Shakespeare's Richard III in Bouffon...

Did you know the term 'in bouffon'? I didn't, though the advertising for this production by A Company of Fools made it clear that it was a kind of medieval theatre in which the actors are (or appear to be) deformed, maimed, or (in the words of the ad) "monsters and freaks". A desultory online search confirmed: "...There are four major families of characters in Bouffon theatre: “There are the hunchbacks, big-bums and big-bellies, dwarfs, and the high priest characters. These people are part of our reality and Bouffon-style theatre makes people realize this.” (from this site). Right. Those types were all present, in various configurations.

"A Company of Fools", whose production of Much Ado About Nothing I so loved in the summer, is doing Shakespeare's Richard III "in bouffon". They define "bouffon" as "evil clown". Right. Okay, said I to myself in my naiveté, I guess this is one of those productions in which Richard of Gloucester will be a hunchback.

Wrong. Well, mostly wrong. I suppose, strictly speaking, he was a hunchback - his shoulders, insofar as he had them, certainly didn't match - but more significantly, he had no limbs at all. The other characters were likewise freakish, though more mobile. And the whole production was heavily eroticized, as the characters spent a lot of the show fondling, groping, licking, or casually kissing each other. Later on the characters were likewise licking, kissing and fondling their various bloody weapons. Various and assorted grossnesses were part of the action.

Powerful stuff.

Beyond the shock value, it was well-acted Shakespeare. The lines were beautifully delivered. Close your eyes and it sounded like a normal production. Open your eyes and... well. Flinch. I found myself wondering whether Shakespeare had really put in all those amazing double-entendres and overt sexual references - and concluded that he had. And usually the history plays look so respectable. What this production added - besides the 'in bouffon' style - was funny and inventive. The show started with the characters humming "O Canada" behind Gloucester's initial speech.

It was incredibly creative. If it had been less well-acted, it might not have made me quite so uncomfortable. Michael Brunet was particularly good as the powerful but limbless Richard III. Intense and expressive.

It was very funny, and I laughed quite a bit. But it felt weird to be laughing at it, when it was so very black. I closed my eyes sometimes, when I thought it was particuarly gross, and just concentrated on the beautifully-delivered lines.

The advertising for the show announced that it was unsuitable for children. There were children there anyway - they looked a little shell-shocked by the end, though I suppose most of the more bizarre sexual references were over their heads. If I had seen it at, say, ten, I couldn't have handled it; but then, I was (and am) a wimp. I'd have had nightmares for months.

There were six actors playing all the roles in Richard III. Sometimes they changed their hats to indicate which they were; a few parts were played by puppets, or with masks - but the costumes and the deformities never changed. Since the misshapenness of each actor was a dominant feature, I found it much more difficult to figure who was who from scene to scene, or when actors were the same character and when they were playing someone different. That many of the roles were cross-gendered didn't help particularly, though I'm not sure how much it hindered.

In some ways, the extreme grotesqueries made it all more poignant. And the pious Richmond, in the end, as scary in his way as the evil Richard.

I was left with the feeling that this was 'genuine' theatre in a way we seldom see - reaching rather deeply into the psyche and reaching levels we don't often try to touch in our rather cleansed and usually-politically-correct world.

To quote the programme: "There is nothing in the heart of Bouffon that does not exist in the heart of all of us." Scary thought, given that this is a play about murder, heartlessness and the ruthless pursuit of power at any cost.

From the Flash to Michigan J. Frog in one day....

Oddly enough, it was a day for cartoons.

I went to josanpq's place for brunch and we watched JLA cartoons. Loved the "Justice Lords" and their spiffy costumes. Loved the Flash of course: I always do like the currey hyper cartoon version, though I always have a hell of a time remembering he's Wally not Barry. (Early conditioning there.) I always want to see more of Batman. Or maybe I mean, hear more of him: his voice is wonderful.

It was great to see chinae and lmondegreen and everyone else who was there. josanpq gave me a wonderful Russell Crowe poster, bless her heart. I love it, and I haven't even seen Master and Commander yet. (Many people are incredulous about that, but hey, it's only been on a few days. Just because I'm a men-in-tall-ships junkie! Give me another 24 hours!)

Over dinner, I watched some classic Loony Tunes cartoons. I've seldom seen these: never watched them much as a kid and didn't really like them, and so never wanted to watch them as an adult. But they were showing some classics, ones I'd heard about and never seen, and I see what people mean when they say they are clever. Not so funny in my opinion, but clever social satire. My favourite: Michigan J. Frog.

Funny: I remember these characters primarily from my Disney-kin like toys, rather than the cartoons themselves. I loved those toys.

I worked on a Smallville slash story, "Summa Cum Laude".

I made bread pudding. I've been wanting some ever since the Dunnett brunch in Toronto, where I thought the Baton Rouge restaurant should offer bread pudding (or "Pouding a Pain") for dessert, but they didn't.

I housecleaned the bird cages - gave them a thorough scrub. The little guys seemed happy about it, but maybe it's just that they like any kind of attention.

I read two articles in "Vanity Fair" about the Royal Family - one about William (primarily) and one about Harry (secondarily), and one about the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.

A good day, but it came and went too quickly.