School Plays

Now, here's the thing...I was pondering the importance of literature and all that (in between reading 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' to my Kindergarten students) and it got me thinking about Shakespeare. OK, so the literary link between Shakespeare and a small insect with a voracious appetite for apples and ice cream might seem hard to grasp right now. But it made sense at the time, alright? Anyway, what I want to know was what the heck he was on about? I mean, some of the stuff... well, did they have mind altering drugs in the 17th century? Was it a little marijuana to go with that new tobacco stuff? Or just the excitement of someone discovering potatoes?

For starters, we all know how teenage hormones make you think you're REALLY REALLY TOTALLY IN LOVE - and next week you'll have forgotten about the guy you were SOOO TOTALLY GOING TO LOVE FOREVER, and have discovered that his best friends, was, like waay better at kissing than he was, anyway. In retrospect, don't you think the suicide option for Romeo and Juliette was a tad extreme and ill-advised?

And another thing... a synopsis of any random play seems to me to read like a cross between an M. Night Shyalaman movie and an ultra-cheesy daytime soap opera. Even the unflinchingly thespian Macbeth throws in a couple of dramatic soap opera moments that seem to be entirely staged for the benefit of increasing an audience. It's like Shakepeare was taking lessons from the writers of Eastenders or Sunset Beach. And it sure seems like Shakespeare-land was as equally ruinous to your health and general existance in this world as living in Emmerdale village or Brookside Close. There appears to be an unusually high concentration of murders and double-crossings, combined with general mix-ups, misunderstandings and people not being what they seem to be for such a small village, uhm, I mean fictional universe.

Ah but, he was a crowd-pleaser was he not? A kind-of Spielberg for the grubby legging-wearing Elizabethan masses. And if nothing else, I'll always have fond memories of my own rather pathetic attempt at introducing the great bard to a Taiwanese audience. Distinctly less of a crowd-pleaser (more of a 'what the hell piece of crap was that?') - it wasn't the most accomplished piece, and it didn't really work the way I intended (let's just say, the 'actors' didn't really get into their roles), but it was MINE, and I gave blood, sweat and tears to get it up and running.

Anyway, once the "What the bloody hell was I thinking?" blues subsided, I reflected on its (ahem) success. OK, it was truly the most ridiculous play I've ever seen, but I DO have the excuse of having done it entirely staged by non-native English speakers. Plus, to compound the fact that my boss wanted them to do a play in in a foreign language, he only gave us 2 months rehearsal of 30 minutes a week. Oh, and I was lumbered with the teenagers - y'know... those ones that utter only monosyllabic answers (if they speak at all)? Of course, all the plays he gave us were for 15 or more characters and were written for 5-year-olds... dragons, princes...all that jazz. I eventually settled on a kinda TV soap opera based on 'The Tempest'... hell, it worked in my mind. I even spent days writing and adapting the correct scenes from the play, taping music, painting scenery and making costumes.

Unfortunately, the 6 boys and 1 girl in my class refused to play ball - namely with the fact that one of the lads had to, at some point, say "I love you" (albeit in a very Shakespearean way, of course). A lot of tears were shed over that particular point (in retrospect, no 13-year-old would ever want to say such blasphemous words...silly me!). And of course, intonation and timing is key in Shakespeare, which of course, my monosyllabic kids utterly lacked.

In the end, the only saving point was the class clown Wei-Wei, whose role was Ariel (sublimely intuitive casting on my part, if I do say so myself). He hammed it up with the best of 'em, bless - it was a performance on par with the cheesiest Brannagh moment. And he cared not a jot if he had to prance around with a magic wand to ethereal music... a true professional.

In the end, my colleague triumphed over all the other attempts with an endearing moral tale of villagers working together to stop a bully (but then, he had the advantage of having the cute little 7-year-old class). Oh the cruel twists of fate - he was the same teacher who had originally declared it all a load of bollocks, and had entrusted the teaching of his play to the classroom assistant. Bastard glory-hunter.

And no-one even noticed my carefully painted scenery or costumes.