I just got back from seeing Oliver Stone’s W and, since I’m writing again, I wanted to share my thoughts about it with you. But since it’s Saturday, I thought I’d do it as an anagram.

I chose a speech where Shakespeare apologizes for the inadequacies of the stage to depict the lives of kings. Perhaps it will mitigate the anagrammed review to follow.

From Henry V:

O! for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention;
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene.
Then should the war-like Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that hath dar’d
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confin’d two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts:
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance;
Think when we talk of horses that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth;
For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there, jumping o’er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

Shift around the letters, and it becomes:

After seeing Oliver Stone’s W, I don’t know what I’m supposed to make of it.

A humdrum bio-pic? How do you paint an intimate portrait of a person who isn’t reflective?

A thorough historical piece? No. They skip the key moments of his presidency and hop through the punchlines and nicknames (Guru, Genius, etc.). And his happy-hour past? Chugs, not drugs.

A dark comedy? Man, it’s too soon for humor. The joke’s on us.

A peek at the decision to take out Iraq? Hardly. Those scenes were as fluffy as my popcorn. I was hungry for more.

A high political drama? Primary Colors offers insight into Clinton. This limited film provides only a caricature of W.

Furthermore, I thought Newton and even Brolin got lost in the karaoke impressions they used. On the other hand, Scott Glenn as grumpy thug Rumsfeld and Jeffrey Wright as thoughtful gent Powell were not credible in their characters.

Mr. Dreyfuss as warmonger Cheney and Ms. Banks as earthier Laura threaded that tough needle handily; they brought forth people in accordance with their characters.

The standout of the group was patriarchal James Cromwell as Bush Sr., his dad. The tricky father/son relationship (fights, in lieu of hugs) is the human heart of the film. But nothing is ever resolved.

The film W tried to eke out too many things without doing any of them particularly well. It had many inaccurate facts, had no clear direction, and lasted too long. In short, it was W.

When director Kenneth Branagh set the opening speech of Henry V in a movie lot, he was announcing a new philosophy for putting Shakespeare on film. This philosophy is well explored in his latest film, As You Like It. It’s not a perfect film, but I greatly enjoyed watching it, and I expect to give it many more viewings in the near future and likely for years to come.

Shakespeare was writing for the stage, but Branagh has the ability to show with vivid action events that Shakespeare could only describe. In some cases, that worked well, like in the exciting palace coup in the beginning. In other cases, I missed Shakespeare’s language. Believe it or not, actually seeing Orlando wrestle with the lion was far less satisfying than those times when I’ve heard Oliver describe it.

Branagh set his film in Japan, a bold choice that is supported by an on-screen description of 19th century British enclaves in Japan. This had the potential to draw a much sharper distinction between those fleeing the court and the rustics of the forest. However, Branagh contrived to allow Corin and Audrey to remain English. Both actors did a fine job, but an opportunity was lost. Phoebe and Silvius seemed to be English actors of Asian descent. Only the character of William truly embodied the potential of setting the play in a 19th century Japanese forest. I was left wondering why the film was set in Japan at all. Still, the external trappings of the Japanese setting were visually impressive. I enjoyed the ninja soldiers and Charles as sumo wrestler, the Japanese characters and kimonos, but in the end, there seemed to be very little actual consequence to choosing Japan as a setting.

I enjoyed most of the performances, but I feel that Phoebe and Silvus were botched, in that their relationship was not well articulated. I would not have minded if the issue was simply that they didn’t remain faithful to the play, but I didn’t know what they were supposed to be. Most troublingly, the lines explaining the “bargain” between Phoebe and “Ganymede” in the end were cut, and so we don’t even know why Phoebe is marrying Silvius. In general, there were more script cuts than I generally like to see, but again, Branagh is adapting for another medium and we must allow for the conventions of film.

I’ve always felt that Rosalind carries this play on force of personality, and Branagh found a wonderful Rosalind in Bryce Dallas Howard. Adrian Lester is brilliant in everything he does, and this is no exception. But the real standout for me was Brian Blessed in the double role of Duke Senior and Duke Frederick. As the former, he is able to set one of the main themes of the play - the contrast between the false court and the natural world of Arden. As the latter, he movingly demonstrates the transformation and ultimate redemption of the evil Duke in a way that I’ve never seen before, nor found more satisfying.

As You Like It continues to run on HBO. I highly recommend checking it out!

I had the pleasure of seeing Richard III at Nicu’s Spoon Theatre. I had a wonderful experience, and I would recommend it to any fan of the play (it’s my favorite) who is in the New York City area.

The title role was played by Henry Holden, who has an artificial leg and used crutches to get around the stage. This was presented as Richard’s deformity. However, the actor skillfully embodied such a deformity of spirit in the role that the artificial leg was quickly overshadowed. This physicality was especially important, since Holden only spoke the lines that Richard speaks to the audience. When Richard was in public, his lines were spoken by a second actor, Andrew Hutcheson, who was positioned upstage left with a lectern and a reading light, while Holden remained as the physical Richard.

Typically, such production concepts turn me off immediately, but it worked particularly well here, in no small part due to the richly resonant voice of Hutcheson who overflowed the small house with Shakespeare the way it was meant to be performed. (His bio says he toured as the Beast in Beauty and, so that should give you a sense of the instrument at work here.) Also, having two actors playing Richard highlighted the contrast between Public Richard and Private Richard. The director (Heidi Lauren Duke) also had the freedom to underscore the more poignant moments by having a character deliver a line addressed to Richard to Hutcheson instead of Holden, or to have both actors speak a line in unison. And Hutcheson turning off his reading lamp to signify Richard’s death was a nice touch.

It would be difficult to review this show without mentioning the performance of Wynne Anders in the role of Queen Margaret. That’s a fantastic role, and she was absolutely riveting every moment she was on stage. But for me, the standout performance of the show was in the role of Queen Elizabeth, played by Rebecca Challis. In the scene with Richard, after he has killed her children, I could really feel her pain and hatred. That’s a tough scene (my favorite), and she nailed it.

Tickets are a steal at $18, and the theatre is conveniently located at 38 W 38th Street, between 5th and 6th Avenues. Hurry if you want to see it; the play is only running one more week. It closes on July 29.

If you do see the show, you can discuss it in the comments section of this post. If you really like the show, you can give them some good buzz at the New York Innovative Theatre Awards website.

WARNING: Comments may contain further discussion of the show, including potential spoilers.

If you’re in the New York City area, you should check out A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Theater Ten Ten. I don’t want to give too much away, but let me tell you a little about the production I saw on Friday night.

It’s difficult to do something original, and yet supported, with this play, but director Judith Jarosz manages to pull more than a few surprises out of her bag of tricks that even a wary Shakespeare snob would have trouble nitpicking. Anticipate standout performances in the roles of Puck (Annalisa Loeffler), Hermia (Tatiana Gomberg), and Helena (Lynn Marie Macy), that not only challenge traditional interpretations of these characters, but also find new interpretations that really do work. And musical director/composer Jason Wynn deserves a special mention for some of the most memorable moments of the production.

Tickets are a bargain at $20, and the theatre is conveniently located on the upper east side of Manhattan, 1010 Park Ave., between 84th Street and 85th Street. The play runs through March 11. You can find more information on their website, including information on how to reserve tickets.

If you do see the show, you can discuss it in the comments section of this post. If you really like the show, you can give them some good buzz at the New York Innovative Theatre Awards website and help them get some additional funding. They’re a small theatre that does strong work, and can use all the support they can get. You can start by treating yourself to this wonderful show.

WARNING: Comments may contain further discussion of the show, including potential spoilers.

Now, the gloves come off.

I’ve blogged about gay muppets, the Iraq War, and the sexual proclivities of a certain 13th century Mongolian conqueror who shall remain nameless, but now I’m ready to tackle some real controversy. Read on, but please use discretion.

I have a group that meets once a month to do readings of Shakespeare’s plays. This past weekend, we read The Winter’s Tale.

Now, I’ve never been a big fan of The Winter’s Tale. But a lot of serious Shakespeare fans list it among their favorites, which leads me to believe there’s more there than I’m seeing, and perhaps I will like it more when I’ve given it more attention. I don’t know. Events seem to happen haphazardly and without cause. The characters give me no reason to want to wish them well. And I feel kind of cheated that the reunion of the king with his daughter is presented second-hand in an exposition scene, rather than the brilliant dialogue Shakespeare could have chosen to write.

The play is usually classified as a “Romance” which is a lesser-known Shakespearean genre (compared to Comedy, Tragedy, and History) that Shakespeare experimented with late in his career. It is believed that he started with Pericles and Cymbeline (not usually considered among his best works), gradually improved the form in The Winter’s Tale, and finally created The Tempest, which is usually considered to be the finest of his works in the genre. Romances (as they are found in Shakespeare) are generally characterized by fairy tale elements such as long-lost relatives; gods, spirits, and other supernatural elements; and exploring a relationship with nature. Intrestingly enough, the Comedy As You Like It, written much earlier, contains all of these elements, but is never classified as a Romance (though it is sometimes classified, by itself, as a Pastoral). But the Romances Cymbeline and The Winter’s Tale in particular are very closely connected by their treatment of these elements.

Which leads me to my point. I think that Cymbeline is a much better play than The Winter’s Tale, but doesn’t get nearly the respect. Cymbeline has a beautiful fairy-tale quality, better poetic language, more human characters, a logical (albeit far-fetched) structured motivated plot, a clear moral code of values, and a satisfying ending. Imogen is one of the great female roles in Shakespeare, and — I know this is heresy — Hermione is not.

Oh, yeah. I went there.

Most memorable moment of Cymbeline? The funeral dirge:

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Most memorable moment of The Winter’s Tale? A stage direction:

Exit, pursued by a bear.

Look, I don’t hate The Winter’s Tale. I just don’t understand why it holds a special place in the hearts of so many, when Cymbeline doesn’t. The plays are closely connected, so I think it’s fair to compare the two. I wouldn’t try to compare, say, Othello with A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but I can say this:

Cymbeline is a much better play than The Winter’s Tale.

Does anybody have a problem with that?

All visitors to the blog who are familiar with both plays are welcome to debate the issue in the comments section of this post. If a lively discussion ensues (and how could it possibly not?), I will jump in and defend my position.