Anne Francis stars in Forbidden Planet
Most of the last twenty-four hours were composed densely of fail, to the point that in self-defense I purchased a pound each of pistachio and almond flour and the book on Francis Bacon I had been eyeing for some weeks now at Raven Used Books; this is an accidental conjunction. I do not have the skills required to bake a meringue in the shape of a scream-streaked Pope, much as I'm now curious to do so. I met
nineweaving at Burdick's, read a poem by John Stallworthy. It rained drearily and a passerby with an importunate umbrella tried to knock off my hat. The evening, thank God, involved dim sum and Forbidden Planet (1956), which I watched with Eric et al. for the first time since high school. Robby the Robot. Morbius—a philologist: knowing I loved my books—in his unconscious magician's black. Electronic tonalities, theremin and tape loops: the sonic landscape of science fiction that we now take for granted. I love J. Michael Straczynski, but I can't imagine what the projected remake will look like. By a similar token, while I am looking forward immensely to Julie Taymor's take on The Tempest, I do not understand Prospera. If Cate Blanchett can out-Dylan Zimmerman and Tilda Swinton illumine Gabriel and Orlando, Helen Mirren should make a magnificent Prospero, damn the pronouns and full speed ahead. This is Shakespeare. It comes with built-in genderfuck. At least I have the filmed War Requiem (1988) to look forward to, if I can find a region-free DVD player. Benjamin Britten by Derek Jarman with Wilfred Owen besides.
thomasfreund, I'm looking at you. These are the chains my brain runs in: I can't fall asleep before I free-associate another link, but at least I can stop typing.

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Nine
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Well, yes.
Does your DVD player not have a hack, to make it multi-region?
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Damn right. If the idea of a female Prospero bothers anyone, they can just imagine she's wearing a hat and hey presto. She's a man.
Well, it works in any other Shakespeare comedy!
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Love this, and I'd just been thinking, while reading your post, Oh, what travels through Sonya's brain! The chain analogy is perfect, though I hope it doesn't rattle too much for sleeping.
All this talk about The Tempest. My daughter's middle school is performing it tonight (twelve- to fourteen-year-olds, with my daughter a narrator this time around--yes, she was disappointed but stuck to it, loves drama). I don't know how much the kids get out of Shakespeare, but I do love hearing my daughter throw out a line or two of his, with emotional flourish, in ordinary conversation. She has nearly the entire play memorized from practicing so much.
As for Prospero, he's being played by her friend Eric, who is an adorable, flamboyant, demonstrative, perverted (I hear) 14-year-old who calls my daughter to coordinate wearing their duplicate purple pants, who streaks his long hair and wears it before his eyes, and whom all the girls love. I'm eager to see what he does with Prospero.
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Hmm, Prospera sounds odd, but Helen Mirren should be able to pull it off.
I hope you can find the region-free DVD player soon. That sounds lovely.