"Yale: Ye Ole Maze O' DEATH"

So, I mentioned in my last post that I was going to go to Yale Cabaret and watch Dracula, right? Well, I guess God the Father must have been sitting up there in Heaven, looking through the playbills of shows around the world, and upon seeing the description of "Dracula," decided that it was NOT FOR MY EYES and that he should KEEP ME FROM IT AT ALL COSTS by making it as DIFFICULT AS POSSIBLE for me to find my way to the Cabaret. Either that, or he thought it would be really funny for me to get lost and sniffle like a little girl. At any rate, it was a horrible experience. Everyone at Yale is snobby, except for the really sketchy people that smoke in Gothic alcoves, and I was a little worried I was going to die. When I finally made my way back to the bus stop, after being told by the maitre de that my ticket had been given away due to my tardiness, I called my boyfriend and made him talk to me about Gundam and Stratego, because I needed something THAT RANDOM to get my mind off of my soaked hat and Toms (which were a poor choice of footwear for a rainy day).

All in all, I am really grateful I didn't get mugged or something, and now I know my way around the theatre district of Yale (more or less).

I hope y'all's weekends were better than mine!
Love,
Caty

P.S. I heard it "sucked" anyway

"French or Fry?"

Hello, all! I've been out of the blogging scene for a while, but this semester I've found a way to tie blogging and homework together! Huzzah! So, there should be more frequent posts... In theory.

Okay, it's not a review today, but what I have to say IS about some prominent theatre characters. More specifically, villains. Namely, Jud Fry from Oklahoma and Inspector Javert from Les Misérables. The assignment was to compare and contrast the characters, taking into account their backgrounds and "villainous" ways. If you don't want to know anything about what happens to these characters, stop here.

Here's my essay:

                 All too often, audiences slip into the mindset of a “good guy” versus a “bad guy” without taking into account the actual character that is supposedly a dastardly villain. Two prime examples of misunderstood antagonists are Jud Fry from Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Oklahoma, and Inspector Javert from Claude-Michel Schönberg & Alain Boublil’s Les Misérables. The three aspects of this exposition will focus on are the characters’ backgrounds and how they respond to their upbringing, their deaths, and whether or not either of them could be considered a true villain.

                Jud and Javert were born into similar situations, and it is apparent that both characters have some anger about their initial positions in society. Jud often complains that no one will speak to him because he’s a cowhand. He projects his own insecurities about social position onto others, when the real animosity stems from his gauche behavior. It is also clear that he had very little mothering by his extensive collection of “pretties” and his goal to simply go get the woman he wants without regard to her tastes.

                Rather than embrace his birth status, like Jud, Javert makes a total break from his past. He works hard, seeks to tidy and organize everything around him, and punish the unlawful lowlifes he had to grow up with. Since Javert says that he turned his own father in, we can infer that his relationship with his parents was just as bad, if not worse, than Jud’s. However, instead of being angry about others judging him, like Jud, he judges others with an uncaring and narrow-minded rule of law. Any irregularity in his judgement is unacceptable, and he is only barely able to contain his anger about the inconsistencies of the world.

                However, both of these men have solos where we can see a little deeper into their sympathetic side. Jud expresses how trapped and alone he feels in “Lonely Room,” while “Stars” gives some insight into Javert’s longing for definite purpose and desire for unchanging consistency. Jud really just needed a good friend. But Javert’s issues are far more deep-seated and difficult to address. Best guess, cubicle work and a good psychiatrist could have made him happy, but neither were available in his day.

                This brings us to death. Jud’s death was, frankly, unnecessary. He had been down at the bar for weeks, trying to forget about Laurey. If he had really been planning to kill Curly, why would he have gotten drunk? Jud didn’t have much in the way of book smarts, but his story about burning down a house and disposition to use the tricky “Little Wonder” show a more calculating nature than a slovenly drunkard trying to murder a groom. Curly even hints that his killing Jud was intentional, which makes him more cruel than Jud if we go by actions (but I’m getting ahead of myself here).

                The suicide of Javert is a completely different story. The audience is sad that he has to die, but simultaneously relieved that this tortured man has finally found some kind of respite. He can’t reconcile letting Jean Valjean go free, so death is the only option. And as he dies, the melody from “Stars” chimes in, implying a sense of satisfaction and catharsis for the troubled Inspector. And I suppose he must have resembled a shooting star, hurling himself off of a bridge like that.

                And now, for the real question: are either of these characters real villains? I would say no. Jud talks about being able to do horrible things, but never actually hurts anyone. After the betting over the hampers had concluded, he hesitated rather than kill Curly quick and clean, and he brought a knife rather than a gun to the wedding, and was clearly not in a heightened state of mind. While Jud may not be a nice fellow, it would be a stretch to call him a villain based on his actions.

                As for Javert, he definitely does horrible things. His lack of sympathy for Fantine is the best example of his hardened heart. She is a prostitute, and therefore she is wrong and must be punished regardless of the circumstances. However, Javert always thinks that he is doing good. He is never cruel for the sake of cruelty, but always seeks to carry out justice. When he finally has to examine the disparity between morality and his so-called justice, he kills himself rather than continue to enforce his uncaring law, which he could not ignore. He dies for what is right, because he can’t handle living with a broken system.

                Personally, I have more fondness for Javert. He tried to make it out of his past, and attempted to do good. When he realized he was wrong, he did the only thing that he believed could prevent further injustices. There is far more depth to his character than I see in Jud, who just lives with himself and thinks that accumulating more things will make his life better. But I always wonder if either character could have been saved if someone had simply been kind to them? Had given them a conscience? Maybe they just needed better mothers and fathers? However, both Jud and Javert made their own choices, and those choices led to their demises. One always has a choice.

That's all for this week, folks. This weekend I'll be watching "a neo-sixties sensual adaptation" of Dracula. I'm... hesitant to say the least, but very excited about seeing such a great villain on stage! Expect a review!

I hope you're all doing well :) Happy Valentine's Day!

Sincerely,

Caty

"......oops."

Well, I am just not a very good blogger, apparently. That's okay with me. It's not like anybody reads it, so I'm not too worried. If all goes well, there will be a massive update over Christmas Break, as well as a renewed fervor for consistency in posts next semester.

Until then, stay classy, Planet Earth!
Caty

"Long Long Long" (Time)

So, it's been a while. In my defense, someone I love had surgery and I almost lost my mind between that and midterms. No biggie. Reviews to come soon (note the lack of commitment about when? I thought it was pretty darn clever): Portal, Portal 2, "Belleville," Fast Five, and perhaps West Wing. This is assuming I don't watch or play anything better in the interim, of course. So, anyway... PEACE!

I love ya,
Caty

"Uh Pitcher Of Ewe"

This is what I have to show for my Calculus class this week, a cartoon of my boyfriend. I am such a good student. I did, however, become privy to some excellent shows and I read a pretty darn good play. Reviews to come soon... not that you care. You know, that's the funny thing about this blog. No one reads it, and I don't really mind. I just pretend that people do anyway, for fun. Makes me feel important without getting too big of a head. I dunno, I'm rambling. It's 5AM now, so I think I'll hit the hay. I am a bit tired. Anyway, I love you all, regardless of whether or not you read my blog.
Love,
Caty

P.S. "I cannot believe my eyes; is the world finally growing wise? And I think I see some kind of harmony is on the rise."

"We are FAMILY"

I've been a little behind in my blogging lately. I'm afraid I've just been spending a lot of time doing homework and spending time with the awesome people in my dorm. That's really all I've got to say right now; I'm too busy living it up here. I'll make an effort to post some stuff soon, though!

"Lately, I've Been Thinking"

This post is a few day later than I promised, but in my defense I'm working on a show. So without further adieu, here's my review of Anton Chekhov's Three Sisters. It's a little muddled, since I'm basically copying and pasting from my report on the play, but I think it gets the points across.


Exposition:

Where I come from, in South-Central Alaska, we don’t have professional theatre. Since Three Sisters was my first time watching “real theatre,” I may be a bit generous in my review. Quite frankly, I was amazed. Anton Chekhov’s ability to mesh humor and tragedy is beautiful, and presents a more realistic view of life. The way he writes also lends to the major theme of the play, which is that life simply is. It sounds like I’m leaving part of the sentence out, but I assure you I am not. Life is hard, happy, sad, wonderful, terrifying, lovely, disillusioning… Life is.

Summary:

The basic plot of the story involves the lives of (you guessed it) three sisters. The play begins on the youngest sister Irina’s birthday, which is also the first anniversary of their father’s death. Irina is full of hope and ambition, desiring to enter the workforce and make something of herself. She dresses in white throughout the entire play to denote her innocence and purity. The middle sister, Masha, always wears black and is wedded to a husband she does not care for; she longs for a life with more meaning and more interesting people. The oldest sister, Olga, seems to be the most balanced of the three, but there is a sense that she feels a lack of purpose as well. She is constantly tired and only seems rejuvenated when her sisters are happy. The sisters desire two things: for their brother and head of the household, Andrei, to realize his intellectual potential and become a professor, and to move to Moscow when he does. To their dismay, he has fallen into the clingy arms of one Natasha. To add to the plot is a group of military men. They are Chebutykin, the aging doctor who dotes on the three sisters (especially Irina); the wealthy , well-balanced, and wistful Tuzenbach, who is also referred to as the Baron (he is in love with Irina); Vershinin the philosopher, who is married to a woman depicted as horrible and crazy and eventually falls in love with Masha; Solyony, who is borderline insane (possibly as a result of immense insecurity), is in love with Irina, and can be counted on to say something ridiculous at any given time; Rode; and Fedotik. Other characters include three servants at the household (a very old couple and a young girl), and Masha’s husband Ferapont.

In the second scene, Andrei disappoints his sister by settling down with Natasha, who becomes more and more antagonistic and abrasive as the show goes on. Andrei also begins gambling away large sums of money and losing sight of his intellectual prowess. Irina loses faith in work and becomes discouraged by her unwanted suitor, Solyony. She does not mind the Baron. Vershinin and Masha become very close and it becomes obvious that they are in love. The only thing keeping them apart is Masha’s husband (who, ironically, later mentions that he might like to be wedded to Olga instead). Everyone seems a little tired and on edge, as though none have them have had quite enough sleep. It is snowing outside during this scene (which was a wonderful production effect), which adds not only realism, but a sense of heaviness as well. The sisters still haven’t made it to Moscow and feel blanketed in, as if by snow.

In the third scene, there has been a large fire. Through the windows on the balcony the trees can be seen in dim red light, which later turns to smoky haze. The action takes place in a much smaller room, to make the audience see how little is left to the sisters and to show how trapped they feel. Everyone is exhausted and appears to have lost hope. Most of the men are grimy with ash and everything about the scene has a kind of darkness to it. Masha and Vershinin finally cannot ignore each other and consummate their love. It is the only part of the scene that could be described as happy. The doctor tries to commit suicide by drowning, Irina breaks down, Olga becomes entirely fed up with Natasha’s lack of compassion, and Andrei realizes the horror of what he has done to his beloved sisters by gambling so much away and marrying too hastily to such an overbearing woman. It is realized that the sisters will never go to Moscow. In her despair, Irina decides to marry the Baron.

The fourth scene contrasts the previous one in its brightness and its openness. It takes place on the porch. The military men are leaving, but the Baron has retired and is marrying Irina. Andrei has lost all of his spark. Olga has moved out and is headmistress at the school. Masha and Vershinin have say their heart-wrenching goodbyes. Olga and Irina do their best to console her, but Irina is additionally heartbroken when she hears that the Baron was killed by Solyony in a duel. Natasha is borderline insane, treating the misplacement of a fork as though it were the end of the world. Despite all of this turmoil, hope shines through, however. Irina still plans to make a new start by moving and finding work. She is a bit jaded, but has returned to her original state of optimism. Olga sees that she can find joy without her sisters, helping children learn as a headmistress and assisting the elderly woman that used to serve the sisters. Masha has seen that there are people worth taking note of in the world and knows that there is joy out there. Her husband takes her back as though nothing has happened, and she finally seems to accept him, saying “Let’s go home.” It is the day most filled with tragedy in the entire play, but is the beginning of a new chapter for the sisters. Even though life seems bad, it looks bright. And that is how life is.


Thoughts That I Brought Away:

To begin a review like this, the stage must first be set. The set pieces in this play were glorious. There were multiple levels (a main floor, an upper dining room, and a balcony). At times the middle and upper levels were removed, but their presence added a certain dynamic effect, causing one’s eyes to be constantly entertained and making the play appear less flat visually. The changes between sets were also brilliant and seamless as the action moved through different parts of the sisters’ household. Possibly my favorite part about the set, though, was the spindly birch trees that could be seen through the windows. They seemed to travel up into the rafters and go on forever. They were like a representation of life, just going on and on and on. The use of a large wooden platform also helped to denote when a character was inside the house or out, and its gentle creaks added an additional touch of realism. It made it much easier to imagine being in a characters position, pacing over the wooden panels to slump onto a nearby chair.

Speaking of chairs, the furniture as well as all other set pieces and props were perfectly time period and seemed to fit in each scene like a glove. The only furniture piece I was confused by was an end- table which had its legs folded out onstage. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was time period. At any rate, it was very minor and the only even potential flaw I saw as far as production was concerned.

To continue with the spacial description, the actual theatre itself was wonderful. The chairs were comfortable, but not so soft that as to tempt a patron to slumber. And the arrangement of the seats was at a steeper incline than I was accustomed to, which made me feel much closer to the actors. It also meant that the projection of voice didn’t need to be as much of a concern. The acoustics also added to this. I heard every word that every actor spoke. For someone a bit hard of hearing in the balcony, it is a highly appreciated quality.

Now, the topic I have saved for last is the acting. I have never been so moved by a performance. These men and women actually sobbed at points. And this wasn’t your typical stage boo-hooing. These were actual throes of grief. This was counterpointed by the amazing ability of the actors to portray levity in other scenes. The only things that I noticed that might have been a bit off were in Olga and Natasha’s performances. Olga speaks the first lines in the play. That is a lot of pressure, and should thus be met with a large amount of skill and polish. Unfortunately, Olga’s opening lines seemed a little too polished to me. It’s a nuance, and I’m something of a critic for even mentioning it. As for Natasha, her performance was stellar and she delivered almost as many laugh lines as Solyony. Just a few times, though, she stepped on the audience’s laughter. It’s a very hard skill to master, gauging the audience’s giggles, and her acting more than made up for it. Her character is a subject of pity at the beginning and an embodiment of evil by the ending.

It’s difficult to explain the intricacies of the performances to someone. They were so good, so involved, that I found myself drawn into the action as I never have been before. I am still blown away.


In Conclusion:
Anton Chekhov is a genius, and his work Three Sisters has been reproduced beautifully. The acting, lights, sets, and translation were blended perfectly. In general, I’m not a fan dramas because I found them depressing and overbearing. But his use of humor throughout hard times is more attractive and realistic than most dramas. The crazy ups and downs, the trials and hardships, and the hopes and disheartenings of life are all part of this play. It’s all the same. Life is.


I loved this play, and I recommend it. Even the discrepencies that we discussed in my class today were so minor and subjective that they hardly count. It was good theatre, straight up.
I hope all of you are doing well and enjoying the beginning of October. I love pumpkin flavoring and Halloween, so I that I am! It's going to be a great month.

Love,
Caty