Notes from Underdog.

Ingenious: Big Lebowski if written by Shakespeare

This is really ingenious. The entire BIG LEBOWSKI script as if written by one William Shakespeare. (Thanks to Buzzfeed and Marty Leadman both for the link.) Kudos, to the writer. 

I'll just post the opening/prologue's chorus:

CHORUS
In wayfarer’s worlds out west was once a man,
A man I come not to bury, but to praise.
His name was Geoffrey Lebowski called, yet
Not called, excepting by his kin.
That which we call a knave by any other name
Might bowl just as sweet. Lebowski, then,
Did call himself ‘the Knave’, a name that I,
Your humble chorus, would not self-apply
In homelands mine; but, then, this Knave was one
From whom sense was a burden to extract,
And of the arid vale in which he dwelt,
Also dislike in sensibility;
Mayhap the very search for sense reveals
The reason that it striketh me as most
Int’resting, yea, inspiring me to odes.
(In couplets first, and then a sonnet brave
As prologue to the tale of this the Knave.
Behold him, then, a-tumbling softly down
To pledge his love immortal to the ground.)
We stray now from fair Albion and from France
And see no Queen of bawdy songs and cheers
And in an angel's city take our chance
For stupefying tales to take our ears.
To war on Arab kings acoast we go,
Needing a man of times, though hero not;
Hear me call him not hero; what’s in a hero?
Sometimes there’s a man, your prologue’s thought.
The Knave, though scarcely man of honour’d grace,
Nor hero Olympian, nor yet employ’d,
Was nonetheless for all his time and place,
The man befits the circle he’s enjoy’d.
A man of lazy ways, of epic sloth;
But, losing train of thought, I’ve spake enough!

ACT's Brief Encounter: British import that delights

The American Conservatory Theater's production of BRIEF ENCOUNTER, now at the Geary Theater in San Francisco, adapted by Emma Rice and imported from her London production with the same Kneehigh Theater troupe, takes essentially an old chestnut, Noel Coward's play Still Life (later adapted by Coward into the fine 1945 film Brief Encounter) and reimagines it, reanimates it. By using the romantic framework -- a man and a woman in WWII era Britain, both married, fall for each other but are destined to never be together for good -- and adding invigorating creative layers to it, the play comes alive.

This modern take on Brief Encounter integrates mixed media into the staging, using projected film that integrate the actors, who step into the screen, timed just right with their counterpart in the projected film. In one powerful effect late in the play, a stage-long screen is unfurled to project a passing train.

The use of music -- it's not quite a musical per se but it almost feels like one, with cast members bridging scenes and ideas together with lively songs --  combined with the actors' movement, gives the play a non-stop rhythm, like a Sally Cruikshank or (going way back) Betty Boop cartoon.

It's one of those stories in which the supporting characters, most of them employees of the train station in which the play is set, are more interesting than the protagonists (though all the actors are quite good, and play multiple roles seamlessly). lead actor Milo Twomey, who plays Alec, the doctor, reminded me a bit of a handsomer Rowan Atkinson, and the object of his affection is the lovely, appropriately classical-looking Hannah Yelland as Laura, the ennui-laden housewife.  But the supporting cast really keep things humming, including a most amusing Beverly Rudd as the robust, rotund Beryl, who has an affair of her own (and Rudd is also priceless as a couple of older matrons, one with a prissy dog, played by a stuffed animal on a taut leash), and Annette McLaughlin as the station cafe owner Myrtle, who reminded me of British comedienne Carol Cleveland, who was one of the few actual women in supporting roles on Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Even if there are still a few moments where the thin romance threatens to dull the proceedings, those moments are few and far between. ACT and Kneehigh's Brief Encounter is a marvelous staging, a passing train you should jump on.

(Note: The play has now been extended at ACT until October 11.)

Quality of Life at ACT

I can't give it as long a review as I'd like, partially because of computer problems, but I give high marks to Jane Anderson's play "Quality of Life," as presented at San Francisco's ACT with a stellar cast. JoBeth Williams and Laurie Metcalf were superb, as were the two actors, Dennis Boutsikaris (who without his beard, which is how I'd remembered him in past roles, looks almost disturbingly like Robert Carlyle except with a NY accent) and Steven Culp.

So many aspects of the play hit home for me: the Northern California setting, the threat and loss from fire, the culture clash (between Midwest and California), dealing with a loved one terminal from cancer. So it's possible I was moved by it even more than many, but it's an empathetic, real script and the performances were about as natural as I think I've ever seen on the stage. Alas, it's only playing for two more days and I don't know if there are any tickets left. But if you're in the bay area and can finagle seats to this one, don't miss out.

It's not just moving - it's also quite funny at times. Anderson has a ton of experience writing (and directing) for not only the stage but for film as well and she really has a great sense of timing, dialogue, keeping us engaged and keeping the actors interested, too. It's a terrific work.

The Pillowman

The highlight of my trip to NY might have been seeing Martin McDonough's play, The Pillowman, starring Billy Crudup and Jeff Goldblum.  It's a special piece of writing, darkly funny even more than it is disturbing, with a strong sense of staging and giving actors juice. Crudup, who won a Tony for the part, plays (the Joseph Heller-ishly named) Kautarian, a writer of bleak children's stories, the kind that would make Lemony Snicket uncomfortable. He's suspected by the Totalitarian police to be connected to a series of grisly child murders with circumstances similar to those described in his stories. Which is only the beginning...  He has a mentally slow brother (played with great humor and charisma by the John Belushi-shaped Michael Stuhlbarg) who is also incarcerated by their interrogators - Goldblum and Zejko Ivanek. 

Goldblum futzed a couple of lines and was basically his usual stammering persona, but was still a treat, with one hilarious scene when he attempts to tell a metaphorical story of his own, with clumsy results.

The set consists of the two interrogation rooms, but add some very clever, creative staging for the various flashbacks and stories -  with rooms that slide open from the top half of the room's rear wall, lit to look dreamily like a projected film.

The ending of the play is rather shocking in a way but perfectly apt, and the play overall didn't do what I feared it might, or what many other modern plays have done, which is get so caught up in the heavy metaphors and critical past events that they forget to compel in the moment as well. There's much needed humor amidst all the heaviness.

It ends Sept 18.