A Midsummer Night's Dream
Okay, there’s this guy. And he likes this girl. And the girl’s dad has given the girl to the guy, right? But she loves this other guy, and her best friend loves the one she’s engaged to. So the girl and her boyfriend run away to the woods followed by the other two, where a kind of fairy guy accidentally makes the boyfriend fall in love with the best friend and there’s a catfight.
Meanwhile, the king and queen of the fairies are mad at each other, so the king has the other fairy turn this old guy who is practicing a play into a donkey and everyone says “ass” a lot. And then they make the queen fall in love with him (the donkey), and they say “ass” some more. And then everybody has to sort everything out.
I have been familiar with Midsummer since my freshman year when, in my desire to see as many Kevin Kline movies as possible, I stumbled across the 1999 movie adaptation directed by Michael Hoffman. Against all reason, considering my typical aversion to romance, I fell in love with the story, its gorgeous dialogue, and the world Shakespeare borrowed and expanded upon. To say that I am familiar with the play is a gross understatement. I have a good deal of it memorized.
And then, fall of my senior year, I got the opportunity to see the play at the Shakespeare Theatre in D.C. Though only a student matinee, the performers did not disappoint. The interpretation was far different (quite different from almost any version ever, actually), as they used the Changeling Boy as a sort of shadow-master who had power over the other characters. It was very neat. I adored it just as much as the film, if not more.
My favourite character has always been Francis Flute, the poor bellows mender who is forced to play Thisby. Sam Rockwell did a fabulous job in the film – a job that initially won my heart – and passed the organ, torch, whatever, on to Greg Felden, who definitely didn’t fumble it. Everyone is so mean to poor Flute, and he just really doesn’t deserve any of it.
Christian Bale, of course, does a marvelous job of making Demetrius a heartbreakingly gorgeous jerk that manages to win you over as he makes you violently angry. Paul Witthorne took a bit of getting used to, naturally. Bale and all. But he took some of the jerk out of the character and left most of the appeal. And while I love the comments made by Demetrius and Theseus in the play within a play scene, they cut most of them out of the movie. Witthorne’s antics in the play brought the character to life for me and earned him a favourite character position. That’s right, folks. Someone topped Bale. Mr. Witthorne, I love you. But don’t worry, Mr. Bale. You’re still the best ever ;^)
And who could forget the star of the show? The catalyst for all of the complications in the play? The devious, delightful, delicious Robin Goodfellow? Stanley Tucci made a fantastic Puck, don’t get me wrong, but he didn’t hold a candle to the performance of one Mr. Daniel Breaker, who somehow managed, though it was bright and early in the morning and he had done a show the previous night, to pull off a spectacular performance. And, hey. Puck’s soliloquy is one of the best pieces of writing ever, even when the uncultured heathens in the audience don’t know when it’s over.
I could go on forever about Bottom and Hermia and how crazy a biznatch Helena is, but I will spare you. So I’ll leave you with this:
Give me your hand, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.
"Midsummer Eve" by Edward Robert Hughes
William Shakespeare was bloody awesome.
Created December 25, 2003.
