Surprises
This is my new look. I hope you like it. Knowing my exceptionally poor attention span, I will be changing it again soon. I am sure the accepted wisdom is that one should not consistently change one's blog in order not to alienate one's dear readers. I am hoping, however, that the changes which are bound to come will add a positive element of surprise, thereby attracting more readers, dropping by to see what today's scheme could possibly be.
Or something.
Anyway. George Bernard Shaw. I would have thought, in an exceptionally judgmental way, that I would not like George Bernard Shaw. Dry and intellectual, I would think to myself. No gags, I would also think. And a distinct lack of physical vitality and stuff.
I would be wrong!
Go and see Saint Joan at the National by George Bernard Shaw. It is ace. It has banging and stomping and men in armour. Also, it is funny. And as well, it is interesting in a very robust and muscular way. It was directed by Marianne Elliot, whose Therese Raquin I loved last year. It was seething and simmering and chock full of lust and guilt. But it was a similar surprise; I thought it would be all dull and drawing-roomy. This leads me to conclude that Marianne Elliot is VEER clever.
So, Saint Joan. All very good, apart from Paterson Joseph, who while completely brilliant in Peep Show, appears to lack the ability to speak lines, and where possible, sings them instead.
PS. We have a meeting about the plays! Those very ones you generously helped me a lot with earlier this year. We have a lady who is clever at producing who will help us raise money, and we are meeting with the theatre to talk about doing them properly for three weeks with a proper design and actors and everything. This is excellent news. I am heartily cheered by it.
Hoorah.
6 comments:
Ooh! New look! I am feeling very last season now, let me tell you. I'm glad you liked GBS, though and oh how I would love to go and see Saint Joan at the National. I am consoled by the fact that the thespianically fabulous Dublin Theatre Festival is coming very soon. Yay!
hullo miss tickle.
hmm I like it, it looks a lot more eh contained. did you not consider giving wordpress a bash?
the george bernard shaw anecdote that I remember (I think it's gbs!)is the one where some beautiful airhead told him that given her looks and his brains, they should have children together. and gbs replied: "yes but what if they end up with my looks and your brains?"
Goodness, this is different!
I rather liked the old look I'm afraid. It made me think of sunshine.
OH Jenny! I am spelling your name wrong in a fit of pique.
It was AWFUL - and I speak as as great an admirer of Therese Raquin as anybody. SOOO boring. And it's not a boring play - it isn't.
The horrible actorly choices in the early scenes - Dauphin as Frank Spencer, main guy in first scene doing SOMETHING WEIRD I don't know what. The way Shameless girl played St Joan as if she was a female equivalent of David Tennant's Doctor Who - where was the sense of calm purpose about her. Why would a bunch of military men take her seriously?
And why did there have to be a kingfisher on a stick - and running around banging things. Shaw includes his moment of physical release - it's the moment the banner changes direction - the natural progression of the play means we know that victory is assured. But here there was ZERO trust in good writing to carry it through? Why did the director and Mr Joseph cast evil lights on a bishop who was trying to do good. Why no respect for the dialectic? Why, in short, did Shaw get pushed aside for what Marianne Elliott thought would work from moment to moment. I'm sorry but my expectations for her have dropped from massive to 'hopeful'.
TO put it broadly, Shaw isn't silly and modern. He's heavy and important and has his own sense of humour and should not be subjected to "fun" theatrical wanking around.
KQ
LOveliest Fiona, do not feel last season, I am not even sure I like it that much. Might be a bit cool and minimalistish for me. x
Edvard, hello! Nice to see you. I did consider wordpress, but it seems a bit more complicated than my little brain can handle. Poor brain.
Oh Angie, now I'm all of a flummox. Sunshine is such a nice thing to be associated with.
Now, now KQ. I agree with some of what you say: the man in the first scen was indeed doing something odd, especially with his face. I'm not sure I agree about Anne-Marie Duff though, I thought she got the 17 year old bit really well, and she moved them by being different to them, rather than offering them more of their own rhetoric. I am sitting on the fence with the kingfisher on a stick. It did not work, I agree, and yet I prefer it to the standing-acting-looking-at-kingfisher-amazed alternative. Also I agree that the flag and wind changing moment wasn't nailed, and got lost in what followed, BUT I thought the choices made were an excellent way to stage a battle, and to use the space of the Olivier.
The thing is, I wasn't bored. It made me like Shaw, and that hasn't happened before. I was interested in the dialectic, and this "version" of the play opened that up to me, for which I am grateful. And there is nothing wrong with fun.
Tell everyone that the entire play
Saint Joan by GB Shaw is available here online free
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