The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare

Because of Covid-19, theaters are closed here in California, and the Utah Shakespeare Festival is cancelled. Thus, I doubt I am going to have many chances to see live theater in the near future. We have been getting by with video sources, even though they are not the same. The Globe in London is releasing filmed performances of various plays, including this one.

 I first saw A Winter’s Tale at Bakersfield College about two decades ago. I can’t remember if I was dating my wife or recently married, but it would have been before kids complicated our theater life. Of course, eventually, they started coming with us, which has been all kinds of fun. 

 The Winter’s Tale is one of Shakespeare’s problem plays. Or maybe one of his late romances. Whatever you want to call it, it is a comedy in the sense of having a happy ending, but could easily have been a tragedy with a slightly different ending. 

 I find it fascinating in part because of the way Shakespeare separates the serious drama and the comedy. The first part of the play, set in “Sicilia,” is drama and tragedy. The second part, full of comedy and high spirits, is set in “Bohemia.” (The locations are obviously fictitious, because Bohemia then and now is landlocked, and does not have a coast as in the play.) At the end, the humor of Bohemia practically invades the traumatized Sicily and brings (literally) life back to it. 

 Shakespeare borrowed the plot from a story by Robert Greene, Pandosto. The original is a full tragedy, with the king killing himself after accidentally falling in love with his lost daughter. Shakespeare chose to dramatically change the ending, writing what is now one of the most iconic scenes in the play, when the statue comes to life. But I get ahead of the plot. 

 Leontes, king of Sicilia, is entertaining his childhood friend, Polixenes, king of Bohemia. Polixenes is homesick, and decides to return. Leontes tries to persuade him to stay, but is unsuccessful, until queen Hermione intervenes, and persuades Polixenes to stay. 

 Rather than please Leontes, this act makes him insanely jealous, imagining that Herminone is cheating on him with his friend. Furious, orders one of his lords, Camillo, to poison Polixenes. Instead, Camillo, convinced of the innocence of the queen, warns Polixenes and the two of them flee to Bohemia. Leontes then denounces the queen despite her pleas of innocence. Her tears are of no avail, he calls her unborn child a bastard, and throws her in prison. When the child is born, orders that she be abandoned to her death.

 Herminone appeals to the Oracle, which declares her innocent. Leontes is not convinced, despite the warning that he will have no heir until his lost daughter is found. As a result of his stubbornness, his son dies of a wasting sickness, and Herminone appears to die as well. 

 Bereft, Leontes comes to his senses at last, and realizes he is wrong. However, it is, at this point too late. 

 The courtier sent to abandon the daughter does so, but is chased away soon after, with Shakespeare’s most famous stage direction, “Exit, pursued by a bear.” This was a disappointing moment in this particular production, with just a banner with a picture of a bear unfurled. Was the bear suit at the cleaners or something? 

 The infant is found by a shepherdess (shepherd in the play, but a shepherdess in this production) and her son. 

The next act opens sixteen years later. The infant has grown into a lovely young woman, Perdita, who has caught the eye of Prince Florizel, who courts her in disguise. Polixenes, accompanied by Camillo, spies on them, and erupts in fury at their betrothal. After threatening Perdita and her adoptive family with horrid punishment, he orders them never to see each other. 

 Camillo has other ideas, however. He wishes to return to his native land, and takes Florizel and Perdita with him. 

 At the end of the play, all these identities are revealed, and father and daughter are reunited - and Florizel and Perdita can marry and clinch the alliance. 

 But there is one thing remaining. The faithful Paulina, widow of the unfortunate Autigonus, eaten by the bear, reveals that she has a peculiar statue, true to life of the dead Hermione. It is no spoiler this many centuries later to say that the statue is really Hermione herself, carefully tended by Paulina all these years. After sixteen years of penance, Leontes is a changed man, and finally worthy of Hermione. 

 A play like this, with its improbable plot, stands or falls on the quality of its direction and acting. The Globe, unsurprisingly, rose to the occasion regarding both. (My only quibble is the lack of a bear…) 

 While all of the male leads were good, I thought that the three females around whom the play centers were particularly outstanding. Sirene Saba, as Paulina, had tremendous stage presence and a projection of authority that was a perfect contrast to the unstable and irrational Leontes (Will Kean in a convincing performance.) Nora Lopez-Holden as Perdita brought the right level of exuberance and naivete to the role. Likewise, Luke MacGregor as Florizel seemed just the sort of ditzy prince to make a game of courting a shepherdess. Becci Gemmel, in a trousers role as the clow, Autocylus, was hilarious. Adrien Bower (Camillo), Oliver Ryan (Polixenes), and Howard Ward (Antigonus) were all suited to their parts. 

 Special props, though, go to Priyanga Burford as Hermione. She is every bit as commanding as Paulina, then vulnerable and shattered after the false accusations - but she retains her dignity throughout. The statue scene was incredible because of her ability. In previous versions, Hermione is posed in a neutral position, to make standing perfectly still easy. In this one, Burford held her arms in an artistic pose. For at least ten minutes. The level of control this must have required is astonishing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her during the whole scene. Since this was a filmed version of a live performance, this wasn’t done with camera cuts. She did this - night after night. Highly impressive.

The unjustly accused Hermione (center), with her irrational husband Leontes (right), as Paulina (left) looks on with horror.

Florizel and Perdita at the carnival.

 I also love that the Globe uses live musicians and music composed for the occasion. This was, like previous plays I have seen, a good bit of the fun. 

Unfortunately, by the time I got to writing this, the streaming of this play had ended. However, The Globe intends to continue to release past productions in two week increments, and I will be watching as many as I can. (Next up: The Merry Wives of Windsor.) 

 

Information about the plays can be found here.

The specifics for The Winter’s Tale are here.  

 

The Two Noble Kinsmen by William Shakespeare and John Fletcher

Ah, the Shakespeare Wars. Did Shakespeare co-write The Two Noble Kinsmen? What parts did he write? It is generally accepted now that Shakespeare and John Fletcher collaborated on this play, as they did on Henry VIII. 

Fletcher was Shakespeare’s successor at The Kings Men after Shakespeare retired, and it appeared he was groomed for the job. The two collaborations (plus a third that is lost) are the last works we have from Shakespeare. For some reason, my Complete Shakespeare contains Henry VIII, but not The Two Noble Kinsmen.

Because of Covid-19, theaters are closed here in California, and the Utah Shakespeare Festival is cancelled. Thus, I doubt I am going to have many chances to see live theater in the near future. We have been getting by with video sources, even though they are not the same. I didn’t review it, but Phantom of the Opera was on YouTube for a weekend, and the kids and wife watched By Jeeves one night. 

But best of all at this point, The Globe in London is releasing filmed performances of various plays, including this one. 

The plot of The Two Noble Kinsmen is taken from “The Knight’s Tale” in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Chaucer borrowed most of the story from Boccacio.There are references to two prior stage adaptations of the story in various writings, but the originals of those have been lost. Thus, Shakespeare and Fletcher’s version is the first that survives. 

There are a few changes from the original. A framing story is added to explain the battled which sets the plot in motion. The prison escape is different. But other than that, it basically follows Chaucer’s tale. 

The play opens with three queens presenting a petition to Theseus and Hippolyta, rulers of Athens. The cruel Creon has dishonored the corpses of their dead husbands, and refused them burial. (Yes, this does appear to be a borrowing from Sophocles. No, Theseus and Creon do not appear in the same story in Greek Mythology - this was Boccacio’s invention.) Theseus agrees to battle against Creon, and wins. 

Fighting on Creon’s side are two aristocratic cousins, Palamon and Arcite. They both loathe Creon’s cruelty, but feel duty bound to fight for their home city. Injured in the battle, they are captured and imprisoned by the Athenians. While in prison, they pledge eternal friendship, and are practically kissing on each other, when they spot Emila, Hippolyta’s sister, walking in the garden. They are so smitten with her that they fight over who has the right to woo her, coming to blows. 

Arcite is released from prison, but banished, after a relative intervenes. Palamon later escapes with the help of the jailer’s daughter, who has fallen in love with him. (This is a chance from Chaucer - in the original, Palamon poisons the jailer.) Arcite disguises himself and gets a job as bodyguard for Emilia. He finds Palamon half-starved in the forest and brings him food and drink - and weapons so that they can eventually fight each other over Emilia. Meanwhile, the jailer’s daughter goes mad over her unrequited love and runs away, eventually taking up with a dance troupe. 

Arcite and Palamon are discovered, and about to be executed, but Emilia and Hippolyta intervene. Theseus agrees to have the two of them fight each other. The winner gets the hand of Emilia, and the loser gets executed. Emilia is horrified (and not too happy about her lack of say in the matter, but...she’s just a woman in Ancient Greece, so…) but Arcite and Palamon are all in - this will solve their dispute, after all. 

Before the match, Arcite, Palamon, and Emilia all pray to their gods. Arcite asks Mars to give him victory in the battle. Palamon asks Venus to give him the hand of Emilia. And Emilia ask Diana to let her marry the one who loves her the best. 

In the event, all three prayers are answered. Arcite wins the battle, but is thrown from his horse afterward and mortally wounded. As he dies, he reconciles with Palamon and gives his blessing to marry Emelia. 

As Theseus says at the end:

Never Fortune 

Did pay a subtler game. The conquered triumphs; 

The victor has the loss; yet in the passage 

The gods have been most equal.

I wouldn’t say that this play is one of Shakespeare’s finest. The language is good (and Shakespeare’s portions flow really well), but it doesn’t reach the heights like in his best plays. The plot is interesting, of course, but it also bears some resemblance to The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Like that play, there are some interesting lines that hint at a non-heterosexual orientation of the characters. While the homoerotic element doesn’t last as long as in Two Gentlemen, the two lead men seem to have a closer than normal bond. 

Even more interesting, though, is Emilia, who seems pretty reluctant to marry. Early on, she mentions a childhood friend who died young, and says she can never love a man like she did Flavina. 

“The true love 'tween maid and maid may be 

More than in sex dividual.”

Her lady-in-waiting, who also seems...close to her, notes that she is breathing hard. Later, while praying to Diana (not Venus, interestingly - she picks the virgin goddess), she says:

This is my last 

Of vestal office. I am bride-habited 

But maiden-hearted.

Shakespeare is full of stuff like this: gender bending, complicated erotic bonds, and an acknowledgement that marriage (in the traditional, patriarchal sense) was an economic and political arrangement superimposed on a tangle of romantic and erotic attachments and preferences. 

While Emilia is reluctant to marry, this isn’t the normal way women in Shakespeare approach love and sex. Usually, the women are far from reluctant. Indeed, they are often more sexually aggressive than the men. The Jailer’s Daughter (never named) is in this category, relentlessly pursuing Palamon as she goes mad. 

She gets a happy ending, though. Her wooer (a young man who is never named) is enlisted to pretend to be Palamon and court her. His kindness and love (and perhaps sex - it is at least implied) wins her over and restores her sanity. By the end, it is clear that she and he will be happily married. 

The production itself was outstanding. It was set more or less in Medieval England, which made sense given the presence of a Morris Dance troupe. The music for the dance scenes (and throughout the play) was composed by Eliza Carthy, and performed by a small ensemble live on stage. (Depending on the piece, there were trombone, guitar, banjo, violin, and various percussion instruments. I heartily approve of this.) 

As Arcite and Palamon, Bryan Dick and Paul Stocker, respectively, were excellent. Ellora Torchia as Emilia was also outstanding - and believably beautiful enough to inspire two guys to lose their heads. The rest of the cast was great - unsurprisingly solid throughout. 

The show was stolen, however, by Francesca Mills as the jailer’s daughter. She is a Little Person with a long list of credits for acting, singing, and dancing roles. She did all three in this, and was just electric. I mean, when she was on stage, you could not keep your eyes off of her. Both in her sane and insane moods, she captured the character perfectly. 

This play will be streaming on YouTube through May 17, if you want to watch it. (Next up is A Winter’s Tale, which I plan to watch as well.) For more information, here is the website. 

 Grand Spectacle

 Arcite and Palamon

 Emilia

***

Over the years, I have seen 27 of the (arguably) 39 plays written by Shakespeare. I am not counting this one as “live,” but it is a wobbler - the video is of a live stage performance, not a movie adaptation. My wife has seen even more than I have, because of her annual trip to the Utah Shakespeare Festival. Anyway, here are the ones I have reviewed on this blog: 

All’s Well That Ends Well*

As You Like It*

Comedy of Errors*

Coriolanus* 

Hamlet* (Benedict Cumberbatch)

Hamlet* (Bakersfield College 2017)

Henry IV (Parts 1 & 2 adapted by Daniel Sullivan)

Julius Caesar*

Love’s Labour’s Lost*

Macbeth*

Measure for Measure

Measure for Measure* (BC 2018)

The Merchant of Venice*

Much Ado About Nothing*

Othello*

Pericles, Prince of Tyre*

Richard II

Richard II (Old Globe San Diego 2017)*

Romeo and Juliet*

The Taming of the Shrew*

Twelfth Night*

The Two Gentlemen of Verona*

* indicates the ones we have seen with at least some of the kids.

Tommy (Musical) - CSUB 2020

Right before California shut down most gatherings to shelter-in-place for Covid-19, we were able to attend CSUB’s production of Tommy. My eldest is a big classic rock fan, so we went together to see this. 

Written mostly by Pete Townshend, with contributions from Des McAnuff and the rest of the Who, Tommy is a rock opera that was originally an album centered on the song “Pinball Wizard.” It was adapted for stage in 1992, and that is the version we saw. 

The plot is a bit bizarre: young Tommy becomes deaf, blind, and dumb after witnessing his father (recently released from a POW camp) kill his mother’s lover after a fight. He remains unresponsive for years, until he turns out to be a pinball savant, playing entirely by feel. Later, his mother smashes the mirror in which Tommy saw the killing, and Tommy suddenly recovers his senses. He becomes a celebrity, but becomes disillusioned with the way his fans look to him as a spiritual leader, so he withdraws from public life to be with his family. 

College productions are a bit unpredictable, in part because the student talent varies from year to year. In general, CSUB has high production values, and often some great acting. The weakest part has typically been the dropoff from the best actors and singers to the lesser ones. In this case, this was apparent between the best singers and the ones that were in a bit over their heads. 

The good news is that the part of the adult Tommy was played by Natalie Love, who was excellent. Also outstanding in a bit part was Jan Mateo Tugab, with electrifying dance moves and solid singing. The overall ensemble was good, but a few of the singers tended to drift on pitch from time to time when singing alone. 

The live band was a real treat. Anchored by local pro and veteran of several outstanding local bands, drummer Cesario Garaza, the band was tight all night, well balanced, and energetic. For the most part, it was pros, not students - and that is how they sounded. For me, that was the best part. 

I also loved the creative set, which evoked a pinball machine. Whoever handles set design and construction at CSUB deserves major props for both creativity and craftsmanship - sets have been consistently great for years. 

It is sad right now that all theater in the state of California is shut down indefinitely, although I support the decision. I am looking forward to a return to normalcy, and will be out there supporting our local arts scene as usual. 

 CSUB needs more publicity photos - this is the only one I could find.

Annie (Musical)

There are some things that are in our culture that we kind of take for granted and collectively “know” without being aware of their genesis or history. One of these things is the mythology surrounding a little orphan girl with red hair named Annie. Or Anne, or some variant thereon. Key elements include the red hair, the age (11 or so), the shocking yet charming personality, and the older man whose heart is melted by the girl. 

While many cultural myths have their origins shrowded in misty obscurity, the “Annie” myth has a definite beginning. Poet James Whitcomb Riley’s 1885 poem “Little Orphant Annie” was actually based on a real person: Mary Alice “Allie” Smith, an orphan girl who came to work as a servant in the Riley household when the poet was a child. The girl probably wasn’t an “orphan” in the sense of having dead parents, but was, like many orphans of the Victorian Era, a child whose parents couldn’t care for her for a variety of reasons. As such, she was cared for until she could (at a rather young age) work as a servant for her keep. As in the poem, the real life “Annie” told fantastic tales of horror to the children of the household. In a weird twist of fate, the name “Annie” was entirely an accident. Riley intended that “Allie” be used - but the printer bolloxed it up, and it was too late to fix. And thus, we have “Annie” as the quintessential orphan girl name ever after. 

It isn’t too hard to trace the eventual family tree of Annie. The Raggedy Ann dolls and the stories that followed. Anne of Green Gables. And, of course, the whole “Annie” Industrial Complex which arose over time. It is why when most of us think about an orphan girl, the spunky red-headed Annie/Anne is the first character which comes to mind. 

The musical was inspired by the comic strip created by Harold Gray in the 1920s and 30s. The strip ran for decades, and followed the adventures of Annie and her benefactor, the immensely wealthy Oliver “Daddy” Warbucks. Looking back, the strip was rather on the reactionary side, taking political shots at the New Deal, unions, and other progressive ideas. It also was in the vein of the stories of Horatio Alger - who is both the best known purveyor of the central American myth, and one of the most misunderstood authors of all time. We Americans often think of Alger as writing stories where hard work and bootstrapping raise a worthy young man from poverty to respectability - or even wealth. This is the Great American Myth™, of course. A person, no matter what their background, can rise - if only they work hard enough. And it occasionally is true. But it is more true that white, middle class boys become...white middle class adults. And the United States actually has rather low social mobility compared to other developed countries. Your socioeconomic status - and your race - are the biggest factors in your destiny. So the great American myth is mostly that - a myth. 

But also, the Horatio Alger story is most decidedly NOT a story of bootstrapping and hard work. It is amazing to me that more people don’t know this. The Horatio Alger story is actually this: poor boy who has character gets an amazing chance to perform an extraordinary act of bravery or honesty for a...wait for it...VERY RICH MAN, who then rewards his character with benevolence which gives the boy a chance to make good. 

That’s a very different narrative than our national myth. It’s more a story of Karma - goodness rewarded by luck. And actually, it seems remarkably similar to the narrative that many white people like to tell about young African American boys who dream of sports stardom. 

So, the Annie myth, at its core, is the same idea. A young girl makes good despite her poverty by a combination of her character and personality and a stroke of luck. This is less central to Anne of Green Gables, of course. Her “chance” is just the chance of a normal life with eccentric but definitely not wealthy people. (Which is why Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert remain delightful and timeless characters, while Oliver Warbucks seems hopelessly dated.) 

If anything, the idea of the billionaire industrialist as a force for good, rather than an exploiter, hasn’t aged well at all. Time and observation have proven that the Gilded Age (and the Roaring 20s for that matter) was indeed a time when the powerful preyed on the impoverished - much like our current age, come to think of it. Only doctrinaire libertarians (well, and the current GOP) truly believe that the cure for starvation wages is to kill unions, or that the real cause of the Great Depression was that the government didn’t give enough money to billionaires. In reality, the major economic catastrophes of the last century have been caused by unregulated rich people playing games to chase high return rates. And we are still (for now…) reaping the dividends of the New Deal and the Great Society. The best chance for a good life for most of us has come, not by being adopted by a billionaire, but by such radical ideas as a living wage, socialized retirement and medical care, and a belief that the wealthy have a responsibility to further the common good. 

On that note, let me discuss the musical, which opened in 1977, a decade after Harold Gray’s death. The musical itself is related to the comic, but takes significant liberties with the story. Of most significant note, in the musical, Oliver Warbucks is the world’s most eligible bachelor. In the comic, he is married to a harridan of a wife, who hates Annie, and sends her back to the orphanage whenever Oliver is called away on an extended business trip. (Thus the decades-long run of the comic - the same basic plot could be extended endlessly. Think of Shakespeare and Prince Hal’s “relapse” that enabled Henry IV Part II…) Of necessity, the musical had to reduce a rather long narrative arc into a short episode. 

Despite the differences, the same rather dated plot ideas dominate: a spunky young girl catches the attention and affection of an obscenely wealthy industrialist, and lives the life of dreams. The female version of the Horatio Alger story and the Great American Myth. Just be good (and cute and white) and a rich person will rescue you. As I said, the plot seems dated as hell. 

The musical, though, depends not so much on the plot - which, as I noted, is practically a standard in the American cultural imagination - but on the memorable songs and the acting of Annie. As a kid, my dad would sing bits from “Tomorrow” - one of the few songs he consistently got the lyrics right for in those pre-internet days. 

So, about the local production. We saw it locally at Stars Theatre Restaurant, in part because my high schoolers have a friend in it. I loved that they still use live music, even though the venue doesn’t allow for a full orchestra like it did when I used to perform with them 25 years ago. The band sounded great this time, I must say. Likewise, the vocal quality of the ensemble was good - community theater is by definition a bit uneven on that. You work with what you have in any case. But this show attracted generally excellent singers. 

There were some other highlights. Bruce Saathoff was convincing as Oliver Warbucks. He is a regular of local theater, although he has directed more than acted as of late. He struck a nice balance of imposing and vulnerable in the role. Rosie Ayala was delightful as the nefarious Miss Hannigan. I was somewhat surprised at Randy Jelmini’s turn as Franklin Roosevelt. He never quite got the British accent right in Crazy for You (and has mostly been known in local theater for tireless support and deep pockets rather than acting), but he was hilarious as the President. The pacing and diction were spot on, with perfect comedic timing. I won’t mention all the rest of the ensemble (in part because I keep missing people), but I will mention that overall, the other parts were good. 

The title part went to Addison Cline, the daughter of local fixtures in the theater community here in Bakersfield. When we saw Matilda last year, she was one of the actors in the title role, but not on the night we were there. Addison is all of 10 years old but already has a tremendous stage presence - and some serious pipes. I will particularly note (with approval) that she pulled some difficult notes out of the air on entrances. One of the things that I love most about the local theater scene is that so many are devoting serious time and effort to training the next generation of thespians. (I know some of these people personally, and they deserve serious props.) Bakersfield tends to be the butt of jokes in national media, but we have a vibrant arts scene. It is easy to feel inferior living next door to a cultural Mecca like Los Angeles - but in many ways that competition has spurred us to a higher commitment to artistic values. 

Anyway, despite some eye-rolling at the dated plot, we had a good time. The music and acting carried the musical. And I’m still finding myself singing “Tomorrow.” 

 Stars publicity photo - unfortunately, they don't post enough of them.