All the world's a stage...
Categories: just-life
Date: 04 July 2009 20:49:16
There is something to be said for a well performed play. I don't get to see them very often (been a few years since my last... King Lear I think) but I have always enjoyed them.
I used to think that it would be a lot of fun to do read-throughs of some of Shakespeare's plays. Well, some of the shorter ones at least. A bunch of friends and somewhere to perform.
Somewhere like;
A nice amphitheatre in which to perform. I think that it's even still there and hasn't been destroyed with the general rebuilding work that's been going on in the Marina area. Not as nice as it used to be though, as there used to be an actual stage with exits 'stage left/right' as well.
I am currently rereading through the 'Thursday Next' series of books by Jasper Fforde. This is set in a slightly different reality where books/plays have a slightly greater importance than they do now. In one of the books Thursday (our heroine) goes to see Richard III which has an almost Rocky Horror cult status. Not only do the audience participate, all the actors are picked from audience members half an hour before the show starts, but the audience call out and make... helpfull... suggestions.
"There was a moment's pause and then the curtains reopened, reveling Richard at the side of the stage. He limped up and down the boards, eyeing the audience malevolently past a particularly ugly prosthetic nose.
'Ham!' yelled someone at the back.
Richard opened his mouth to speak and the whole audience erupted in unison:
'When is the winter of our discontent?'
'Now,' replied Richard with a cruel smile, 'is the winter of our discontent...'
A cheer went up to the chandeliers high in the ceiling. The play had begun. Landen and I cheered with them. Richard III was one of those plays that could repeal the law of diminishing returns; it could be enjoyed over and over again.
'... made glorious summer by this son of York,' continued Richard, limping to the side of the stage. On the word 'summer' six hundred people placed sunglasses on and looked up at an imaginary sun."
- The Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde