::Await obligatory ‘Hi, Dr. Nick!’ callback.::
My name is Keith Hock and I am the production manager and technical director for your favorite Capitol Fringe company, We Happy Few Productions! We’re about halfway through the rehearsal process for our upcoming presentation of The Winter’s Tale, and while our Periscope videos (accessible through twitter, if you follow us) have done a great job of introducing you to the creative process behind the making of the show, they haven’t really delved too deeply into what this show is and why we would choose to do it. So at our last production meeting I
drew the short straw and got roped into willingly and totally without coercion volunteered to put together a brief breakdown of how The Winter’s Tale fits into Shakespeare’s bibliography and our own ethos.
The shows that We Happy Few has done, to date, have been Hamlet, The Tempest, Romeo & Juliet, The Duchess of Malfi and, soon, The Winter’s Tale. Of these plays, three are classified as Tragedies; Hamlet, Romeo & Juliet, and The Duchess of Malfi, and the other two as Romances (Duchess is anomalous in this list because it was written by Webster, not Shakespeare, but you would be hard-pressed to find a more tragic play than The Duchess of Malfi. For more information about THAT show please look back into our archives and read the posts by my blogging predecessor, the inimitable Alan Katz). When we began our career with Hamlet we established our love of tragedies, the darker and more brooding the better; this led us in turn to the hormone-laden blood feud of Romeo & Juliet and the old-school revenge tragedy of The Duchess of Malfi (fun fact: revenge tragedies are also known as Tragedies of Blood! This should come as no surprise to anyone who saw Duchess last summer). So how do we reconcile the blood and hate of these tragedies with what you suspect to be the tedious, cloying will-they/won’t-they love story that the name “Romance” suggests?
Fortunately for us, unless you were hoping for a sappy rom-com story (in which case, get the hell off my blog), the term “Romance” in this context does not imply what we generally think of as romantic; the closest Shakespeare comes to modern rom-com style love stories are his Comedies, named so not because they’re funny (although they are) but because they end well and leave the audience feeling happy; they also deal with love stories and almost exclusively end with AT LEAST one marriage. Historically the Romances were grouped into either the Tragedies or Comedies more or less at the whims of their readers; The Tempest and The Winter’s Tale were classified as Comedies while Cymbeline and Pericles were classified as Tragedies. These do not precisely fit for either category; while there is blood and death to be had in both Pericles and Cymbeline, both title characters make it out of the play alive, a major no-no for Tragedies, and neither of them are brought low by some character flaw. Likewise, there are love stories in both The Tempest and The Winter’s Tale, as well as Cymbeline and Pericles for that matter, but in neither of them are they the focus of the plot. So these four Romance plays do not share the traditional markings of either Shakespeare’s Tragedies OR Comedies (or the Histories, for the completionists out there).
What they DO share is a remarkable similarity to each other. All of these plays heavily feature the relationship between a single father and daughter. They all feature families that have been separated. Those separations all involve either betrayal, a body of water, or both. In every case these father figures (Pericles, Prospero, Cymbeline, and Leontes) have made some serious error in judgement that led to their separation from their family, and have some noble friend and ally who remained loyal to them, usually without their knowledge. They all involve a substantial leap forward in time in the story. They each end with a reconciliation and reunification of the separated families, as the protagonist learns the mistake he has made and atones for it.
And, most significantly from the We Happy Few perspective, they all have explicit moments of magic. Whether that magic is Prospero calling the storm at the beginning of The Tempest, Jupiter, King of the Gods, delivering a letter to Posthumus in prison in Cymbeline, fire from the heavens consuming Antioch at the end of Pericles, or …well, I wouldn’t want to spoil the ending of OUR play before you came to see it, but believe me when I tell you that magic and mystery abound in the Romances. As our faithful viewers should recall from previous productions, We Happy Few thrives on discovering the magical and mysterious. Beginning with Hamlet’s madness as he watches his friends transform into his enemies before his eyes, through Juliet’s attempt to escape imprisonment in a literal man’s world, and ending with the phantom vengeance of the Duchess of Malfi on her treacherous brothers, We Happy Few has always found and brought out the magic in our plays. It should come as no surprise that we would choose to do another Romance so soon. Far from not fitting into the traditional WHF model, The Winter’s Tale may be the closest we’ve come to our ethos since Hamlet.