An Afternoon of Woe

I sold Eliza down the river for history and tragedy.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see the 50th anniversary restored print of "My Fair Lady," I did, but I couldn't justify passing up the funniest park ranger ever or an abridged teenage love story for it.

And, just for the record, I did see a movie (several, actually), improbably enough of the Civil War.

Ranger Mike Gorman - one part photography geek, one part dedicated historian and one part stand-up comedian - was giving a talk and slide show entitled "Richmond, 1865." If, like me, you'd attended "Richmond, 1864," you knew there was no funnier or more informative way to spend an hour without alcohol.

What I love about his presentations is that he does all the work while the audience reaps all the fascinating results.

Leading us on a virtual tour of the city using photographs, he zooms in, blows up and points out minute details an amateur like me would never notice otherwise.

So he's showing us a picture of the laboratory buildings on Belle Isle (and by laboratory, he means girls and women stuffing gun powder in things to be shot) and then zooms in on the far distance where we can clearly see Monroe's tomb in Hollywood Cemetery a mile away.

Like a twisted scientist, he says thing like, "Look, I'll blow that up again. Because I can," and then gives an evil chuckle. Hilarious. Or, about staging photographs back then, "They faked a shot? Of course they did!"

But I also learn so much at his talks, like when he showed us the Gallego flour mills, the largest in the world at the time, and shares that they were 15 stories high in an era when reinforced steel was unknown. Or a photograph of Union graves on Belle Isle when I'd had no clue that had ever been the case.

It wouldn't be a Gorman talk without the picture of NDH - that's "nasty, dead horse" for Gorman virgins - floating in the canal, which he turns into a "movie" by combining it with another view of NDH.

Shots of Lee once he returned to Richmond were taken behind his house on the day Lincoln died and intended to send a message that the war was over.Time to move on, rebels.

One seated shot exposed what Gorman called a "big male no-no," white socks with black shoes. Scratched on the negative was "do not use" because fashion faux pas don't become a losing general apparently. Showing a detail of a standing shot, he showed us graffiti on Lee's house: the word "devil" scratched on a brick behind him.

See? Richmond's tagging problem can't be blamed on VCU students. It goes back to the Civil War.

The presentation ended on a particularly amusing shot of ships in the river, which, once he blew up a detail, showed a man standing naked in the water. "Expose yourself to history," Mike had written across the man's twigs and berries.

With pleasure, as long as it's history cheerleader Mike Gorman doing the exposing.

My exposure to literature, which followed, wasn't nearly as amusing, but it was awfully succinct.

Quill Theater had invited the public to come watch their final dress rehearsal of their 55-minute, six actor touring production of "Romeo and Juliet" at Shafer Street Playhouse.

I don't think I could have invented a good enough reason not to watch love's heavy burden sink a couple of teenagers.

Bonus: I can't help but appreciate a production of "Romeo and Juliet" where the actors playing the leads seem young enough to be believable.

And it never hurts a tragedy to have its light moments courtesy of John Mincks playing a woman, in this case, Juliet's nurse (the cap alone was pure gold). Or, especially for middle and high school audiences, the superb diction of someone like David Janosik or Audra Honaker playing so many roles and making the language accessible to all.

Although I'm far from the target audience for this kind of production - feel free to use every last word of Shakespeare's text and I promise I won't get bored if it's well acted - it was fun watching the classic story unfold in record time.

"The Compleat Works of Wm. Shakespeare, Abridged" aside, the only briefer Shakespeare I ever saw was an acting class' ten-minute version of "Hamlet" that had the audience in hysterics when the Queen said, "I am poisoned," and tossed her cup to the floor pronto.

But today's "Romeo and Juliet" did accomplish one lovely thing and that was deliver nearly an hour of talented actors reciting some of the most romantic lines in the English language.

Oh, she teaches the torches to burn bright.

And no amount of dancing all night can compare to that.

I Love Long Life Better Than Figs

Bootleg: to make, distribute or sell illicit goods. Origin: late 19th century, from the smugglers' practice of concealing bottles in their boots.

Bootleg Shakespeare: annual production whereby actors learn their lines separately and only come together for one night to stage Shakespeare without rehearsal.

Scene: VMFA for the first time, meaning that instead of standing outdoors on a nasty evening to wait in line for tickets, would-be attendees waited in the comfort of heat and art.

I could get used to this.

Once tickets were handed out, everyone beat feet to Best Cafe to wine and dine until showtime. Both Pru and I opted for steaming bowls of beef stew and bread, the better to ward off the chill from tonight's wind and rain.

We joined George and Jo, two strangers who'd been in line behind us, at their table to eat and listen to Bardship Enterprise, an aptly named quartet playing music (Prince, Jackson 5, Bob Marley, Sublime) for our listening pleasure.

Between songs, George, a security guard at the museum, regaled us with tales of drunken debauchery during corporate parties and weddings at the museum. Imagine a couple pitching woo on the Rockefeller bed and you get an idea of the nerve exhibited while on state property.

It was only during our chit-chat that I learned that tonight we turn the clocks back. Woo-hoo, after the week I've had, I could sure use an extra hour.

Then it was on to the Leslie Cheek theater for "Antony and Cleopatra" directed by local favorite Foster Solomon.

"Twelve hours ago, this production did not exist," he explained from the stage. "If you know 'Antony and Cleopatra," you're going to be surprised. If you don't know 'Antony and Cleopatra," you're going to be surprised."

Sounded like a win/win to me.

The play opened with "As Time Goes By" performed by the show band onstage which went on to feature the vocal stylings of Rebecca Anne Muhleman in a bright red wig and Jacqueline O'Connor in a sassy blond wig on vocals doing Lady Gaga and Beyonce.

My full heart remains in use with you.

The always compelling (and quick) Joe Carlson played Antony, getting big laughs with lines such as, "Look here at this imaginary letter" and pulling out nothing.

The world and my great office will sometimes divide me from your bosom.

When he said that line, he stared directly into Octavia, his future wife's, chest.

Octavia is of a holy, cold and still conversation.

Of the 33 actors involved, I recognized many of them. I'm an unabashed fan of David Janosik who played Caesar for his diction and timing, Billy Christopher Maupin who played a white-faced soothsayer for his facility with language and comedic detail, and Kerry McGee for her elastic face and descriptive gestures.

And we are women's men.

I never tire of watching the nuances of an Adam Mincks character, Dean Knight can convey more with a glance or downturn of his mouth than some actors can with entire monologues and Dixon Cashwell was born to play a saucy eunuch.

During the big fight scene in Act II, a screen showed everything from Monty Python to space battles, while the real cast used plastic swords and pillows to fight onstage.

You knew very well that my heart was tied to your ship and that you would pull me along with you.

The delight of a bootleg performance is that even when you're watching a tragedy, humor bubbles up throughout, whether it's an actor calling for his line (and often making a joke of it in the process), missed cues ("Enter Caesar...Caesar?") or improvisation ("Trust no one with Caesar except that guy with the "P" name").

By the end, the lovers were dead and even Caesar had to soften a little acknowledging their love of each other, but not before the inimitable Susan Sanford had the audience in stitches as the asp supplier with a thick Scottish brogue. Hilarious.

After the cast took a well-deserved bow or two, Pru and I walked out discussing how the Bootleg Shakespeare production is always top-notch despite the lack of rehearsals and reliably funny because of the lack of rehearsals.

It was enough to make me drop everything I had in my wallet into the bucket on my way out.

And then, just because I'd found out we had an extra hour, we headed to the Sporty to hear our favorite '80s cover band who tonight were all about some southern rock.

Turning away from the bar after procuring my 1800, a guy asked me to dance before I'd even had a sip or found a place to roost. Sorry, sir, not yet.

Sipping and listening to the band, I exercised my best conversation, which was neither holy, cold or still.

Octavia, I'm not. All about bootleg and '80s covers, I absolutely am.

May the Bard Be with You

Last time, it was for brisket. Tonight, iambic pentameter.

Tonight the Weinstein JCC lured me in, not for food but because they were hosting HenShakes' one night production of "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Abridged. Revised."

Abridged so we weren't there until our butts fell off. Revised so they could insert topical humor and current references.

Meaning an evening for the intellectually flaccid of 37 plays in 97 minutes by three of Richmond's finest actors: John Mincks, Evan Nasteff and David Janosik, with a whole lot of fake vomiting, sexual references and dramatic dying going on.

Because, you know, all the world's a stage.

They began with a stripped down version of "Romeo and Juliet" that had Romeo saying, "I wanna kiss you, dude" and Juliet waxing poetic with, "That which we call a nose would still smell."

When Romeo begins to muse, saying, "Call me but love," Juliet interrupts with, "Did you call me Butt Love?" Naturally this becomes her new term of endearment, as in, "Parting is such sweet sorrow, Butt Love."

While the three energetic actors spent a whopping twelve minutes on "Romeo and Juliet," they went much briefer on the primitive revenge drama, "Titus Andronicus," which they managed to turn into a cooking show because after a long day of killing, severing and cannibalizing, who really feels like cooking?

Hilarious.

Moving on, the trio discussed whether they should do "Othello" in black face ("Do you want to piss off Tyler Perry?" pause "Kind of"), finally deciding to don sunglasses and rap it while throwing gang signs.

Seeing that time was ticking, they chose to condense all Shakespeare's comedies into one with hysterical results.

David, easily the largest of the three actors, took all the female roles throughout the evening, including the heroine for the mass comedy.

In a blond wig and skirt, he used his most lilting voice to say, "Oh, Father! I am so young and pubescent on this island," as he skipped around the stage.

But in Shakespeare's plays, girls always pretend to be boys and when he/she comes on to our hero, he responds to her as if she's a he. "I swingeth  not that way, boy!" Poor thing, she never realizes she's bi-curious.

Macbeth required the trio to don plaid knickers and adopt thick Scottish accents (very well executed, too), funny enough but the dialog was even better.

I was from my mother's womb untimely ripped.
I support a woman's right to choose.

"Julius Cesar" lasted about 60 seconds before someone decreed, "On to my play," and "Antony and Cleopatra" got underway.

There was another onstage discussion, this time about the lost play "Two Mobile Kinsmen," except not really. That turned out to be "Two Noble Kinsman," one of the plays that is neither comedy, tragedy or history. An obscure play.

The only one of these the trio deemed worth doing was "Troilus and Cressida" because, as Evan said, "It's not crap at all."

He read a synopsis off his phone while David and John did an interpretive dance of the plot that involved wings and getting between Evan's legs.

"Richard II" and "Richard III" were done as a football game, with each taking a turn as the announcer, often sounding a lot like Howard Cosell, and saying things like, "Poisoned on the ten yard line."

There was a penalty for "fictional character on the field" when King Lear put in an appearance and he was disqualified.

They ended with a cheer, yelling, "Henry V, Richard the third, the whole royal family is fricking absurd. Go sports team!"

By now all three were looking pretty sweaty after countless costume changes, much running in and out of the audience and more sword fighting and death scenes than I could keep track of.

As if I was trying. It was enough just to keep up with the rapid fire dialog and shenanigans of the actors.

Then they realized that they still had "Hamlet" to do ("Oh, crap, Hamlet!") and John asks for a summary of it.

"A young prince struggles with his conscience after his uncle kills his Dad." Evan looks at him like he's crazy. "Dude, that's the "Lion King."

Wait a minute...

That's when intermission kicked in but afterwards only John returned. He tried to stall by showing us an index card with all 152 of Shakespeare's sonnets on it, saying Even had told him he couldn't cover them all.

He laid the card on the stage, and laid his hat over it. Covered, done.

The entire second act was given over to "Hamlet" with Horatio being called fellatio and "To sleep, perchance to dream" devolving into, "To sleep, perchance to nap, perchance to snooze, perchance to doze."

During Evan's important "to be or not to be" speech, he broke down about a dilemma on "Full House," a show her admits he's currently watching in reruns.

But it's when David does Hamlet's "Man delights me not" soliloquy that you could have heard a pin drop in the room, his voice and perfect diction feeding the soul of every Shakespeare lover in the room.

A volunteer was plucked from the audience (and called Bob despite her name being Julia) to do the screaming of Ophelia's id, but the audience was soon asked to join her in a group scream-a-thon.

Of course, David played Ophelia and to play her drowning scene, threw a cup of water in his face.

As you may already know, all did not end well there, either. That's why they call it a tragedy.

Just when the last of Shakespeare's plays had ended, the actors got even sillier.

First they did a two minute version of "Hamlet." Then a 30 second version.

Then, perhaps most brilliantly, a backwards version, with the classic line, "Be to not or be to?"

Moving backwards, undying and, yes, Ophelia spitting water out of her mouth to un-drown.

"You thank!" they yelled to the standing ovation the audience gave them.

Effort fine damn, gentlemen. Truly one for the books.

Abridged and revised. I definitely swingeth that way.

Upon a Midnight Pillow

It was exactly as I liked it.

A talented group of actors were putting on a Shakespeare play at Sycamore Rouge in Petersburg.

The room was small, the admission was free and none of the actors knew what play or role they'd have until they showed up at the theater.

Hell, the audience didn't even find out until 60 seconds before the play began.

Answer: "As You Like It," which I'd last seen in March of 2012.

Three of us drove down soul-sucking I-95 in time to get seats, but not all together.

And that's why we have discussions after the play is over.

What passions put these weights upon my tongue?

There were plenty of contemporary touches - a servant taking pictures with his cell phone, two ladies repeatedly high-fiving each other- and plenty of ad-libbing.

"He's an old one," quipped Orlando as his ancient servant Adam slowly trundled off stage. "He needs time."

Costumes were based on suggestions from the director, Adam Mincks, so we saw one character in shiny, yellow gym shorts with a matching headband, another with sideburns attached to the chin strap on his hat and a priest in a robe that looked more like a dress your aunt wore in the '70s.

Beauty provokes thieves sooner than gold.

There was a good amount of singing, sometimes to "Greensleeves" and sometimes to the theme from "Gilligan's Island" with a last minute ad-lib of "Mary Ann was hot" for those paying attention.

If I was a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me.

The play was funny because, well, Shakespeare wrote comedy well, but also because the actors took every opportunity to milk their lines for everything they could.

And why shouldn't they?

If you can't mug for a devoted Shakespeare-loving audience on a Saturday night, you may as well hang up your couplets.

I was just thrilled to sit in the front row and watch the spit fly. And for free.

Fortune reigns in gifts of the world. True story.