(I will put up in this place the various responses to Shakespeare In Italy as they come in.)
‘A hit, a very palpable hit.’ — Peter Goers, ABC, Adelaide.
‘Better than the Olympics.’ — Chris Schacht, former Senator from South Australia.
‘Better than 27 of Shakespeare’s plays, but not 37.’ — Paul Cox, film director.
‘A worthy addition to the Stratford canon.’ Bob Carr, Minister For Foreign Affairs.
‘Written beautifully in fine declamatory style … Ellis himself directs splendid performances from spirited locals, especially Wayne Anthoney and Jordan Fraser-Trumble as old and young Shakespeare, and Lucy Slattery as a scheming poetess reeling in Will’s affections. Anthoney does double duty as a cunning cleric who murders his way to the top.’ — Peter Burdon, Adelaide Advertiser.
‘A delightful, witty and comical piece of theatre that succeeds on virtually every level…an audience-pleaser which is deftly written and neatly acted with a mixture of sonnets, acute dialogue and songs … fully immerses its audience in its world. Great fun.’ Independent Online.
‘Slattery and Fraser-Trumble are the next Streep and Crowe.’ — Craig Lahiff, film director, Swerve.
‘If history is any measure of the classics of literature, the names Ellis and Lawrence will be referenced for centuries to come.’ — Ben Rillo, student activist.
‘A lovely piece of conceit and whimsy, of jest and speculation … superb writing … subtle and enlightening songs … sure and expressive performances.’ — Mark Batistich, Idependent Australia Online, see full review above.
Name:
I posted in the previous thread, I’ll say it again here: Bob, I would very much like to purchase a share in your film, please let me know the details via email.
Give me a minute, I’ll put them up below.
Have been preoccupied with last minute adjustments to music and lighting, sorry.
In half an hour.
Boban Services Pty Ltd, St George Bank, Kogarah branch. BSB112 879 account number 154980742.
Done, am I now an “Angel”?
allthumbs?
You saw my comment and still didn’t ask?!?!?
Good God man!
You have nerves of steel!!
Ye of little faith. Ellis has a pretty good strike rate. Pretty impressive track record, I’d say.
“So Ludwig, lucky number nine eh?. Well I’m not sure, yes, yes the first eight were good, very good in fact. I’ll tell you what, put together an audition, and I’ll decide then, OK. What do you mean speak up?”
allthumbs, I do believe there is a greater chance of deciphering the Antikythera Mechanism than there is of me making sense of this post of yours.
Soils ain’t soils Louie.
Just returning now from a weekend away. I spent it in Adelaide; visiting friends at Flinders, eating at a lot of indifferent restaurants and drinking at 2 lovely bars.
Oh, almost forgot!
Stopped in and saw a spot of …. theatre!
Remind me to tell you about it!
Anyone?
Anyone at all?
I didn’t think you’d need encouragement.
I’ve been waiting somewhat impatiently for your comment.
*drums fingers on table top*
Fedallah, do you enjoy teasing: Bob might be anxious to know what you think of his play.
“Better than one of Shakespeare’s, worse than 47 of Williamson’s” – Bob Ellis’ Salad Dressing.
By the rules of this website you do not judge what you have not read or seen and are therefore banned (again) for life.
From this day.
No appeals.
I do believe Fedallah did see it and would like to know what he thought.
Thank you Polybius & Bob for asking.
– for not asking.
And to Helvi and allthumbs –
Indulge me first: I’m going to see if I can make a point here.
I thought it better than 26 movies I could name quickly,
but not better than my first sexual experience.
I thought it better than an episode of “The Bachelor”,
but not better than any episode of Gervais’ “The Office”.
I thought it better than the gift my partner gave me for my birthday this year,
but not better than the abstract artwork that hangs on my wall.
I thought it better than most of Shaw,
but not better than anything from Beckett.
I thought it better than the elevator muzak in most shopping centres,
but not better than any chunk from “Lear” or “Hamlet”.
I thought it better than Libeskind’s extension to the Denver Art Museum,
but not better than LAN Architectures “Marchesini” headquarters in Paris.
I thought it better than any glass of red wine,
but not better than any glass of white.
I thought it better than my mother’s hair style,
but not better than my dark green suede jacket with the silk lining.
I thought it better than most contemporary art,
but not better than Kant.
I thought it better than driving my dad’s Corolla,
but not better than walking through a nature reserve.
I thought it better than my neighbour’s accent,
but not better than the rosella’s that often fly through my yard.
I thought it better than all Jeff Buckley’s post “Grace” output,
but not better than anything from Tim Buckley.
I thought it better than watching a bobcat clear land,
but not better than any chunk of Milton’s “Paradise Lost”.
I thought it better than the trumpet playing of Freddie the Cuban,
but not better than the cocaine (wrapped in floral razor blade packets) that his partner carried.
I thought it better than most of suburbia,
But not better than a graying old eucalypt in my neighbours yard.
I thought it better than 100′s of various entertainments,
but not better than these:
Genet’s “The Maids” or “The Balcony”
Eliot’s “Four Quartets”
Croce’s “Theory and History of Historiography”
Brancusi’s “Bird in Space”
Arrabal’s “The Two Executioners”
Hernandez’ “El Hombre Acecha”
Marcuse’s “Eros and Civilisation”
Markish’s “The Heap”
Steiner’s “In Bluebeard’s Castle”
Years’ “A Vision”
Owen’s war poems
Ricouer’s “The Rule of Metaphor”
Stein’s “Tender Buttons”
Wolfe’s “Look Homeward, Angel”
Mayakovsky’s “About This”
and so much more…so much more.
But that’s just me!
Mr Ellis, enough of my tomfoolery.
What did I think?
This is what I thought:
It seems that you have conceived and directed a most glorious little fancy; a fun and febrile romp through an imagined life of
Shakespeare “in Italy”.
Bob, my favourite, and hardly a surprise, was the language: a poesy sparkling, charming, and a delight to both Ear and Mind.
The stage? A glorious confection of light and colour and movement.
And your imaginative pastiche of history and fiction was a wonderfully measured construct of deft and taut design.
Well done.
Utterly convincing.
Utterly entertaining.
Congratulations to you personally.
You have done a good thing and so should justifiably be gluttonous with self approbation.
(I have two very minor quibbles; minor, which is why I mention it within these parenthesis), but they did little to subtract from the sum).
All things considered I enjoyed myself very much, as did my company of 4, and we left, smiling, to search for a bar in which to drink and laugh and talk of what we had just seen.
We stayed for hours.
I can give you no greater compliment.
I stood not 3 meters from you at one point, deciding whether to introduce myself.
My nerve failed me and so into the night we spilled…
Very funny and well put
Interesting romp, Fedallah, down your personal memory lane, and one struggles not to be too impressed with your erudition, albeit the words of my late mother were ringing in my inner ear: “Comparisons are odious”, she would declaim.
Some pertinence appeared after the smiley face, and I thank you for a robust critique. Well done. Too bad you didn’t say hi to RE, he’s a warm and worthy man to meet.
Thank you Stan, Helvi and Canguro.
To Canguro – it appears your mother and I are in accord; she would would have approved of my “pertinence” before the smiley face!
And yes, perhaps I should have extended my arm to the architect of the evenings festivities.
However the desire for anonymity kept my hand still.
Or maybe it was a stopped mouth!
What on earth would one say Canguro?
“Hello Mr Ellis, very pleased to meet you. I am Fedallah from your blog – perhaps you remember me? You have denounced me erroneously and threatened to eradicate me from your blog on 2 separate occasions.
Anyway, it was a great show!
Look, I understand you must have a million things planned for this evening but if you care why don’t you join us on a night of Bacchanalian high jinx?
You’re more than welcome.
Oh silly me, let me introduce you to my friend; this wild, beaming, and pugnacious creature, J.G.Cole. Perhaps you recognise the name?
You do?
Wonderful!
He’s a great fan. He organised this trip actually.
Anyway, we’d better keep moving.
Lovely to have met you and congratulations again on a wonderful show!”
No my dear Canguro, that simply would not have gone down well at all I’m afraid.
Best to keep it as it is.
I do like surprises though.
Next time!
The logical thing to do would be to introduce yourself as either Reader1, allthumbs, Doug Quixote, Helvi or possibly Patrick Dignam.
You could roll a dice to decide which one.
And then you might create enough chaos to put a permanent crimp in the fabric of space-time, incidentally revealing that the real writer of Shakespeare was Rameses II, channelled by Dr Dee.
Well done on your critique by the way.
I stand open-mouthed in admiration.
Now I’m going to close it.
Mischevious on many levels Polybius
I think Bob could verify our identities in short order – are our emails/URLs not available to him?
?
Err Doug, the email and URL details are digital constructs. They don’t cut it in the analog world of flesh, blood & piss.
As far as I know, I haven’t been microchipped yet, so I can’t introduce myself as r1200gs6@ such and such dot com and expect people to be able to verify that. Unbarcoded, and likely to remain so, an outlier.
Our Milo is of course micro-chipped, we heard stories that Jack Russells are hard dogs to keep on the front porch; not this one, he sleeps on the chair in front of the house (no fences) and never strays..
“introduce yourself as Doug Quixote”
Ah Polybius!
The possibilities would have been
endless!
Simply endless!
And one of your companions could be carrying a hat-box trimmed with organdy, containing the severed head of William Soil.
If the conversation began to flag, (this is pure hypothesis – how could the conversation possibly flag? Hmmm??), the head could be brought forth to utter disturbingly obscure occult prophecies and groan sepulchrally from time to time.
Just a thought.
Polybius, Fedallah is not DQ, R1,allthumbs or me. I know them from other blogs, and I can’t write like Fedallah…
Now, is Fedallah you, Polybius?
He was Patrick, but Patrick is gone…???
I know Fedallah isn’t any of them and I am not Fedallah.
I’m not sure who anybody is, with the possible exception of myself.
But can YOU prove that you’re not Edward de Vere?
No, but DQ can…
How can I do that, Helvi?
Life gets tough when one is 562 years old . . .
562 years of experience and wisdom might do it. No need for that: just compare the writing styles
Numerologically that has you at 13 doug.
You’ll be of legal age soon
Um, 462 that should be. Don’t want to wish my life away . . .
That makes you 12 then.
As ripe as an alter boy.
(*yes I know, that was in very poor taste
).
Close Helvi.
But still not quite there.
Well fuck me headless and leave me in a hatbox?
There is no thought.
Naturally, your head will be well-smoked to preserve it.
We wouldn’t want to lose anything.
And the lips sewn up and the ears and nostrils sealed with wax.
We don’t want anything unpleasant or hungry to get in.
It was all in Murdoch’s plan, when he paid off my mother in cans of spam and had plastique implanted in my cerebellum. He knew that I would piss off the wrong people, underline the wrong insecurities and break the wrong social rules at every possible opportunity, the readout was as concrete as anything else. It was a shame the eyes were closed and the visual feed, severed. He heard all the goings on of an Adelaide hotel room though, on the correct side of the digital cliff. Wry was the smile as he rubbed his paunch and keyed the red button.
I am but a fool. Nothing more, nothing less.
So really, chase your tail all you want but for all I care you can go and stand in front of the mirror and willfully stroke your jurgons till the cows come home. Don’t blame me for what you see though; assumption being the mother, brother and every other of all fuck ups.
It was all on the alter of something, or whatever.
It mattered to some, to others, not so much.
Moooooooooooo.
I was wondering what you looked like.
You say your Mother had to be ‘paid off’ to implant explosives in your head?
Curious.
Yes, I have a soft spot for Jim Carey.
Now that was quite something,Fedallah, I’m sure Bob will be pleased…
I did not ask because I knew that you would comment on it rather sooner than later
Very good Helvi
You may very well say that, but I couldn’t possibly comment.
(not having seen it, that is – when does it come to Sydney? I’ll be there with bells on!)
I’ll see you there. Tinker Bell
Hello Bob, you wanted to know my thoughts, you now have them before you.
There are no questions you’d like to ask?
No curiosity as to my two minor quibbles?
Nothing at all?
How strange.