Come Live with Me

Instead of eating breakfast this morning I watched a romantic, old movie. Come Live with Me was made in 1941 and stars James Stewart and Hedy Lamarr. (The Turner Classic Movies channel is playing Hedy Lamarr films in honor of it being her birthday today.)

Lamarr plays an immigrant whose temporary visa has expired and must either leave the country or marry an American citizen. Fortunately she finds Stewart. Stewart is a down-on-his-luck writer who’s just lost his last dime. She quickly convinces him to marry her in exchange for just enough money for him to live on each week. He immediately sits down to write this story that is stranger than fiction… though he’s not sure how to end it since she just visits once a week to drop off a check and doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in actually loving this man she’s married. He is urged by the milk man to make the character get off his butt, or as he puts it “…get some pants”, and get the girl because the story needs a happy ending. Stewart’s character sends out the first couple chapters of his book to publishers, one of whom recognizes the story because he is Lamarr’s older, rich, married boyfriend who is about to ask his wife for a divorce so he can marry Lamarr’s character. The publisher’s wife loves the story instantly and insists that he give Stewart an advance. Stewart uses the advance to whisk Lamarr off to the country to visit his wise grandmother. In the end Stewart recites some poetry to Lamarr and she falls for him and decides to staty with the writer in the country rather than go to a life of luxury with the publisher.

Moral of the story: pretty words always get the girl. It doesn’t matter what you look like or how much money you make, if you write or recite poetry the girl is yours. (I believe Sherman Alexie said something to that effect when I saw him speak.)

Just beware of those other literate men.

Now, classic films are really no substitute for breakfast, so I am going to go get a bowl of cereal.

Musical Trickster

If I remember correctly there was a musical artist, about ten years ago, by the name of Chris Gaines who suddenly appeared out of the woodwork and with great fanfare. He appeared on Saturday Night Live and was rumored to be starring in a movie. After a very short while of everyone questioning ‘ooooh, who’s this new pop star?’ it was revealed that he was actually a well known country music star of the time- Garth Brooks. He’d slapped on a long-ish wig, struck some moody poses in a photo shoot and put an album out under his psuedonym. The life and popularity of Chris Gaines turned out to be very short-lived, but also put Garth Brooks very much in the spotlight for that time. I’m willing to bet that the stunt was at least a little beneficial to his career.

An Example Of Trickster In Theatre

Those who have been in classes with me should know that I have a propensity for relating any topic whatsoever to the theatre. Well, I’m going to do it again.

On November 1st I had the pleasure of attending the Talking Book Salon that is sponsored by the MSU English department and is held on the first tuesday of the month. The topic was trickster figures and it was facilitated by Dr. Sexson with the help of his grad students. We were asked to identify trickster figures in film, music, and literature. I submited the Marx Brothers, a group of vaudville actors who made several popular films in the 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. In their films they were constantly deceiving the affluent authority figures, encroaching on the personal space of women, stealing the girl(or at least trying), and somehow getting far more from those around them than they should have gotten. They were highly influential to the art of comedy as we know it. Shades of the Marx Brothers and references to them can be found everywhere, from Woody Allen to The Simpsons to the character of Hawkeye Pierce on M*A*S*H. However, the comedy of the Marx Brothers was nothing new. Long before they appeared on the New York Vaudville scene actors were hamming it up in a form of theatre called Commedia dell’ Arte.

Commedia dell’ Arte originated in Italy in the mid-1500’s and involves a set of stock characters and a combination of formulaic skits called lazzi. The actors were all well-versed in the characters they played and the lazzi were rehearsed extensively. During the course of a show this preparation allowed the actors to abruptly switch to a new lazzi as needed. One example of this is a lazzi that could be turned to if things were not going well and the audience was not enjoying the performance. The lazzi of nightfall was very popular and I’m guessing was pretty much infallible. One actor would indicate that night had suddenly fallen and everyone would procede to lurch their way around bumping into things, mistaking identities and often groping one another. The audience would, of course, be entertained by their antics.

Now, how do I argue that this all ties into the idea of the trickster?

Firstly, trickery abounds in Commedia dell’ Arte. A character will pretend to be crazy so that he can freely beat the people around him or a dead character pops up to inform the audience that it is rude to disturb the dead. A character puts on an accent and pretends not to speak English in order to dupe someone out of his money. Over and over the characters are tricked by one another and the audience is tricked by the actors.

Secondly, identities and situations are never solid, certain and expected. In one lazzi two affluent characters hire servants to fight their duel for them. When they all meet to carry out the planned duel it is discovered that the two servants are old friends and have no intention of fighting. Characters change form through magic and also physically twist their bodies into alternate forms. Identical twins are mistaken for one another, usually with one getting the other in trouble.

Thirdly, most lazzi, in some way or another, deal with profane or disgusting acts. The male characters are always trying to get the female characters into bed or at least grope them. Simulated sex acts are common and erections are fair game as well. Enemas, usually unnecesary, are a very popular topic too. In one lazzi a female character is tied to a tree and two drunk male characters, upon discovering her, decide to urinate on the nearest tree… which, of course, is the one she is tied to.

Trickster is a central figure in this form of theatre. The lazzi of Commedia dell’ Arte is full of examples of trickery and deception and this form of comedic theatre is a part of the origins of our present day sense of comedy and has informed and helped create many of our present day trickster figures.

Now, give me a topic, any topic, and I’ll relate it to the art of theatre!

It’s Mine, I Say, It’s Mine!

I just finished reading a book about bookplates. You know, the little cards that are affixed to the inside cover of a book to show ownership. Yes, a whole book about them.

It was an absolutely fascinating book. They are tiny pieces of artwork, often commisioned by well-known artists or lovingly designed by relatives, that show so much about the personality, interests and life of the book owner. They’re like personal logos. For instance, Albert Einstein’s bookplate perfectly illustrated his constant search for scientific knowledge with drawing of a man standing on a mountain top and reaching up into the swirling cosmos above him. Joan Crawford’s showed the narcisism and self-confidence that made her a famous actress by replacing the face of the Venus De Milo with her own(arguably her most valuable asset). Some bookplates showed the owner of the book engaging in their favorite leisure activities, some showed their devotion to their work or their art, and still others were mysteriously personal and difficult to interpret(though I’m sure the owner derived great joy from that miniature exposition of self despite the fact that I don’t understand it).

I’ve been giving the matter a bit of thought lately and I haven’t a clue what I would want my own bookplate to look like… however, I’ve started designing one for my younger sister based on a couple of ideas she gave me in a discussion of the subject. Who knows, maybe it could turn into a Christmas gift. Now, if only I were a better artist…

We’ll See…

As per request I am providing an update on my current work situation.

I went back to my job. Permanently? Hmmm… we’ll see. Things are still crazy and pretty stressful at work.

On the upside of things I now have three solid days off each week instead of being on call seven days a week. My work week is now Friday through Monday beginning at 5am and going until whenever I’ve finished what I need to get done(sometime between 3 and 5pm). Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday are all mine to do whatever I want with and you can bet I won’t be answering my phone.

Oh, yes and I still have my health insurance.(Yay!!!)

So, what will I do with three days off every week??? I think I might do a bit of reading, writing, sleeping and otherwise relaxing. I won’t be worrying about work anyway. Aaaand… I’ll probably be able to visit friends and family in Helena on my days off. =)

Work would be great if… no, wait, nevermind.

I quit. I did it. I’ve not yet found another job although they are abundant here. My former boss called me this morning to tell me that the schedule I want may actually be okay and I should come and talk to him tomorrow whenever I get up and get going. He sounded really cheerful when I agreed to that. We’ll see. I need to think about that a little. We’ll see.

Aaaaaaand I’m back. (maybe)

Wowza. I have not posted in a little over a month. Actually, I’ve done almost nothing but work for the past month… and it is getting to me. I’m applying for a new job. I’ve somehow come to a point where the thought of not going into work until 8am, leaving at 5pm, and getting weekends and holidays off is just unbelievable. It seems like it would be heaven. Oh, yes, and being able to use the vacation time I’ve earned without guilt trips. That would be nice also. Basically, folks, I am tired, depressed and probably on the verge of getting sick and all because of my job. I hate everything.

Million Dollar Ba…. zzzzzzz…

I watched Million Dollar Baby last night. I was not, so to speak, all that impressed. I’ve been wanting to see it since it came out in the theaters and especially since it was nominated for and won several academy awards. It won Best Director(Clint Eastwood), Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor(Morgan Freeman), and Best Actress(Hilary Swank) at the 77th Academy Awards.

The movie had really slow pacing and was repetitive. I commented on how long the movie seemed to be at one point because it felt like I had been watching it for about three hours. I was informed that we were just a little over an hour into the movie. Bleck.

I didn’t see any real depth to any of the characters. I didn’t feel anything for them. I suspect this may be a combination of bad writing and bad directing. There was nothing new from Morgan Freeman although I know he is quite capable as an actor. Clint Eastwood’s character was predictable and I found Hilary Swank’s character annoying.

We ended up fast forwarding through part of the end and I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. I just didn’t care. I really don’t understand what all the hype was about. I mean, sure, there was a touching twist at the end, but to really be moved by that you had to be ignoring a lot of basic flaws with the movie.

The next movie I watch had better be a good one! That’s all I’m saying!

gah… pain… murp… bleck…

I have a headache this morning. I had it last night too and I kind of knew I’d still have it this morning. My friend and co-worker Steve gave me some Excedrin for tension headaches and, hopefully, it should kick in soon. Although, the tylenol I took last night didn’t do anything at all. I hate this. My eyes feel like they’re about to implode and my nose is running because it hurts so much. I keep trying to find cool things to put my throbbing head against. I can’t concentrate. Misery. Misery. Misery.

Update: But wait… what’s this??? I was temporarily distracted from this post and in that time the Excedrin took effect. I feel wonderful! I feel better than wonderful! I feel spectacular! Oh, what a great day! Yesss!

Birth Of A New Woman

Last night I finished reading Wifey by Judy Blume. The story takes place in suburban New York in 1970 and Sandy is tired of being a traditional, submissive wife. She married Norman and had two children mostly because she was expected to. She joined “The Club” and began taking tennis and golf lessons at her husband’s insistence. She takes care of the cooking and gives Norm “a little something” on Saturday nights, but she is haunted by the feeling that there should be more to life.

During the course of the story Sandy is sexually awakened and ends up sleeping with her brother-in-law, her best friend’s husband and an old flame. She believes that the old flame will leave his wife and marry her and is sorely disappointed when he suggests an arrangement rather than eternal love. Somewhere among this infidelity she contracts gonnorhea which precipitates a confrontation between her and her husband.

In the end Sandy is beginning to make assertive decisions and lines of communication are being opened between her and her husband. She is hopeful. I, however, am skeptical. I don’t believe that Norman bringing home a pizza instead of expecting Sandy to cook the day after he hit her and called her a whore is really much of a step forward. Sandy offering to shave her pubic hair to make oral sex more pleasurable to her husband just doesn’t seem like much to me. I didn’t feel like things had been sufficiently resolved in the end of the book. Even though things seemed to be pointed in the right direction it just didn’t seem to me that there was a good enough start.

This being said, I still enjoyed the book very much and was pleased to find that it made me think a bit about my own stances on marriage and monogamy.