All Those Things I Should've Written Before...
Play!
It’s the production currently on at the Haymarket directed by Trevor Nunn.
The supporting cast were solid, and the Player King was a lovely mix of ragged, knowing, louche and world weary - plus he was made up to look a little like Shakespeare which was a lovely touch.
The sets were elegant and effective, as was the lighting. All places were evoked with the minimum of expended effort and to the maximum of effect allowing the play to run through its different locations beautifully smoothly.
The play itself was edited down to about two hours, cutting some of Guildenstern’s more random philosophizing and allowing Rosencranz a fairer piece of the action. There were a few odd lines I would have cut out on top of that as I felt they didn’t work, but I’m not sure if that’s Stoppard’s script showing its age or just the actors not doing it right.
As for the two leads… Their timing on the banter was very slick.
R’s running back and fourth after Hamlet like a frightened puppy was lovely as was his ‘I just wanted to make you happppyyyyyy!’ and his ‘oh ffs not again’ mutter when Hamlet was delivering his ten millionth soliloquy.
G’s look of abject horror as he realizes their fate is sealed followed by his spitting anger as he blames the Player King and finally his attempt at bluff and indifference was rather like the 7 stages of grief in minature and very well done.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t that taken with their performances in general. Guildenstern strutted about and proclaimed all his lines as if he was acting an actor acting a part. He also wasn’t half as shrewd as the script claims him to be. Rosencrantz was overly gay. (And yes, I’d like to clarify that statement!) I have no issue believing those two are shagging. If you squint you can pull evidence from the text. That’s fine by me. What does annoy is a foolish camp character who is supposed to be funnier simply because he’s gay. Yeah, I know, humour is very subjective. Sigh. I dunno, I like to suppose humour has moved on from Up Pompeii and the Carry On films and that Stoppard’s script doesn’t need cheap tricks to pull it off. Ah well.
Altogether it was an enjoyable evening as I adore the play, but I felt the casting was a little off.
Games!
Keziah and Antoine still aren’t dead. Which gets steadily more impressive as they go along. They’re further embroiled in politics which neither have the head for and both dislike. Kez also has a jade and opal necklace. The storyteller keeps muttering gleefully about ‘Queen of the Rat God is my favourite book - heehee!’ which is more than a little worrying and leading us to bleakly suppose the necklace is hideously cursed. Dammnit!
Pokey!
Me: Look after yourself, you idiot!
Them: Tfeh. Or what? You’ll beat me up?
Me: No…. I’ll beat me up.
Them: …… damn. Alright, I’ll be good.
Tea and sociability!
Went to the Thursday market in Greenwich. Bought a handful of bone beads, and met up with spacedmonkey who recognized me due to my coat being military-ish, doom, and shambly repellant. (My coat was smug.) Flopped with tea in a pub and happily burbled about SH, Undone, neurons, cats, the world, and assorted random. It was meekle. (And singularly like comment bombing each other on lj - just without the typing =) Had planned to stay for longer and go in search of lunch; but half my neurons had fallen over through lack of sleep and the other half were looking dizzy so I scampered.
I gave a gifting of a tattered Arker Captain’s tunic and a shoe box of oddness.
I was given some shiny beads and a bottle of vodka.
Later I was unexpectedly given an apology, a sixpence, an ebony walking cane and a lollipop. Which was altogether impressive as my apologies are never that elegant =P
Subtext!
Began re-watching M7 with Ketch. Had forgotten just how lovely some of the lines and all of the interaction was. Also forgotten quite how unbelievably gutter-bound my brain goes watching this. For example:
Vin: *slouches up awful close to Chris. Looks at Buck* You with us?
Subtext: Mine.
Buck: *looks at Chris* He with you?
Subtext: Dude, have you started havin’ your tail away again?
Chris: *nods*
Subtext: Not yet but sure gonna.
Buck: *shifts his shoulders then smiles*
Subtext: Damn, that puts me out. Still least you might not be so grouchy if you’re getting some.
Buck: There gonna be ladies where you’re going?
Subtext: If I can’t chase you can I chase skirt?
Chris: I imagine so.
Subtext: Sure, knock yourself out.
Chris: Think you can handle it?
Vin: Like lickin’ butter off a knife.
Me: Is that one of those old west euphemisms?
Chris: *grins*
Me: Why did I even ask.
Chris: …there’s a man on the roof with a rifle pointed at your head.
Vin: *racks rifle*
Ketch: Why did Vin wait ‘til then? Oh - was it so Chris could watch him load his weapon?
Me: Yes, yes he wanted Chris to see him cock his gun. Oh god neurons shut up!
Judge Travis is asking the 7 if they’ll stay at the town…
Vin: I got business to attend to…
Me: Yeah, Larabee.
Vin: But it’ll keep.
Me: Eh? Not the way you two look at each other it won’t! Oh, you mean that bounty hunting stuff. Yeah. Tascosa. Sure.
It’s early morning. Mary Travis runs out of her house screaming that her son has gone.
Vin appears, not quite fully dressed.
Shortly after Larabee appears, looking pissed off.
Chris: *gives Mary an especially sour sideways look.*
Subtext: My morning was set t'be a hell of a lot better before your bitchin’ hadn’t high-tailed Vin out of my bed!
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Okay, and now I really have to do some damn work. And not fall asleep. Or throw a flid. And stop eating the misshapen chocolates I got given.
Neurons, I challenge you!