THIS:

This week's podcast concludes our month-long discussion of The Merry Wives of Windsor with a little discussion of the play, a production concept, and a cast. And then some final words... well, maybe not FINAL final... but final for now...

But first some history.

When I started this blog, I worked from home. No commute. A firm commitment to code only 8 hours a day. Lots of time to read then write.

Then last year, I lost my job. Even more time to read and write (and write a novel, too).

Back in December, a new job found me. The commute now sucked about an hour and a half total from my day, and I was able to squeak by with the reading and writing.

Now, however, my responsibilities at work have grown, my hours have grown, and my time (for reading, for writing, for family, for cooking, hell, for ANYthing) has shrunk.

Shrunk.

To.

Nothing.

And while I can rationalize and say that's OK this month, what with the seemingly disposable Merry Wives, I can't half-ass it next month, not with the classic and beloved As You Like It in the wings.

So what's a poor boy to do?

So, that's why I'm going on another hiatus.

Sorry, troops. Gotta make money (you know, the filthy lucre that ...

I'll explain more later... nothing bad (except for the lack of time to write).

This week's podcast continues our month-long discussion of The Merry Wives of Windsor with reviews of two versions of the play available on DVD, as well as a related work. Then, we'll finish up with our usual recap of this week's blog entries.

OK, a couple days back I made an oblique allusion to a really bad viewing experience. For podcast listeners, you'll hear more (but not much more) about it in this week's podcast. But today, I want to accentuate the positive. So, from one of the worst Shakespeare films I've ever seen, to one of the best. It's not The Merry Wives of Windsor, but it does contain a line or two from it. In 1965, Orson Welles finally released his labor of love, Chimes at Midnight, also known as Falstaff. Welles, the director, is while NOT at his height of artistry, is pretty damn near the height of his ingenuity. And as a writer, he's pretty freaking miraculous, culling together bits of The First and Second Parts of Henry the Fourth, Henry the Fifth, and The Merry Wives, with some bits of Holinshed's Chronicles tossed in for good measure.

The film seems to be framed with the device of two old men, Falstaff and Shallow, reminicing at the end of their lives ("the days that we have seen!"). The opening shot of the two old men slowly making their way through a snowy winter field makes that connection for us. We hear them talk of the past, and then there we are, in those earlier days.

Thoughout the film, we see Welles as the master of composition, framing shots of the royals in cathedrals and ...

Mistress Quickly of The Merry Wives of Windsor is not the same Mistress Quick-LAY of the Henriad. While she is still unintentionally bawdy ("up early and down late" [I.iv.94]), the context is completely different. In the Henriad, the tavern is often mistaken as a bawdy house (or IS that a mistake), so her bawdiness there makes sense. Here, as the "dry nurse" (I.ii.3) to Doctor Caius, it feels out of place.

Or is it just that here it is more intentional?

Could she be the Elizabethan forerunner of Mrs. Roper???

This ever happen to you?

Remember how last week, we said that The Merry Wives of Windsor appears to have been produced between the two parts of Henry the Fourth.

Chronologically, it SORT OF makes sense as well.

Page denounces Fenton as a possible suitor for Anne because "he kept company with the wild prince and Poins" (III.ii.64-65). Poins had been Prince Hal's boon companion in both Parts. And I can see how Page would what any companion of the dissolute Hal to be a son-in-law (even if Hal is the crown prince).

There is, however, a problem with the chronology. This play opens with Justice Shallow feuding with Falstaff... and the two former classmates are not reunited until midway through The Second Part.

And, of course, there is the matter of the contemporaneous events of the play's composition and production: the installation of Frederick I, Duke of Württemberg, into the Order (referenced obliquely in Act Four).

Is this just a matter of references being shoehorned into the play to make it SEEM like there are connections?