben Jonson acknowledged, written “for all time,” just as the Bard himself immodestly claimed:

‘Gainst death and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
(Sonnet 55)

A Favorite:

Sonnet 130:
“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.”

 


One-page edition of Shakespeare’s sonnets (photo mine)

William Shakespeare: The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark (Folger Library Edition)

Hamlet - William ShakespeareTo thine own self be true …

William Shakespeare‘s Hamlet is arguably the most famous play ever written in the English language; it presents the world with questions and characters that have been the subject of thespian and scholarly debate ever since the Prince of Denmark’s first appearance on the stage of London’s Globe Theatre. Probably written and first performed in 1601 (estimates vary between 1600 and 1602), the play draws on Saxo Grammaticus’s late 12th/early 13th century chronicle Gesta Danorum, which includes a popular legend with a similar plot centering around a prince named Amleth; as well as several more contemporaneous sources, primarily Francois de Belleforest’s Histoires Tragiques, Extraicts des Oeuvres Italiennes de Bandel (1559-1580), which expands on the story told in the Gesta Danorum, and a lost play known as the Ur-Hamlet (i.e., original Hamlet), sometimes also attributed to Shakespeare, but equally likely written by a different author a few decades earlier. Another work frequently cited in this context is 16th century playwright Thomas Kyd’s Spanish Tragedie.

Pursuant to Shakespeare‘s wishes and like all of his works, Hamlet was not immediately published, and the original manuscript did not survive. However, in the absence of copyright laws or other forms of protection of what today would be called the playwright’s intellectual property rights, first bootleg copies (so-called quartos) based on transcripts made during or after performances began to appear in 1603. Yet, it would not be until 1623 – seven years after Shakespeare‘s 1616 death – that his former fellow actors John Hemmings and Henry Condell published 36 of his plays (including this one) in a collection known as the First Folio.

As no print version of any of Shakespeare‘s plays has a bona fide claim to its author’s first-hand blessings, ever since the Bard‘s death the world is left with numerous questions about his characters’ motivations and psychological makeup; first and foremost, in this particular case: who is this Prince of Denmark anyway, and what’s driving him – is he a reluctant suicide or reluctant avenger? A Renaissance man? Wrecked by Freudian guilt? Genuinely mad, or merely putting on a clever act of deception? Or is he someone else entirely? – Indeed, we’re even left in doubt as to what exactly it was that Shakespeare meant his characters to say, with all attendant interpretative consequences: Does the Prince wish for his “too too sullied” or his “too too solid” flesh to “melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a dew” in his first major soliloquy (Act I, Scene 2)? Does he really contemplate “the stamp of [that] one defect” which may fatally taint the perception of a man’s other virtues, “be they as pure as grace,” before meeting his father’s ghost (I, 4)? Does Polonius, when sending Reynaldo on a spying mission after Laertes, refer to his scheme as “a fetch of wit” or “a fetch of warrant” (II, 1)? Do Hamlet’s musings in “To be, or not to be” (III, 1) concern “enterprises of great pith and moment” or “of great pitch and moment,” whose “currents turn awry and lose the name of action” by his doubts? Does or doesn’t the sight of the Norwegian army while Hamlet is on his way to England (IV, 4) prompt him, who has so far failed to carry out his purpose, to reflect “How all occasions do inform against me,” and conclude his soliloquy with the vow “from this time forth my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth”?

How you answer any of these questions, and how you consequently view the play’s characters, depends in no small part on the text you read. Like all Folger Shakespeare editions, this one is based on what the editors have deemed the “best early printed version,” while allowing the reader a unique direct comparison of the principal reliable versions by including a text essentially combining these versions, with unobtrusive markers characterizing those passages appearing only in one particular version. For Hamlet, the editors eschewed the play’s very first (1603) quarto, which was possibly compiled by a journeyman actor and whose inconsistencies with all subsequent versions (textually as well as plot-wise and even regarding character names) have caused it to be generally considered a “bad” quarto, in favor of the 1604 Second Quarto, which some even believe to be based on Shakespeare‘s own first draft of the play and which, in any event, while more extensive than the 1623 First Folio (in turn, thought to be closest to the version(s) actually produced on the Globe Theatre stage), boasts about as secure a claim of authenticity as the latter. In some instances, the text follows the Second Quarto (Q2) without visually alerting the reader to the differences vis-a-vis the First Folio (F1), thus compelling those more used to the latter version to seek out the extensive end notes to reassure themselves that (in the examples given above) it might indeed be “solid flesh,” “warrant,” and “pith and moment” (F1) instead of “sullied flesh,” “wit,” and “pitch and moment” (Q2). In other instances, however, the First Folio’s language (clearly marked as such) is given preference over that of the Second Quarto; while crucially, the text also includes all those passages *only* contained in the latter, including the “stamp of one defect” and “bloody thoughts” monologues, whose interpretation has such a direct bearing on many a reader’s understanding of Hamlet’s character.

The text is amplified by illustrations and annotations for those unfamiliar with 16th century English, scene-by-scene plot summaries, a short biography of Shakespeare, and introductory and concluding essays on this and the Bard‘s other plays and on Shakespearean theatre, as well as extensive suggestions for further reading, and a key to the play’s most famous lines. While it is unlikely that after 400 years of debate any one version, be it in print, on stage or on screen, will be able to generate unanimous acceptance as the “definitive” rendition of this complex play, this is an excellent starting point for an in-depth excursion into the Prince of Denmark’s world.

Hamlet and Horatio in the cemetery - Delacroix EugeneEugène Delacroix: Hamlet and Horatio in the Cemetery
(1839, Musée du Louvre, Paris, France)

 

Favorite Quotes:

“This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.”

“Brevity is the soul of wit.”

“What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.”

“Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade.”

“Not a whit, we defy augury: there’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ’tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.”

“Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.”

“Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?”

 

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One-page edition of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet (photo mine)

Merken