The Reviews I Did and Did Not Write About Julius Caesar
The Review I Didn't Write:
$70!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SEVENTY DOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSS!!!!!!
Julius Caesar cost me $70 (including booking fee) as there are no concession tickets available on a Friday night.
Crikey Lord Almighty, that is over a third of my weekly budget. That is many meals. That is a lot of vodkas. That was a massive sacrifice.
Wish I'd bloody spent it on the voddies. Would've had WAY more fun.
Directed by Benedict Andrews at the STC, with a (wasted) stellar cast, this production hurt. Let me start by saying that my date had the same expression on her face as I did in Ruby's Last Dollar. Whilst it was not as bad as Ruby's I did spend most of my time fidgeting, wondering when interval was coming, wondering what on earth was going on on stage and even laughing at things that weren't supposed to be funny.
Lots of finger twinkling in this one. Mmm, lots of interesting movement work and interpretive theatre. Always love that.
It's never a good sign when you get half an hour into a play and have no idea what is going on or why Caesar's wife is a man. And why Caesar, for that matter, is a 102 year old skinny man. It's like killing the Pope. For god sake, just do it! I don't care if it was Arthur Dignam (and thank god he'll never read this because I not only know him but share a birthday with him), he SUCKED! Like nothing else.
WHAT WERE THEY SAYING?????
If anyone knows what the hell Julius Caesar was about, please let me know. I understood two actors last night, word for word: Paula Arundell and Ben Mendelsohn. Even the wonderful Robert Menzies was somehow lost in the production, in his weedy little red V neck. By the time we got to his monologues I was so bored I just didn't care any more.
And how much, pray tell, can you make of a set change?!?!? Just how long can you stretch it out in an already offensively long play?
This is what I have to say about the design:
DOWN bad togas! You look like grandma's wrinkly sheets draped sadly o'er such unattractive bodies.
AWAY green lights! I can't see anything and the play is sickly enough as it is.
OUT supurfluous microphone! Hanging so flacidly on the wall. I don't get you.
And Benedict Andrews, suck me. Have some faith in the bloody text. Shakespeare's been around a lot longer than you buddy. And give me my $70 bucks back. I shouldn't have to have a degree in wankerism to get your production.
As for you William. If it weren't for the fact that I love your plays and think that you are talented in an unparallelled way, I'd tell you to suck me too. But I could see that your poetic genius and insight had been sullied by a lesser man. So I forgive you.
The Review I Did Write:
Benedict Andrew's production of William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at the STC is a bold attempt to venture into risky territory with this age old classic.
An incredibly accomplished cast have been chosen to interpret this story of power, loyalty, betrayal and love with a modern twist. They move fluidly and confidently accross the stark stage, engaging in repetitious gestural movement, cross gender representations, mask work and lengthy candle lighting exercises, mixing it up, as they say, to tell us this well worn tale.
Unfortunately this highly intellectual production did not always strike a cord with it's audience. The visually exciting choices did not augment the play and rather than help to clarify the story, they served only to confuse it. And us.
My hat goes off to Benedict Andrews for having the guts to try something so brave at the STC but ultimately Julius Caesar left those of it's audience, who endured the three hours twenty, baffled and busting for the toilet. It failed to move us.
$70!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SEVENTY DOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSS!!!!!!
Julius Caesar cost me $70 (including booking fee) as there are no concession tickets available on a Friday night.
Crikey Lord Almighty, that is over a third of my weekly budget. That is many meals. That is a lot of vodkas. That was a massive sacrifice.
Wish I'd bloody spent it on the voddies. Would've had WAY more fun.
Directed by Benedict Andrews at the STC, with a (wasted) stellar cast, this production hurt. Let me start by saying that my date had the same expression on her face as I did in Ruby's Last Dollar. Whilst it was not as bad as Ruby's I did spend most of my time fidgeting, wondering when interval was coming, wondering what on earth was going on on stage and even laughing at things that weren't supposed to be funny.
Lots of finger twinkling in this one. Mmm, lots of interesting movement work and interpretive theatre. Always love that.
It's never a good sign when you get half an hour into a play and have no idea what is going on or why Caesar's wife is a man. And why Caesar, for that matter, is a 102 year old skinny man. It's like killing the Pope. For god sake, just do it! I don't care if it was Arthur Dignam (and thank god he'll never read this because I not only know him but share a birthday with him), he SUCKED! Like nothing else.
WHAT WERE THEY SAYING?????
If anyone knows what the hell Julius Caesar was about, please let me know. I understood two actors last night, word for word: Paula Arundell and Ben Mendelsohn. Even the wonderful Robert Menzies was somehow lost in the production, in his weedy little red V neck. By the time we got to his monologues I was so bored I just didn't care any more.
And how much, pray tell, can you make of a set change?!?!? Just how long can you stretch it out in an already offensively long play?
This is what I have to say about the design:
DOWN bad togas! You look like grandma's wrinkly sheets draped sadly o'er such unattractive bodies.
AWAY green lights! I can't see anything and the play is sickly enough as it is.
OUT supurfluous microphone! Hanging so flacidly on the wall. I don't get you.
And Benedict Andrews, suck me. Have some faith in the bloody text. Shakespeare's been around a lot longer than you buddy. And give me my $70 bucks back. I shouldn't have to have a degree in wankerism to get your production.
As for you William. If it weren't for the fact that I love your plays and think that you are talented in an unparallelled way, I'd tell you to suck me too. But I could see that your poetic genius and insight had been sullied by a lesser man. So I forgive you.
The Review I Did Write:
Benedict Andrew's production of William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at the STC is a bold attempt to venture into risky territory with this age old classic.
An incredibly accomplished cast have been chosen to interpret this story of power, loyalty, betrayal and love with a modern twist. They move fluidly and confidently accross the stark stage, engaging in repetitious gestural movement, cross gender representations, mask work and lengthy candle lighting exercises, mixing it up, as they say, to tell us this well worn tale.
Unfortunately this highly intellectual production did not always strike a cord with it's audience. The visually exciting choices did not augment the play and rather than help to clarify the story, they served only to confuse it. And us.
My hat goes off to Benedict Andrews for having the guts to try something so brave at the STC but ultimately Julius Caesar left those of it's audience, who endured the three hours twenty, baffled and busting for the toilet. It failed to move us.
posted by Darcy at 3:41 PM
1 Comments:
Mazey, I didn't think you cared so much.
Hear hear! Or is it it here here?
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