I could have told them that, too!

Before I begin, a little theatrical history, er, well, my theatrical history actually but you'll find it fascinating, darlings, I promise you!  My very first role was in 1983 in a production of Richard III.  Naturally, given my regal bearing, I was cast as a king, er, no, not actually 'Dick III' but his brother and predecessor, Edward IV.  You see, the director started the production with the final scene of Henry VI, Part III, with a triumphant Edward having won the civil war sitting on his throne enjoying his bragging rights.  A battle scene then ensued in which I was killed - yes, I know, shockin', shockin', and my 'body' was carried off.  And that was that, except for a series of 'walk-ons' when I 'played' sundry serving men and soldiers and some undeserving, untalented oaf pranced about centre stage playing 'Dick III' which, of course, should have been my part!  Not an auspicious beginning!  

The following year my talent had obviously been noted and I was promised a much bigger role in the forthcoming production of The Merchant of Venice.  That's more like it, I thought, what will they give me - Antonio perhaps, or maybe Bassanio, or even the old Jew himself?  No, no, the director told me, you'll be playing Launcelot Gobbo, the clown!  

No, they're not original UGG boots, more like YUK boots, especially with the turned-up toes which, alas, never took on!  Anyway, all of this elongated theatrical ramble is by way of bringing you the less than startling news that Shakespeare's jokes aren't funny.  No less of a grand theatrical Panjandrum than Sir Richard Eyre has announced it. 

Sir Richard Eyre, is a successful playwright (although I remain underwhelmed), a director of note and the former head honcho of The Royal National Theatre.  I stress the word 'Royal' because that is their proper title but they're such a bunch of Leftie arseholes that they refuse to use it.  Anyway, Sir Richard has admitted that many of Shakespeare's jokes simply are not funny.  Part of the reason lies in the fact that they were topical - in his day.  Now, some 400 years later, the references are unknown except to one or two scholars.

Well, I could have told him that years ago after playing Gobbo, surely the unfunniest 'clown' ever invented,  Night after night I would bounce out onto stage and utter these 'hilarious' lines:

Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from
this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and
tempts me saying to me 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good
Launcelot,' or 'good Gobbo,' or good Launcelot
Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away. My
conscience says 'No; take heed,' honest Launcelot;
take heed, honest Gobbo, or, as aforesaid, 'honest
Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy
heels.' Well, the most courageous fiend bids me
pack: 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the
fiend; 'for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,'
says the fiend, 'and run.' Well, my conscience,
hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely
to me 'My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest
man's son,' or rather an honest woman's son; for,
indeed, my father did something smack, something
grow to, he had a kind of taste; well, my conscience
says 'Launcelot, budge not.' 'Budge,' says the
fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience.
'Conscience,' say I, 'you counsel well;' ' Fiend,'
say I, 'you counsel well:' to be ruled by my
conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master,
who, God bless the mark, is a kind of devil; and, to
run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the
fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil
himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil
incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is
but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel
me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more
friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are
at your command; I will run. 

Well, talk about laugh - absolutely no-one did!

Incidentally, both those performances took place in the open air beneath the ancient walls of Windsor Castle.  For some reason never vouchsafed by her lackeys, 'Her Maj' failed to show up!  Anyway, now that I have mastered the technicalities of putting original photos onto my blog, alas, you are now going to receive a steady stream of theatrical reminiscences.  Well, at least you can switch off, my poor friends have to suffer with faint false smiles of appreciation as I drone on and on.

 

Comments

[Cuffleyburgers]

Well Duffers, sitting at my desk of a mid summer's night, dreaming of winning the lottery... I tried reciting those lines to myself and while not exactly sidesplitting they would elicit a wry smile at un-PNness of the lines. They would be much funnier of course of jew could be replaced by welshman, geordie or indeed pakistani...

[Whitewall]

David I suspect you might be the only one here with enough refinement and intellectual chops to deal with this particular offering of yours. Now that second dude pictured...he is funny looking and his Mother dresses him funny.

[Cuffleyburgers]

Duffers - forgot to mention, with face like yours you should have been on the radio!

[Andra]

I rather like the wig (if that's what it is) in the second photo.
Have you ever thought of a change..... say, like that Caitlyn Jenner who used to be somebody else?
I think you've got the head for it.

[David Duff]

Bitches, all three of you but one gets used to it when one is a star!

[missred]

Amateur dramatics, used car salesman, and handsome to boot! Memsahib got the perfect kit!

[Frank]

Are you really trying to tell me that Sir Richard refuses to use the full title of the Royal National Theatre yet he still uses the full title "Sir Richard"? As my old Granny used to say: there's nowt so queer as folk.

[David Duff]

Miss Red, once again, darling, you demonstrate what a lady of taste and discrimination, you are!

Frank, welcome to D&N, but to paraphrase your old Granny. 'there's nowt so queer as *Leftie* folk'!

[Kevin B]

It'd a funny thng, this Sir business. Richard Eyre directed my favourite production of La Traviata for the Royal Opera House which in it's promotion literature tends to underplay his title yet always uses the Royal. But he also directed a great Carmen for the Metropolitan Opera New York, which doesn't have a Royal to it's name but always stresses Dickie's Sir.

Similarly, David McVicar directed a great Rigoletto for the ROH whereas Sir David McVicar did a pretty good Trovatore for the Met.

[David Duff]

I still await my 'Sir-hood', Kevin, but there are just so many bitches in theatre. Still, it can only be a matter of time, I'm sure!

[Frank]

I'm holding out for a peerage. I'm just trying to work out how much it will cost and which political party is the cheapest.

[David Duff]

Definitely Labour, Frank, socialists never know the price of anything!