The Difference Between a Cow and a Bean

So, dear readers, I have ten minutes to write this post. How on earth can I sum up Richard II, Henry IV i, and ii, and Henry V done by the RSC in ten minutes?

Well, I'd like to draw your attention to another difference between America and England that one of my actresses in Lysistrata brought up today. She was worried about forgetting her lines, and I told her, "it's alright, forgetting is just not remembering until the right time." Then I said I thought Kurt Vonnegut said that. She responded that she loved how Americans quoted things, and not only could quote things, but knew who they were quoting. "It's a common thing for Americans to do," said this actress. I was skeptical - I think the Brits think this because Americans are incessantly quoting Monty Python, but I didn't say that there.

So what is the difference between American Shakespeare and British Shakespeare? Well, after these Histories, what I have to say is this:

Americans are quoting Shakespeare. The Brits live it.

Take, for instance, Richard II. Not, at first glance, the best play ever written. An effeminate but undisputed king wastes his power on silly wars, and gets usurped by a more practical, and older, duke. Richard decries the usurpation as a sin against the Lord, but gives up his throne relatively easily, avoiding bloodshed. He is processed through the street and people throw dirt on him, then some people decide to murder him, thinking the king wanted it. So they do, just as poor Richard was starting to understand exactly who he was and what he should be doing with his life. The blood of a now seemingly innocent, noble, and perfect king is on the new duke's hands, and, as Richard prophecies, the history of England is plagued with civil war.

But the production. The production was the best play there, it beat out Henry V. The entire set was made of rusted bronze, it echoed, it clanged - these people were like echoes of a bloody history dragged up before the audience. I thought of Kramer's Our Town. Richard has a whole scene after he has ripped off his flouncy red wig and handed off his crown to his enemy where a stream of dust falls on him from the ceiling. And then you find out people threw dust on him as he was marched through the city! It wasn't just the RSC being artsy, it's in the script! And this is what consistantly amazes me, the DETAIL with which the play was staged. There was that Peter Brook-esque "ritual" invovled, for sure, but just the simple sense of the whole thing, every knot, ever joint, every sinew of the play was there ... it was a sight. It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty darn good. I should HOPE I direct a play that well.

I'll tell more of these plays later. My ten minutes is actually long past.