After finishing Room, I knew it was time to relax with something much lighter. I haven't read a play in a long, long time, so I bravely ventrued down the basement steps, maneuvered my way through the yet to be hung Heart-A-Rama costumes, past the heaps of papers, wire bindings, and kitchy stuff set up for my book binding experiments in crafty corner, around the couch, and finally into the sanest, and least used part of my home - the office. Who knows what I need an office for, but it is there that things are organized, (mostly!) - neatly filed and sorted, easy to find (mostly!) and where my overflow books, my silly Masters thesis, and hundreds of play scripts can be found. I picked grabbed the Farndale series and headed outside.
Now, if you haven't met the women on the Farndale Avenue Housing Estate Townswomen's Guild Dramatic Society, keep your eyes pealed for a production near you. These wacky women's earnest attmepts to produce theatre inevitable clash with Murphy's Law. On Sunday, I decided to see what happened when this jolly crew prepared Macbeth.
The producer, director, and players hope their version of the Scottish play will guarantee them a place in the Drama finals at Welwyn Garden City after nine months of painstaking rehearsals. However, under the carefully mascara'd eye of adjudicator Mr. George Peach, events conspire to ensure that everything will not be all right on opening night. Injured Kate bravely troupes on with her leg in a cast only to find her injuries growing more painful as the show progresses. Lady Macbeth misses her bus stop and gets carried away by public transport. Henry, the nearsighted producer, must step into the role...without his glasses, but clearly undhsven. And, as if that isn't enough, Peach announces they have only 8 1/2 minutes left in which to finish most of the final act, or they will be disqualified from the competition. As usual, the ladies rise to the occassion - they may not reach Welwyn Garden City - but the do come close to doing for Macbeth what Tom Stoppard did for Hamlet. (If you haven't read Stoppards's 15 Minute Hamlet, do that before reading this play.)
The Frandale plays are good for a laugh both on stage and off.
What will I read next? Well, The Wierd Sisters by Eleanor Brown is calling. I don't know if it is an homage to the witches of Macbeth, or if the title is purley symbolic. We'll see.
I'm still struggling with the changes Blogger made - just to irritate me, I'm sure. but, at least this version lets me underline. That's good. It problaby does other tricks; maybe they will reveal themselves soon.
Thanks for stopping by.
