Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Tragedy Done Right: Korean Cinema

When discussing works of tragedy in class yesterday, Dr. Sexson made a great argument that if you walk out of a theater and simply say "Now THAT was depressing!", then there is either something wrong with you or what you just saw. I immediately thought of three of my favorite films, which are all modern tragedies that are so utterly brilliant and devastating that I know that William Shakespeare would have given his seal of approval... and I can't recommend them enough.

These films are all part of The Vengeance Trilogy by Korean director Park Chan-wook, who said that Shakespeare is indeed a profound influence on his work. A trailer for each film...

Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. Don't let the Americanized movie trailer fool you. This film is at such a slow, wrenching pace that it literally makes your skin crawl. This one might be the most Lear-esque out of the trilogy--an absolutely devastating masterpiece.


Oldboy is easily one of the best films of the last decade, and might be one of the greatest films ever made. Period. Don't let anyone ruin the twist for you. It also happens to have one of the best fight scenes of all time, and a scene where a live squid is eaten whole (no joke).


Lady Vengeance. Perhaps the most emotionally disturbing of the three. Be forewarned, there is some really violent content involving children in this film. I also just realized that it's another version of the Demeter myth--mother and daughter reunited, even though the Lady Vengeance herself may not find peace. See it to see why!

All three of these are streaming on Netflix instant (though I think Oldboy is dubbed--AVOID IT), and if you want to see modern tragedy done in a highly entertaining, emotionally gut-wrenching, and utterly beautiful way then look no further than the Vengeance Trilogy.

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Gods Must Be Crazy (FINAL PAPER!)

Mything Shakespeare:
Shakespeare and Divine Visitation

The gift of rapturous love and the maddening sense of isolation ostensibly stem from the same source—that is, according to William Shakespeare. To trace the origins of any of Shakespeare’s characters’ consuming adoration of another, or descent into mental decay, one must only look to the gods and beings from the heavens that cause such sensations through their intervention. Myth pervades the works of Shakespeare, whose most enduring works of any genre overflow with allusions to the divine, however distant these allusions may be at times. The presence—or absence—of otherworldly beings has repercussions that prove pivotal to the fate of the characters in Shakespeare’s own mythology. Whereas divine visitation sets the stage for a strictly comedic resolution and inspiration, the absence or rejection of this godly presence typically results in characters meeting a tragic end.

Of the works studied this semester, the most striking example of divine presence as a unifying force in the universe of the play is found in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. While the initial setup of Hermia facing death if she does not choose a suitor to her father’s liking is one that bears tragic possibilities, the comedic conclusions reached are those of the will of Oberon, the fairy king. Taking place in a cross-section of the human world (Athens) and the land of fairies (the wood), the two interact in such a fashion that the divine forces manipulate the course of events to their liking. However, this otherworldly influence does not make itself known to the main players of the story. As explored in Northrop Frye on Shakespeare, the author explains that though Theseus, king of Athens, overrules the will of Hermia’s father, it is really Oberon and the other fairies who, through the magical orchestration of the two couples of young lovers, overrule the authority of the king (40).

Peter Quince, or Bottom, stands out amongst the cast of characters as the only person to have knowingly bridged this gap between the worlds of fairies and humans. An object of love and adoration for the fairy queen, Titania, Bottom emerges from the experience inspired and gives what Frye calls “one of the most extraordinary speeches in Shakespeare”. However lowly and unrefined his character is portrayed in the play in comparison to the lovers or the ruling class, his spirit is filled with a glowing perspective that Peter Quince describes as a dream—and a “bottomless” dream at that. The specific details of this dream are not definite, but Frye argues that he comes “closer to the centre of this wonderful and mysterious play than any other of its characters” (50). Unseen yet pervasive divine power, however chaotic, unifies the action of the play to a fitting, celebratory end.

Shakespeare’s pastoral comedy As You Like It is unique in that its inclusion of divine visitation is often omitted in performance due to the contrived nature of the occurrence. What began as a problematic play with feuding brothers, banishments, and betrayal ends in classic comedic fashion with the wedding of four couples. Hymen, the god of weddings, oversees this ceremony and ensures that separated family members are reunited and that all old sins amongst brothers are atoned. His presence is likewise a comedic, if arguably unnecessary, unifying plot point that enforces a comedic end.

This play also explores the notion of isolation from such godly forces. The character of Jaques in As You Like It gives a bleak speech that, as discussed in class lecture, depicts a world without myth. In Act II, Scene 7, his ponderings of the world as a stage and “the men and women merely players” walk through various phases in the life of men—ending with the individual living in “mere oblivion…sans everything.” This grim analysis of life betrays the comedic nature of the play, yet is remarkably telling when reflecting on Shakespeare’s more tragic works, in which the presence of the divine is absent.
The pre-Christian setting of King Lear is a barren landscape of gods and forces that the cast of characters does not understand. From the references to mythology throughout the play, it is apparent that the mindset amongst Lear and others is that of a deist mentality—that some form of a god is there, but does not interfere with matters of the earthly realm. According to Frye, it’s absolutely appropriate that this tragic story is pre-Christian, as the story behind Christianity is one of the salvation and redemption of man, which is comedic in its structure (102). Though no actual divine visitation occurs, there are suggestions of a detached influence. The world in King Lear is filled with “impotent or nonexistent gods” that present themselves as forces of Nature or fate (107). For example, the storm in Act III acts as a force of Nature that is representative of a sort of Old Testament “crossing of the Red Sea in reverse” (114). The vague, mysterious qualities of the otherworldly depicted in this tragedy yield only madness and despair as all characters meet a savage fate.

When taking into account the absence of the divine in King Lear, a similar tragic end occurs in Shakespeare’s narrative poem Venus and Adonis. In what Jonathan Crewe prefaces as “an ‘early’ representation of sexual harassment”, the love of Venus, the goddess of love, is rejected by the mortal Adonis (Pelican Shakespeare, 5). Borrowing heavily from Ovidian mythology, the epic poem resonates throughout the Shakespearean canon as what Dr. Sexson described as his “consuming myth”. The refusal of Adonis to become Venus’ lover speaks to a disparity between the love of the divine and the capability of humans to experience it. Adonis’ tragic slaughter by the boar in a hunting accident, while mourned by Venus, was nonetheless a result of his reluctance to embrace the divine love of the goddess—Shakespeare having implicated Venus in the death of the man (5).

The adage that man needs myth to survive is not a new one, and it is through the works of Shakespeare that we might come closer to understanding why these stories of the divine resonate so deeply. The rejection of such myth is commonplace in the current times, often disregarded as irrelevant. Yet if there’s one thing that can be learned from Shakespeare is that the inspiration from story and myth is a blessing that can be experienced by any one of us. In my mind, dismissing these divine gifts of the mind can’t be described as anything other than tragic.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Mighty Aphrodite

The group presentations are kicking off tomorrow, and the more I look at the play that I was assigned with my group, the more interested I am in it. Othello is awesome, folks. Really.

Some of this will probably make way in the presentation that we're giving, but some of the secondary criticism about Othello has brought a lot out of the play--more than the themes of race that has arguably given this play the longevity that it possesses. One of the more interesting points brought up in the text's intro by Russ McDonald in our big red tome (and also in a similar intro by Walter Cohen in a different edition) is the power of love.

Othello teeming with jealousy as Iago plants seeds of doubt and jealousy,
from the film version. Laurence Fishburne and Kenneth Branagh are amazing.


The real meat of this play and the downfall of the central tragic figure doesn't really revolve around political futures (as in King Lear or Hamlet, for example). What undoes the character of Othello is love and jealousy. The forces that motivate Iago to set this plot into motion may be rooted in selfish attempts for personal (and somewhat political) gain, but the power of that seed of envy and suspicion that he plants in Othello overtakes the man in an utterly all-consuming, complete fashion. The power of the love, or the goddess of love, be it Venus, Aphrodite, or any version of said goddess, is one that can cast anyone to the heavens or down into the depths of hell. It's an incredible portrait of an energy that is often only associated with the positive.

We've talked a lot about consuming myths in this class, and I never really thought I would find it in Othello. There's the drama, the deceit, and the passion that was promised, but I did not expect to find the Venus and Adonis myth transposed into this setting. Granted, it's a bit more displaced and further removed from mythology than many of the other plays we examined, but it nonetheless proved very interesting. It's always great when you have multiple lenses through which to view a timeless story.

Another Inane but Funny Post

The O.G. Big Willie.

Monday, April 11, 2011

The Lighter Side of "Othello"...

Note: this is a bit PG-13 rated, but a great satire of Othello.
Figured this wouldn't fly in the group presentation, but I needed the class to see it somehow!

Monday, April 4, 2011

Where To Begin?

The more I consider the assignment of a Shakespeare presentation, the harder it gets to brainstorm a topic. On one hand, Shakespeare is incredibly broad in scope that allows for just about any kind of exploration. However, what is there to say about his works that nobody else has said before? When you consider how the persistence of "myth" is also a big topic for discussion, that means a little bit more digging.

Consider this a stream of consciousness brainstorming blog. Here it goes...
  • Consuming myths--Shakespeare had them, his characters have them, and we all have them. Which consuming myth can I explore as it relates to the works we have studied in class?
  • The Green World--It isn't always as perfectly spelled out in his plays as it is in A Midsummer Night's Dream or the pastoral As You Like It, but the presence (or absence) of it always plays a part in the universe in which the characters live, even if not explicitly stated.
  • There always seems to be a fatal flaw that afflicts a mortal who is given blessings and grace from divine beings that makes them so close to perfection, and yet they experience an utterly complete demise that they remain just slightly out of arm's reach of such status. Some characters are looked upon favorably in a similar fashion by having great fortune, but experience a complete downfall (Arguably: Antony and/or Cleopatra, Othello, which I read in my group). I'm sure there's a word or phrase for this complex (if you know it, you can write it in the comment box!).
  • What happens when the divine beings cross over into the mortal world? (Consider: A Midsummer Night's Dream, As You Like It, Cymbeline) Also worth looking at--does the stark and bleak world of, say, King Lear, have anything to do with the fact that there are no gods that look favorably upon the players? (The line about the gods causing humans to suffer for sport)
  • The question of displaced myth--that's kind of all that I got for that one for some reason.
  • Stratification of people/gods and how it plays into Shakespeare.
More to come, let's hope?

Monday, March 28, 2011

Making Sense of Cymbeline

Good luck.

With the title of my blog, I don't mean to suggest that the play's action itself doesn't make sense... In fact, I'm amazed that I've never heard of this play before I took this class. I found the characters, the action, the dialogue, and the story itself to pack a big punch. Each character, even the villains, are given such incredible detail and nuance to their personality--many of the more tragic characters are redeemed in the end (thanks to Ashley Arcel for pointing that out so well in her blog entry). And, of course, since college-aged students love sexual innuendo, I have to say that the dialogue in this play is masterful and quite filthy. I didn't even need to look at the footnotes to tell that Cloten was a sick, perverted bastard!

I am not yet able to completely describe how Cymbeline makes sense in the grand scheme of Shakespeare's romances as far as its relation to the mythic, as I have not yet completed the rest of them. My initial impression of this romance, as it compares to some of Shakespeare's other very, very dark tragedies (especially King Lear) is that while they maintain a similar arc, the ending tends to share more in common with the present-day narrative in American films.

This doesn't apply to all works of the present day, but it seems as if audiences are willing to accept just about any insane, dark, twisted elements in a story so long as things turn out all right in the end. If a character has been through hell, then they better make it out alive. Not to disparage the end of Cymbeline as a "Hollywood ending" (even though everything fell completely into place quite conveniently), but the characters we know and love make it out just fine. By and large, I think it works. Perhaps if Cymbeline ended in a blood bath like King Lear or Hamlet, its reputation would be more prominent because of that (I have no way of knowing, just a hunch).

Based on my current impressions on Cymbeline, what seems out of place when trying to categorize it as more of a comedy versus a drama makes for an interesting product, nonetheless. It's amazing how much of a model this is for what we see as a standard for entertainment today. A problematic set-up where everything that can possibly go wrong does, and in the end the difficulties are reconciled in such a way that it doesn't feel too out of place. Graned, the god Jupiter makes an appearance, but it felt okay with me. After all, deus ex machina has become so common in today's popular culture that most non-English majors (and even plenty who are) could see one without even knowing it.

Next up: Pericles.