I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after

[sovay]

I do not like the trailer for Joss Whedon's Much Ado About Nothing. Partly it's that I am not a Whedon person: I didn't fall in love with any of his shows (The Avengers surprised me), so the prospect of a cast stocked entirely from his regular company does not fill me with anticipation of old home week/the best crossover ever (Wesley and Fred and Mal Reynolds and Phil Coulson and Topher and Simon Tam and I had to look most of these people up) so much as a slight distrust, because the only actor in that parenthesis who ever really caught my eye was Clark Gregg and I don't consider him a Jossverse discovery. Mostly it's that five seconds into the trailer I was trying to figure out why the swing-themed black-and-white contemporary house porn and ten seconds after that I was ranting at derspatchel about the dialogue. I am hoping it's a function of the pull quotes, but everyone in the cast seems to have exactly one register of voice. I can't hear any resonance, any range. It's all the same dry kind of flat. And the wit and cut of the language is instantly lost. You can make a case for Much Ado About Nothing as the prototype of the screwball comedy, with unexpectedly sharp outcroppings of cruelty and loss. (Look closely at the Hero/Claudio plotline, honestly, and it starts edging out of romance into problem play.) It has verbal fireworks, it has whip-smart repartee, it has characters who are identifiable instantly by their speech patterns and I'm not talking only about Dogberry's malaprops. It has fantastic flyting and chilling seriousness. The actors have to be in tune with all of that. I don't mean that you can't play it naturalistically, but you cannot play it monotone—"By this day, she's a fair lady" cannot read the same as "By this hand, I love thee." And that's all I hear in the trailer. It's my hope I am mistaken, or it's a not very good trailer for a perfectly reasonable film. But right now I want either to rewatch scenes from the 1993 version (which I don't own) or get someone from the Anarchist Society of Shakespeareans to direct one. Other recommendations are welcome.

(As a form of self-medication, I am catching up on Tumblr. A couple of days ago, when I was distracted, handful_ofdust posted me a succession of Leslie Howard gifs from The Stand-In (1937), a wonderful meta-joke of a film I love (and wrote about clumsily, but sometimes that happens). I will never cease to appreciate his willingness to look like a total nerd—I like him in horn-rims, but they do him no favors. Henry Higgins has an even worse pair. I will never cease to be faintly amazed that all sorts of people who weren't me thought he was beautiful.)

Comments

[papersky.livejournal.com]

I just want to add a huge "Me Too" to all this.

Except that I have the Branagh version on DVD where I can watch it whenever I want a picnic. That and the Kevin Kline Midsummer are my strongest examples of how you can too make Shakespeare work as film, and both of them do it by paying attention to the words.

[snowy-owlet.livejournal.com]

I'm with you on the Kline Midsummer - the fairies are not my favorite in that but OH the mechanicals. The lovely, sweet, sad mechanicals. Bill Irwin, call me!

Also with swan_tower about Robert Sean Leonard in the 93 Much Ado. His "turned up to 11" performance is just right. Oh, and the sun. I am usually anti-sun, but in that movie, it's so rich/golden/molten/relax.

[sovay]

Bill Irwin, call me!

Hee. I saw him once onstage as Frosch in Die Fledermaus—a non-singing role, part (by tradition) improvised and pure clowning. There are rather too many footnotes in this writeup and I am kind of embarrassed about the siren line, but Irwin actually was that good. I still remember some of the physical comedy he did, including a bit with a seltzer bottle that had to be straight out of vaudeville. Also the filing cabinets.

I am usually anti-sun, but in that movie, it's so rich/golden/molten/relax.

What do you have against the sun usually?

[snowy-owlet.livejournal.com]

Have you seen Illuminata? I saw it only once years ago, but I remember the film fondly.

Oh, I'm a pale person who doesn't like hot weather living in Houston - grousing about the sun is a survival tactic. Of course, I also complain about the Wicked Stepchildren getting taller than I, even though their persistent march toward gianthood represents the coming time when we will pick up and head to more reasonable climes.

[sovay]

Have you seen Illuminata? I saw it only once years ago, but I remember the film fondly.

No—talk to me about it.

[snowy-owlet.livejournal.com]

My distant memory calls up shabby clothing, a shabby stage, and melancholy actors fighting with a difficult play.

Now I want to see it again.

[sovay]

My distant memory calls up shabby clothing, a shabby stage, and melancholy actors fighting with a difficult play.

Directed by John Turturro! With turn-of-the-century theatrical New York setting! Why have I never even heard of it?

[snowy-owlet.livejournal.com]

It has been patiently biding its time, waiting for the right moment to enter your inner mythology.

[sovay]

Except that I have the Branagh version on DVD where I can watch it whenever I want a picnic.

At least I found the script while I was packing! With Branagh's notes at the end: "Prize for most time-consuming moment. Scene one. Shot one. Take 1. (No, make that a record-breaking take 29.) This move, from a first full-frame view of the painting, ending up on a close-up of Beatrice sitting in the tree, involved the perfect coordination of sun, actors, camera track and zoom, cleavage, bare chests, bread slicing, song lyrics, and donkey. It took a while." I am going to re-read it tonight.

That and the Kevin Kline Midsummer are my strongest examples of how you can too make Shakespeare work as film, and both of them do it by paying attention to the words.

I still need to see that. I started skipping Midsummers after I'd seen five or six and while I still think weirdquark and gaudior and the rest of us were right to walk out on Shakespeare on the Common's in 2007, that's how I missed seeing derspatchel and Socko together for the first time in 2011. In any case, I have never caught up on the Kevin Kline film. How do you feel about all of it? The only filmed Midsummer I've seen is the 1935 and that is a mixed bag except for James Cagney.

[papersky.livejournal.com]

I kind of like the 1935 one, but yes.

The Kevin Kline one has nearly perfect mechanicals and a very fine Puck, and I also like the implicit acknowledgement (which isn't in the text) of what Hippolyta is giving up.

But essentially this is a film about an amateur dramatics society who get caught up in wider events. And mechanicals bits made me cry twice, once at Bottom's "methought I was... methought I had" speech and once, astonishingly. during Pyramus and Thisbe.

I will also remain eternally grateful to this film for coming so well upon its moment. Z was six and a half, and the perfect age for it. We saw it three times in the cinema, before anyone could ever suggest to him that Shakespeare was supposed to be hard. So he has loved Shakespeare ever since, when so many people have it spoiled for them by the weight of "supposed to be hard" and "supposed to be culture" rather than "tons of fun".

[sovay]

I kind of like the 1935 one, but yes.

(Its mechanicals are great. Joe E. Brown, ad-libbing. I'd have been interested to see Olivia de Havilland in the part she auditioned for, Puck.)

But essentially this is a film about an amateur dramatics society who get caught up in wider events.

That is a very neat interpretation and I should see that.

So he has loved Shakespeare ever since, when so many people have it spoiled for them by the weight of "supposed to be hard" and "supposed to be culture" rather than "tons of fun".

I also got lucky: I don't remember ever being instructed that Shakespeare was difficult or out of my sphere. My grandparents took me to his plays as they would to any other form of theater—the first one I read for class was Romeo and Juliet, but my mother is fairly certain the first one I saw was Twelfth Night, sometime in elementary school.

[justice_turtle]

Olivia de Havilland in the part she auditioned for, Puck.

Dammit, why do all the best movies have to be in other universes where I can't get at them? *claws at the fourth wall* :-(

[sovay]

Dammit, why do all the best movies have to be in other universes where I can't get at them?

I have frequent attacks of this complaint. Buster Keaton in Grand Hotel. Robert Newton in Wuthering Heights. On the stage side, George Sanders in South Pacific. And now Anthony Perkins in Company. You could furnish a festival from the ones that got away.