Two plays, both alike in dignity

Shakespeare in the Park is one of my favorite New York institutions. Mostly because it's free theater, and I work in children's book publishing. But also because it's outside with a stage overlooking a lake and the productions are, without exception, fabulous. Normally, it can be a bit difficult to get tickets, but this year there were no Al Pacino's to speak of, so it was a (relative) breeze. In fact, the only person in the cast who looked even vaguely familiar appeared in such films as Confessions of a Shopaholic and The Happening. She also (according to imdb) had a bit part in Revolutionary Road, which must be why I recognized her. I think she was the secretary that Leonardo Dicaprio cheats on his wife with...but I'd have to watch that movie again to be sure, and nothing could induce me to plan a repeat viewing of that movie.

But at any rate, due to the relative ease of procuring tickets, I actually went to both shows this year, which naturally led to my comparing the two. I thought the productions of Measure for Measure and All's Well that Ends Well were both good, but preferred the latter. But beyond the notes on each director's approach to the material (MfM was kept in Renaissance Italy, while the director of AWTEW transported the action to WWII era Europe), I also couldn't help but compare the two plays themselves. Seeing them relatively close together causes me to note how similar the two are, although perhaps many of the conventions I noticed are true of most Shakespeare comedies, and I just don't usually watch them in such quick succession.

This photo isn't from the production I saw. You can't take pictures at Shakespeare in the Park. In fact, there is an army of Public Theater volunteers whose whole job (as far as I can tell) is to scan for photo takers and then stand over them menacingly while they delete the photo they just took. I fear and respect them too much to try anything.

Both plays were written about a year apart, and both run the farcical gamut from clever to ridiculous. Both involve the convention of the "bed-trick" (seldom seen outside of Shakespeare comedies, 18th-century French farces, and daytime soap operas) in which the man is seduced and convinced he is sleeping with one woman, when another woman takes her place in the dark. Also, in both cases, the woman who tricks the man into sleeping with her is a scorned ex-fiancee/wife. There was also a great similarity in dialogue between the two plays, which again is probably true of all the comedies. The strings of insults between the character of the sharp-tongued older gentleman and the foppish cad could be lifted from either play, and I doubt even the savviest of Shakespeare scholars could tell the difference. Also, both plays have a strong female lead who drives the action by having to respond to the ridiculous scenarios laid out by men--one because she must prostitute herself to save her brother's life when ironically he is to be executed for the crime of fornication, and the other because her husband refuses to sleep with her until she is pregnant with his child. Oh the hijinks!

At first I thought it odd that they would put two such similar comedies playing concurrently, but then it does seem like they play nicely off each other. Anyway, if any of my readers are currently in New York and looking for a good (and free) time, you should definitely check out Shakespeare in the Park during the final week of it's run. If for nothing else, then to enjoy the fact that the line for tickets is actually less than the line at Shake Shack these days.

If you give it away, they will come

Summer in New York means the shedding of drab winter coats for brightly colored sundresses and (for some) underwear-length shorts, a nightly soundtrack of people laughing at sidewalk cafes and the tuneful jingle of the Mr. Softee truck outside my window, summer Friday beach and camping trips, and (in the case of this summer) 101 degree heat waves. It also means a seemingly endless array of free entertainments throughout the city. Every park has a list of popular movies to show and/or a selection of concerts and dance performances. There are street fairs and firework shows aplenty. On the one hand, this is all wonderful, and I enjoy the plethora of free summer events as often as possible. But on the other hand: so do everyone else.

Not surprisingly, I am not the only city dweller, or human for that matter, who enjoys some good bargain entertainment with my warm weather. Unfortunatley, due to the sheer volume of people here, most of these "free" activities get paid for in either time committment or willingness to subject oneself to physical discomfort. On the Fourth of July, I ended up waiting over an hour in line in the hot sun for the free ferry to Governor's Island for a free She and Him concert.

Likewise, the movies in the park always seem like a good idea, but in reality you have to get there at 5:00 to get a decent spot on the lawn. Then it doesn't get dark until 9, at which point you've been drinking wine and picnicing for so long that you almost have no choice but to pass out during the actual movie. This happened last year to me during Close Encounters of the Third Kind, although I can't say I regret it. Similarly, the free philharmonic concert I went to in Central Park last year caused me to sit so far back that seeing the stage was difficult, much less hearing any sound from it. It was not a great venue for hearing talented musicians, but, as it turns out, it was a surprisingly great venue for listening to frat guys and Wall Street interns (a nominal distinction) wax nostalgic about how great beer is.

And then there is perhaps the most elusive of all free New York performances: Shakespeare in the Park. I was able to go last year after sticking it out in the standby line, and it was a lot of fun. This year, however, the performance of The Merchant of Venice received a glowing review and contains Al Pacino (whose fan base is apparently incredibly loyal). Tickets for each day's performance are handed out a 1:00 PM. Normally, I can't spend my day waiting in line (the eternal curse of the 9-5), but on Monday, as I had the day off, it seemed like a good time to try my luck. I got to the line at 8:00 in the morning, armed with a deck of cards, a blanket, a book, and feeling pretty proud of myself. Any smugness was dashed after following the mile long line to its conclusion. The people at the front of the line were passed out on air mattresses. After waiting less than half an hour, a kindly employee of the Public Theater informed us that while they couldn't force us to leave, there was no possible way we were getting tickets that far back. Someone asked how early the people who had a shot of getting tickets had gotten there. The answer: 5:30 in the morning. And really, I don't even like The Merchant of Venice that much.

Worth spending 8 hours of my life in 100 degree heat for?

After leaving the line, I went to the Guggenheim so that coming into Manhattan on my day off at 8:00 in the morning wouldn't be a total bust. I got there right when it was opening and the line was minimal. It was incredibly refreshing to wait in a short line, knowing that for the simple price of $15, we would be guaranteed admission to wander the musuem for as long as we liked. I do love living in a city that has so many wonderful cultural events for free. But sometimes it's nice to have some personal space or to not wake up in the middle of the night to camp outside of Central Park on air mattresses. And you just can't put a price on that.