This month’s post is going to be somewhat shorter than usual because I find myself happily employed—as in, working for a salary—for the rest of the month of January. North Cross School recruited me to cover two sections of A.P. English Literature while the teacher is away, and I find myself delighted to be back in the classroom. North Cross is a wonderful community led by superb Head of School, and the seniors in these two sections of A.P. Lit are a hoot. So I’m spending time making lesson plans and sending out pep talks via email. I would advise anybody who wants a cure for the January blahs to do the same.
But let’s talk for a minute about the book I just finished, Judi Dench’s SHAKESPEARE: THE MAN WHO PAYS THE RENT. The whole book consists of transcripts of interviews with Dench conducted by fellow thespian Brendan O’Hea, with each chapter devoted to one of more of the roles played by Dench in a particular Shakespearean play. O’Hea asks good questions, and Dench answers them with wit, insight, and more than occasional bite. The result is a series of master classes with a theatrical legend. My favorite chapter was the one on THE COMEDY OF ERRORS, wherein Dench talks about a particular production with additional musical numbers performed and filmed by the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1976. I could find the complete production on YouTube, and so I had the fun of reading Dench’s commentary while watching a smashing production of a challenging play directed, in this instance, by Trevor Nunn. The cast includes Roger Rees, Francesca Annis, Richard Griffiths, and Michael Williams (Dench’s husband). Fifty years ago the RSC was the best in the business of performing classical theater, and this glimpse into that golden era, narrated by one of its stars, was almost like being backstage.
The other writer I want to mention this month is Billy Wilder, who with his writing partners (particularly I.A.L. Diamond) gave us some of Hollywood’s best and most lasting treasures. Just recently I re-watched SABRINA, STALAG-17, and SOME LIKE IT HOT, all so different, all so good. But on New Year’s Eve, Turner Classic Movies gave the prime 8:00 p.m. spot to THE APARTMENT, which I recorded and watched a couple of days later. The hosts for the evening declared that it was a perfect movie, and I have to agree. I first saw it in 1960, when I was nine years old, and my mother and aunt took me and my cousin to the Grandin Theater to see what the newspapers advertised as a riotous comedy. I can still remember how appalled my mother and her sister were after the show was over and they faced so many questions about marital infidelity, attempted suicide, and seedy office politics. My memory of the movie was that it was boring and not funny. But now I admire so much the feminist sympathies, the corporate satire, the artistry that went into constructing the seamless plot, and the performances by all concerned, particularly Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine, and Fred McMurray. All three had careers that showcased their astonishing range, and here, captured so young and so gifted, they inhabit Billy Wilder’s vision and give us a movie that ends on New Year’s Eve with a literal bang.