“Bill” from the makers of Horrible Histories. Photo taken from British Comedy Guide (http://www.comedy.co.uk)
So you’re an actor, but you were tragically deprived of natural vocal talent, a good ear, and the discipline to attend (and pay for) voice lessons. Like any good artist, you then picked the safety-option that still allowed you to make use of your passion, your cheekbones, and your smug refusal to work in an office building full-time. That option was film. Then, when film failed, you fell back on Shakespeare because there are no royalties and no one expects you to know what you’re saying anyway.
You are a member of a proud tradition that carries a lot of clout and very little respect in this crazy contemporary theater world. Have you ever caught a singer belting in the middle of a conversation for no reason and thought to yourself: “Why can’t I be that guy?” Have you ever wondered what “Last Five” was, and why so many of your more financially successful artist-friends were so obsessed with it? Have you ever wanted someone to offer you a pasted-on smile that barely conceals an oh-so-valid desire to punch you in the face?
WELL NOW YOU CAN TOO! Follow these tips and tricks, and you’ll be a self-centered, superior douchebag in no time!
1. QUOTES, QUOTES, QUOTES: Insert popular quotes into everyday conversation.
Nothing shows off your superior intellect and artistic purity like quoting the Bard, or “Throwing down Shakes,” as I call it. Is a friend’s love-life on the rocks? “The course of true love never did run smooth.” Boom! Saying goodbye? “Parting is such sweet sorry.” Bam! Is your uncle secretly a serial-killer who’s been hiding bodies in his basement and was just arrested by the cops? “’twas a rough night.” This Shakespeare guy has an answer for everything. Just throw a sage line or two out there (not even the whole line, just the most famous part), and you’ll be the envy of every Tybalt and Tamara from here to Coriolus. Don’t be fooled by those narrow-eyed glares: that’s straight up Iago-style envy.
Now I know what you’re thinking: “Memorizing lines is hard! That’s why I always wait ’til final dress. Now you’re telling me to memorize lines that I don’t even get to perform while wearing a starchy ruff!?* P’shaw, sir!” First of all, nice use of “p’shaw.” Secondly, just use your own lines from whatever plays you’ve done: Romeo & Juliet, Midsummer Night’s Dream, or that other one. Of course, if you really want to impress people, make sure you quote someone other than the character you played: that’s how everyone knows that Two Gentlemen of Venice really meant a lot to you on a personal level. You didn’t just learn adequate approximations of your own lines; you even listened to some of Antonio’s lines too. Cause Shakespeare is your life.
Can’t think of a good quote? Make one up! Toss a “thou” or a “wherefore” in there, and no one will be the wiser. If somebody asks you what play you’re quoting, Pericles, Timon of Athens, and even Troilus & Cressida are virtual gold-mines of ambiguity and uncertainty in your fellow actors.
But just to be safe, try and keep your quotes limited to the classics: Midsummer Night’s Dream (or “Midsummer” for those of us truly in the know), Romeo & Juliet (“R&J”), or Hamlet (“Let”). After all, you don’t want anyone confusing you for a Coleridge fan or some such nonsense.
Last but not least: if accused of misquoting, just say “It’s Folio.”
*(Replace “starchy ruff” with “faux military jacket,” “ten-gallon hat,” or “thrift-store suit that’s been sitting in the school wardrobe for thirty-five years,” depending on your director’s artistic vision).
2. Advocate For A Controversial Play or Character.
So the quotes aren’t impressing people. They’ve heard them all before. It’s time to Shake things up by fighting for a cause that nobody really knew was an actual cause. Show everyone how The Merchant of Venice isn’t actually anti-semitic. Do you live in an area where no one has even considered that Merchant of Venice is anti-semitic to begin with (ie: the Midwest)? Then show everyone how horribly racist it is, and how it’s the one play in the cannon you won’t touch, no matter how much you love Bill (That’s what you call him, “Bill,” cause you’re so close).
The possibilities are limitless: Ophelia is pregnant, Taming of the Shrew is really about empowered relationships*, Puck is the true protagonist, Hamlet is a dream cycle, Rodrigo shot first. You can find something to surprise your friends and make you stand out. And best of all, whatever ridiculous theory you come up with, some scholar has already written a paper on it. Ask a teacher to synopsize that paper, and use that to argue your point.
*(If you live in an area where no one has thought that Taming of the Shrew might be sexist {ie, the Midwest} then show everyone how horribly misogynist it is, and how it’s the one play in the cannon you won’t touch, no matter how much you love Bill {That’s what you call him, “Bill,” cause you’re so close}).
Of course, the pinnacle of Shakespearean controversy is…
3. Become An Anti-Stratfordian!
There’s no way Shakespeare, an ignorant country bumpkin, could have written so many amazingly beautiful pays (of which you have read four). Go watch Anonymous, then spread the truth! Caste systems! Geographical restraints! Pia Mater!
Or have all your friends already seen Anonymous? No problem: become a fierce Stratfordian! Show them how you, and you alone, have the sacred duty and power to defend the reputation of the most famous writer in history. Who cares if you’ve only read two of his plays and only seen four others?* If there’s one thing organize religion has taught you, it’s that the words and what they mean don’t matter. All that matters is the zealous worship of a dead celebrity!
*(Well, you’ve seen two of his plays, but you’ve seen them both twice, if you count the movie).
4. Watch every film-version of Romeo & Juliet, then tell your friends how your production was better.
Be really specific. Repeat your points until they get it. Say “Zeffirelli” a lot. Likewise, tell everyone how you would have performed each role better than the actual actor. If anyone asks you about the musicians scene, just point out that “wherefore” actually means “why,” not “where.” That’ll show ’em.
5. Memorize Shakespeare’s Life.
Jason Robert Brown, Andrew Lloyd Weber, Gilbert & Sullivan: musical theater performers have so many different celebrities to memorize in the complex ballet of Mamet-esque one-upmanship that is “Knowing your Art.” But you’ve only got one guy to worry about! Sure, you could look up Ben Jonson or that Morris Dancer guy (and picking a relatively obscure contemporary like Webster is a surefire way to out-smug the smug), but Bill is your one true love, your rock. And best of all, we barely know anything about him, so it’ll only take you about thirty minutes to learn it all! Become an encyclopedia on the Bard’s theoretical life and loves, his chronology, and how his (again, theoretical) life is reflected in his plays. Was he a secret Catholic? A Free Thinker? A Misogynist? A Feminist? You decide! Then tell everyone! Any time anyone mentions any famous composer, choreographer, singer, dancer, or producer, you tell ’em how Shakespeare did whatever their favored celebrity did, only better. Cause he was Shakespeare! Sure this won’t make you any better at performing verse, but why are you even bringing that up?
6. Hipster’s Choice: Name a Less Popular Play as your favorite.
Musical Theater kids have great vocal control and incredible jawlines. It’s natural that they’re going to get work in Shakespeare shows when they’re not touring Joseph or paying half a year’s salary ($500) to do a workshop with Stephen Sondheim (or “Steve,” they call him “Steve,” cause they’re so close). How can you show them that you’re more Shakespearey than they’ll ever be? Especially when they’re playing the young leading lovers and you’re covered in age-makeup, pretending to be a blind old man while some patter-singer makes fun of you in a vacuous monotone?
Just ask: WWHD? They’d pick an obscure play and champion it. Now remember: you don’t have to read the play. God knows nobody else will. Just pick a relatively important character, read some Spark Notes on him or her, and tell these singers how you can’t wait to get back to doing real Shakespeare somewhere, with a real director who appreciates real actors. Then you can finally deliver the Thersites fart monolog that you’ve been perfecting since age nine.
7. Are You A Guy? Talk About How Richard III Is Your Role!
8. Are You A Girl? Talk About How Joan of Arc Is Your Role!
9. Are You Literally Anyone? Talk About How Iago Is Your Role! Cause Hamlet is so cliche!
10. Go see a play with a “Shakespeare Celebrity” in it.
Like Mark Rylance. Tell everyone how great the play and the actor were, but don’t get specific. Just keep saying “Ugh” a lot. Describe how the actors looked, especially the famous ones. Say “Ugh” again. You really can’t say “Ugh” enough. Extra points if you watched another celebrity in the audience while they watched the play.
11. Point At Something And Say “Actually, that’s in Prose.”
12. Have A Strong Opinion About Kenneth Branaugh.
13. Say “Murther.” Make a big deal out of it.
14. Finally, again, when in doubt, say “It’s Folio.”
