I’m a big fan of David Benedict, but he’s wrong in this case. It would be your lucky day etc is extremely funny. Dressed up as unintentionally funny. So I would say intentionally unintentionally funny.
This gem is easy to overlook: “rise from the ranks of the aristocracy.” A knee-slapper IMHO.
There was a point in my life when I certainly had the time but certainly not the means to pop across the pond on a whim and see this production; now I have the means but not the time. I would love to see this. (This is a great post, by the way—easily among your best.)
Thank you! It felt as I was writing it a bit like eight digressions with a single thought attached, as opposed to my usual single thought with thirteen digressions attached, but I’m glad that it seems to have worked out okay!
(I might, too, often build a trip to London around a production, and often have, but I don’t know that it’ll work out this time. We’ll see.)
I think—and I hope this will sound like the compliment I intend it to be—you are elevating the digression to an art form, and I (as the young people say) am here for it.
Excellent post! But, to footnote 6, please don’t encourage them. I quote The Times (of London)*, Thursday 22nd August, surely not the first offence this week:
“As Oscar Wilde might have observed, to launch one restaurant may be regarded as a misfortune but to launch five looks like carelessness.”
*would that I had Dreyer’s English to hand here in my hotel room, to remind myself the correct American usage for that particular publication
Oh wow! I used to love listening to recordings of Shakespeare plays. Hearing the lines said would make the meanings come to light. Would love to hear Dame Edith's recordings...💕 Thanks for a great history.
A little googling should lead you to a number of Dame Edith’s recordings, including at YouTube, as I recall, and some of her poetry is available for download at iTunes. It’s all very rewarding. And thank you for liking the piece! B
I wanted to wait to respond to this amazing and informative post until I could get a reaction from my daughter Anna, a full-on Theater Kid who played Lady Bracknell in high school. I remember very well her line reading of “A HAND-BAG??” and I thought it was hysterical, but neither of us had any idea of the history of the line—and I had no idea where she got her reading from! Anna found the post as fascinating as I did, and we now want to watch the 1952 movie together. Anna says I coached her on a lot of line readings, but since I had no background with Earnest before this production, I can’t imagine where I would have gotten it from. She also thinks she may have been influenced by an older student in a prior production. Dame Edith lives on! Anna is particularly looking forward to the costumes in the movie. Thanks so much for sharing all of this with us!
How delightful! I suspect that Dame Edith's reading of that line has so penetrated the zeitgeist that even people who don't actually have any firsthand experience of it somehow get infected with it, and it gets passed along. I was very pleased to have the corroboration of Mr. Macaulay that till Dame Edith put her spin on it, that line wasn't thought at all central.
Also, the costumes in the film are remarkable.
I find the actor playing Algernon more than a bit insufferable, and it was only decades later, seeing Santino Fontana in the role, that I realized what an actor can do with the part (and why the Doctor Who actor is playing Algernon and not Jack).
And I didn't even touch on Joan Greenwood as Gwendolen, and just brace yourselves for her.
Something to tuck away for a later discussion: Greenwood's Gwendolen is astonishingly charming and alluring and lovely, but she lets you know that, as Oscar warns us, she's absolutely going to evolve into her mother, and it's a bit terrifying.
Gwendolen! Now I remember: Anna played Gwendolen in that earlier production when the older student was Lady Bracknell, so I did know Earnest before that. I think you’re absolutely right—I think Dame Edith’s line reading was there all along, and probably Anna and I got it from that production without even realizing it. Fascinating, how in a collaborative art form like theater, a drama, a character, or a single line may evolve over time due to one inspired performer putting their spin on it. So good to know!
Poor Judi Dench. On the phone to me once – the only such occasion – she admitted that she’d played Lady Bracknell three times on stage and on the radio and had “never got her right.”
Some years later, that astonishingly misguided film version happened – which the director evidently believes to be a rom-com about two men properly in love with the women. Sadly, it showcased Dame Judi’s fourth failed attempt.
How come? Because her enviable gift is to bring warmth and compassion to every character she plays, those being the two qualities Lady Bracknell signally lacks. As she says in Act Three, “When I married Lord Bracknell I had no fortune of any kind.” A dragon, yes, but also a monument of self-constructed preening artificiality.
Brilliant! Thank you. xxx
❤️
The line is immaterial… I’m dying. It’s no no soap radio but still.
I’m a big fan of David Benedict, but he’s wrong in this case. It would be your lucky day etc is extremely funny. Dressed up as unintentionally funny. So I would say intentionally unintentionally funny.
This gem is easy to overlook: “rise from the ranks of the aristocracy.” A knee-slapper IMHO.
It's Kushner himself declaring the line not especially funny. David is just reporting the declaration.
I see! Thanks.
Happy we’ve got that sorted out.
And thank you for the words of appreciation.
My pleasure.
Very entertaining! ". . . to marry into a cloakroom. . ." made me laugh too!
There are so many legitimately—and intentionally—funny lines in the play, it’s amazing that the most celebrated line is a throw-away remark.
It's been a hellacious week and I very much needed this inspired levity.
"...and I don't just mean homosexuals, though I do of course mean homosexuals."
Thank you, Benjamin.
Let's do it up right for the weekend, as best we can. OK? ❤️
I already have my *hand bag*!
😂❤️
There was a point in my life when I certainly had the time but certainly not the means to pop across the pond on a whim and see this production; now I have the means but not the time. I would love to see this. (This is a great post, by the way—easily among your best.)
Thank you! It felt as I was writing it a bit like eight digressions with a single thought attached, as opposed to my usual single thought with thirteen digressions attached, but I’m glad that it seems to have worked out okay!
(I might, too, often build a trip to London around a production, and often have, but I don’t know that it’ll work out this time. We’ll see.)
I think—and I hope this will sound like the compliment I intend it to be—you are elevating the digression to an art form, and I (as the young people say) am here for it.
I never realized that "hand-bag" has eight syllables. Thanks, Dame Edith! Thank you, Benjamin! 💙
Excellent post! But, to footnote 6, please don’t encourage them. I quote The Times (of London)*, Thursday 22nd August, surely not the first offence this week:
“As Oscar Wilde might have observed, to launch one restaurant may be regarded as a misfortune but to launch five looks like carelessness.”
*would that I had Dreyer’s English to hand here in my hotel room, to remind myself the correct American usage for that particular publication
Just (in italics) *The Times.* Everyone else needs to be modified. Not them.
Thank you!
If you really, really, really have to:
*The Times* (UK)
London is not far for me and that trailer had me gasping. Benjamin, thank you for planting an idea!
Get tickets, yes!
Oh wow! I used to love listening to recordings of Shakespeare plays. Hearing the lines said would make the meanings come to light. Would love to hear Dame Edith's recordings...💕 Thanks for a great history.
A little googling should lead you to a number of Dame Edith’s recordings, including at YouTube, as I recall, and some of her poetry is available for download at iTunes. It’s all very rewarding. And thank you for liking the piece! B
I wanted to wait to respond to this amazing and informative post until I could get a reaction from my daughter Anna, a full-on Theater Kid who played Lady Bracknell in high school. I remember very well her line reading of “A HAND-BAG??” and I thought it was hysterical, but neither of us had any idea of the history of the line—and I had no idea where she got her reading from! Anna found the post as fascinating as I did, and we now want to watch the 1952 movie together. Anna says I coached her on a lot of line readings, but since I had no background with Earnest before this production, I can’t imagine where I would have gotten it from. She also thinks she may have been influenced by an older student in a prior production. Dame Edith lives on! Anna is particularly looking forward to the costumes in the movie. Thanks so much for sharing all of this with us!
How delightful! I suspect that Dame Edith's reading of that line has so penetrated the zeitgeist that even people who don't actually have any firsthand experience of it somehow get infected with it, and it gets passed along. I was very pleased to have the corroboration of Mr. Macaulay that till Dame Edith put her spin on it, that line wasn't thought at all central.
Also, the costumes in the film are remarkable.
I find the actor playing Algernon more than a bit insufferable, and it was only decades later, seeing Santino Fontana in the role, that I realized what an actor can do with the part (and why the Doctor Who actor is playing Algernon and not Jack).
And I didn't even touch on Joan Greenwood as Gwendolen, and just brace yourselves for her.
And thank you for liking the piece!
Something to tuck away for a later discussion: Greenwood's Gwendolen is astonishingly charming and alluring and lovely, but she lets you know that, as Oscar warns us, she's absolutely going to evolve into her mother, and it's a bit terrifying.
I’ll watch for it! Thank you!
Gwendolen! Now I remember: Anna played Gwendolen in that earlier production when the older student was Lady Bracknell, so I did know Earnest before that. I think you’re absolutely right—I think Dame Edith’s line reading was there all along, and probably Anna and I got it from that production without even realizing it. Fascinating, how in a collaborative art form like theater, a drama, a character, or a single line may evolve over time due to one inspired performer putting their spin on it. So good to know!
#prosodygoalz
Poor Judi Dench. On the phone to me once – the only such occasion – she admitted that she’d played Lady Bracknell three times on stage and on the radio and had “never got her right.”
Some years later, that astonishingly misguided film version happened – which the director evidently believes to be a rom-com about two men properly in love with the women. Sadly, it showcased Dame Judi’s fourth failed attempt.
How come? Because her enviable gift is to bring warmth and compassion to every character she plays, those being the two qualities Lady Bracknell signally lacks. As she says in Act Three, “When I married Lord Bracknell I had no fortune of any kind.” A dragon, yes, but also a monument of self-constructed preening artificiality.