I was of two minds going into this week. I was looking forward to a break from all the MURTHER, but also I’ve historically been intimidated by Shakespeare’s comedies. They tend to include a lot of colloquialisms and references to “current” events that fall flat unless you’ve had a trip in the TARDIS recently (I wish).
After delving into the lightest bit of research before my usual act-by-act readings, I felt better. The Comedy of Errors is the shortest of all the plays (four out of five of the acts has only two scenes) and it’s brisk and silly. It is based on Plautus’ crowd-pleaser, Menaechmi. I read a translation of this “classic” considered to be one of Plautus’ “best” and it reads like the transcript of a vaudeville shtick put on by the guests of an episode of Jerry Springer. It’s full of drinking, carousing, low-brow sex humour, and it literally ends with the lying, cheating husband auctioning off his own wife so he can move in with his brother.
(Side-note: Plautus’ characters use “Pollux” as a curse word throughout, and he just happens to be the twin brother of Castor in greek mythology, and they were the gods of boxing, and it sounds like they’re saying “Bollocks” so LMAO)
Now William--my dear, sweet William--thankfully doubles (quadruples?) our pleasure with two sets of twins AND adds some pathos and a touch of romance, for the sake of more sophisticated slapstick fun times. After reviewing the source material, I see why some scholars believe Errors is perhaps better categorized as a farce and not a comedy. It is quite absurdist, even with the great Bard’s additions.
We meet Egeon of Syracuse (a lowly merchant), who is in the process of being arrested by the Duke of Ephesus for daring to step foot in this town due to some unspecified feud between Ephesus and Syracuse. Egeon tearfully outlines the circumstances of his visit: he was long ago separated from his wife and one of his twin sons by a storm at sea, and now that his son has grown and is insisting on finding the other half of their family, Egeon has been searching around the Mediterranean for five years to no avail. The Duke is deeply moved by Egeon’s tale and says “If you pay me 1000 marks in 24 hours, I won’t kill you.”
Way to start a COMEDY, Billy. The party hasn’t even started and already we have to hear Egeon’s buzzkill lifestory. He presents his plea to the Duke in touching verse, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn it was the beginning of a Greek tragedy. I just spent the year of January slogging through a bloody civil war full of overpriviledged English people and now this.
Thank the Universe that Egeon’s twin son Antipholus (of Syracuse) shows up with his bondsman Dromio (who is also a twin) to do some mercantile shit. He sends his Dromio to drop off 1000 marks to his hotel room. Antipholus is undercover, because his merchant friend tells him about the blood feud. He’s really visiting because he is also in search of his long lost brother and mother. Like his father, he’s very emo about it.
I to the world am like a drop of water,
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
(Unseen, inquisitive), confounds himself.
So I, to find a mother and a brother,
In quest of them (unhappy), ah, lose myself
SAD FACE. But then Dromio (of Ephesus) wanders over and tells Antipholus S that he’s late to dinner and he has no idea where his 1000 marks are. This earns him a beating. Thus begins this Punch-and-Judy show of a play.
Adriana, wife of Antipholus (of Ephesus), is having a bitch sesh with her sister Luciana about how her husband is always late to dinner and he’s probably cheating on her and how dare he. Luciana just smiles and shakes her head and says that men are in charge of everything (UGH) and that Adriana should just chill out. Adriana snaps back with “Oh but you’ll change your tune whenever you get married and get treated this way!” and Luciana says “Pfft, I ain’t never gettin’ married.”
Antipholus S and Dromio S are walking down the street and Adriana and Luciana spot them. The ladies immediately accuse Dromio of not doing his job of fetching Antipholus to dinner. Totally confused, Antipholus and Dromio follow the women home anyway because hey, they might be witches and they’re afraid of crossing them.
Cut to Antipholus (of Ephesus--why oh why give your twins the same name?) hanging with his buddies Balthazar and Angelo. Antipholus convinces them to cover his ass about being late to dinner just when Dromio E shows up and asks him why he beat him up before. They show up at Antipholus E’s house and try to enter, but Dromio S, Adriana, and Luce (the maid) all deny them, because, hello, the lord and servant of the house are already home. Balthazar tells Antipholus to just dine elsewhere and of course they decide to go to the Courtezan’s home out of spite.
Inside Antipholus E's house, Luciana is trying to convince Antipholus S to at least pretend he loves Adriana and stop hitting on her, Luciana. He waxes poetical about how he is out of his mind and hopes that love will fix everything. Luciana blinks bemusedly and leaves the room. Dromio S comes in and explains how the kitchen wench he just met swears they’re an iem. He describes the woman, having a laugh with Antipholus regarding her rotund figure and hideous visage. Comparing her to a globe, Antipholus asks where certain regions are and Dromio hilariously answers by taking the piss out of several countries very relevant to England at the time.
ANTIPHOLUS S
In what part of her body stands Ireland?
DROMIO S
Marry, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs.
ANTIPHOLUS S
Where Scotland?
DROMIO S
I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand.
ANTIPHOLUS S
Where France?
DROMIO S
In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war
against her heir.
ANTIPHOLUS S
Where England?
DROMIO S
I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no
whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin,
by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.
ANTIPHOLUS S
Where Spain?
DROMIO S
Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.
ANTIPHOLUS S
Where America, the Indies?
DROMIO S
Oh, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellished with
rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich
aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole
armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose.
ANTIPHOLUS S
Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?
DROMIO S
Oh, sir, I did not look so low.
I bet that brought down The Globe.
Antipholus S decides that they’ve had enough of this witchcraft and they plan to pack up and skedaddle. Angelo finds Antipholus S in the street and offers him the gold chain he had ordered 20 times for his wife (or Courtezan). Antipholus CANNOT anymore and just goes with it. “I see a man here needs not live by shifts, When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.” Strange town indeed!
Antipholus E sends Dromio E to get a rope for whipping the servants at his house who won’t let him inside. Angelo strides up asking for his money for the chain he gave him and Antipholus E says his wife has the money and that she’ll give him them money when Angelo gives her the chain (which he gave to Antipholus S), so Angelo asks for the chain and of course Antipholus E says he’s nuts and Angelo calls over an officer to arrest him. Dromio S shows up to tell his master that there’s a boat awaiting them for departure and Antipholus E yells and orders him to go to Adriana for bail money.
Dromio S runs to the house and asks Adriana for the money her husband needs for bail. He runs back and is surprised to find Antipholus S free from arrest and he offers him the bail money he didn’t ask for and Antipholus gets mad when Dromio S insists he already told him about the ship. The Courtezan shows up and wants the chain Antipholus S has according to their bargain and they think she’s a witch. The Courtezan thinks Antipholus is properly bonkers and goes to tell Adriana and get a doctor.
Dromio E brings a rope to Antipholus E and promptly receives a beating for not bringing bail money. Adriana, Luciana, the Courtezan, and the schoolmaster Pinch show up and try to figure out why Antipholus is batshit. Antipholus and Dromio explain what they’ve been through the last few hours, which just makes the women think they’re even more batshit and they tie them both up and head out. Suddenly Antipholus S and Dromio S leap in with swords drawn, scaring the bejesus out of the group, who believe the men they just tied up have miraculously escaped.
Antipholus S and his Dromio get in a fight with Angelo over the chain and the money owed and when the ladies arrive, Antipholus and Dromio duck into an abbey. Despite Adriana’s protests, the Abbess refuses to allow the women to enter and take the men out of sanctuary. Some shit is about to go down right when the Duke of Ephesus and Egeon walk by on the way to Egeon’s execution. Adriana pleads with the Duke to force the Abbess to release the men inside. Antipholus E and his Dromio appear and everyone does a double-take. Egeon swears he knows them, then the Abbess comes out with the Syracusian Antipholus and Dromio and the Abbess recognizes Egeon as her husband. Everyone is excited and the Duke pardons Egeon so he can finally be with his whole family again. The Dromios joke with each other about who looks older and politely walk offstage together and everything is fine.
I liked that BBC production of Errors I saw on Prime took Egeon’s lengthy backstory as an opportunity to conduct a traditional “dumbshow” of events leading up to the present. Dumbshows--dramatic mime meant to summarize plots or actions within plays--came into use in 16th-century English drama but were going out of fashion by Shakespeare’s day. Hamlet famously employed dumbshow preceding the “Mousetrap” play Hamlet puts on for the court.
Hundreds of years later, dumbshow was the primary means of portraying drama in the silent films of the early 1900s. Ultimately, Errors is the ancient ancestor of everything ever produced by Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton. The Great Dictator (1940), with Chaplin’s measured use of the mistaken twins trope, is a masterful modern-day example of the power of the absurd honed and perfected by old Billy Shakes.
So this play turned out to be a nice palate cleanser, but I'm most excited for next week's dive back into ultimate gore and revenge, the wildly popular Titus Andronicus. Hang on to your hands!
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