Thursday, April 22, 2010
Anything Goes
Fences hits the stage!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Good Fences Make Good Neighbors (ie-keep us the hell out!)
Despite the fact I did not find the plot of Fences all that intriguing, I thought it served as an interesting example of character development using certain tools. So far in this class, we have not spent much time looking at different voices, and I thought the use of dialect served to not only give character distinction, but to highlight the racial and historical background of the characters. It was a character trait in and of itself, but it was also a signifier of a greater cultural context, that gave instant depth to the character just by the sound of it.
Other than that though, I thought the family dynamic was a bit stereotypical and two-dimensional. The father-son conflict was not flushed out enough, and they were both angry for the sake of being angry. I think this is interesting because it poses the question; how to go about creating something emotionally intense? I think there is a huge difference between something that causes emotional purging that is organic and interesting, and drama just for the sake of furthering the plot. Oftentimes I thought the characters were being overly angry or dramatic just because this was meant to be a dramatic play, and it was not realistic, nor did it make me particularly interested in the characters.
Maybe that was another issue I had with this play. I did not sympathize with any of the characters. For example, Troy was a grown man with the maturity of a 14 year old. He was self-pitying, and completely egocentric. I id not care what happened to him, and oftentimes pegged him as the antagonist. Meanwhile, Rose, his wife, I found to be a very nondescript female co-star. She was plain, yet strong at the essential times, but not in any progressive, intriguing way. I found her to be the typical female character that is needed in every play to counter balance the overly-aggressive male cast. The only character who had any originality, and I found any interest in reading about was Gabe, and even he was taken advantage of by every other character, which was just frustrating.
Overall, I thought the play was interesting, but cliché, and the characters gave off the illusion of depth simply because they were moody, when in fact, I think they were stereotypical and underdeveloped.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Eurydice
It took me a few reads of the first part of this to really understand how I felt about this piece. Somewhere in the middle is a transition that occurs that makes Eurydice a much more interesting and compelling character. I did not enjoy the first part of this at all. The second, however, I was very drawn to.
At first, Orpheus and Eurydice seem scattered, uninteresting characters with no depth. Then, as they begin interacting with the underworld, the transition happens. It is as though relearning all the information about her life has made it more important to her. However, at the end, she abandons both her father and her husband. The ideas and morals in this story are very compelling, but I found Eurydice to not be worthy of such a profound story as a character.
However, the Greek Chorus is a really interesting thing to interact with, especially as a playwrite. They are characters that are both narrators (and thus outside the story and omniscient), yet they interact with the characters and help guide them. It is only in Greek theatre that this kind of overlap is possible, and it allows for the characters to directly interact with the story itself, because they seem to break the rules of the story that the Stones dictate. I wonder how we could adapt this into different types of narrators for types of theatre other than this.
As much as I disliked the character of Eurydice, I think she grows the most in the play. This is very much a coming of age story for her, and the progression she goes through of relearning everything from the ground up is a very nice build to climax. I also liked how the climax of the piece was not when she is sent back to her second death, but rather, when she gets there, and she goes through her second mourning of her father. This is a very philosophical and gripping idea, and that was really the aspect of the story that struck me most.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Dialogues!
Dialogue is a very tricky thing. Unlike monologues, a character cannot stand on his/her own, and the stream of consciousness must be guided by another person. As in the scene from Closer, it was a call and response that built to a climax. In this way, it is almost more honest and developed than a monologue because, not only are you held responsible by what you say, but there is someone interacting and responding to your answers. Because of this, it allows a more astute development of the problems, and of the characters. A person needs a driving force to allow a guide to their story. As in Death of a Salesman, having someone deny you creates an obstacle. It clearly demonstrates who the protagonist and antagonist is, and thus furthering the development of plot and character analysis. This cannot happen in a monologue, because, even the antagonist will be able to defend his own point of view. The duality of characters allows the audience to become attached to one or the other, and thus become more emotionally invested.
The series of questions and answers is, perhaps, the most important feature of the dialogue. A play/movie/any story really is made up of questions; some big, overlying questions that drive the entire plot, and some smaller, more immediate questions that keep the audience intrigued and dedicated throughout. Dialogue is the easiest and most satisfying way to answer questions quickly and directly. Angels in America is a perfect depiction of direct question and response that develops the characters, as well as involving the audience. Many times they are asking questions that the audience already knows the answer to, and that allows the audience to become omniscient views, and includes them in something that the characters themselves have been left out of. This creates a bond between the audience and the characters, and gives them a sense of power or control over the situation (which everyone likes).
Even with Shakespeare, dialogue provides an outlet to allow the audience to see the characters interact. This is much more effective than monologue in Shakespeare because, I am willing to admit, it is easy to get lost in the language and miss the point of a character. But, as in Henry IV, dialogue is intriguing, and creates character just from their intonation and body language. The way two characters interact physically tells almost more about them than the words themselves, and this is a crucial part of character development. Because of this, dialogues are not only more entertaining for the audience, but more precise, and thorough with representing and furthering character and plot development.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Blogpost 1: the mystery of the monologue
There are many different ways for a monologue to be presented; within a larger context, or self-sufficient; thematically related and compiled; interview style; or structurally similar. All of these are presented between the three works The Laramie Project, The Vagina Monologues, and Sonnets for an Old Century. It is The Laramie Project that is most contextual, and, therefore, I think, the most effective. However, there are good and bad elements to all three compositions.
The Laramie Project is useful in that it plays interestingly with both theme and chronology. It takes a series of private interviews from over a year, about a past event, and arranges it so it is as though the present is merging with the past, and all the characters are inter-related, although they may have never really met. In this way, it builds a common identity, and allows a more developed character relationship, and an idea of universal values (or a shared common experience). I also like how the interviewer is present and interacting with the characters, because it gives a good representation of the real conversation, and the process. It adds to the context and makes the realism of their project that much more poignant. However, the purpose of a monologue is that it should be self-sustaining, (or understandable sans background and context), and I think these examples kind of tow the line because they are dependent upon each other to understand not only themes, but chronology, and the importance of multiple viewpoints.
On the other hand, The Vagina Monologues are completely independent from one another, yet linked thematically. It is very good at illuminating the scope of one topic by depicting multiple viewpoints. However, the target audience is difficult to understand, because there are certain times when the character is responding to a direct question, almost as though there is an invisible interviewer the audience cannot see or hear. This, to me, is isolating the audience, and putting them in the role of ignorant outsider, rather than the 3rd person omniscient that allows the audience to feel included. Also, its very disjunctive, and thus breaks up the flow of the piece. I think this way of unseen interviewer is not effective, and detracts from the idea of a personal relationship between the character and the audience. I do, however, think that these monologues are self-sustaining, and thus more effective of being independent viewpoints.
Lastly, Sonnets for and Old Century is yet another experiment with independent viewpoints, where there is no obvious thematic or chronological connection between these monologues, yet their structure and honesty is what makes them relate to one another, and allows the audience to relate to them all as a whole and cohesive entity. Also, the lack of a set identity allows the monologue to be more accessible and universal because of its malleability to different characters. Depending on who is playing each character, it gives the monologue new meaning and context, because each person comes with their own background. Thus, it is a very effective way to get many different viewpoints just from one piece of work. Both other works were confined to the original speaker, which works and was a specific choice. However, this openness allows the monologue to, itself, be void of context, yet as soon as someone begins to recite it, it gains their own context, and is thus grounded in realism more so than either of the previous works.
Because of these useful yet distinct differences between these three works, it shows the versatility of the monologue, and allows playwrites to manipulate and mold to serve one of many different purposes for a story or idea.