The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Part I

Headlining with a movie reference.  A movie with one of the most recognizable themes of all time, that amazing whistley Ennio Marricone piece with it's voices and galloping strings.  I found that I was able to make a good day on Wednesday with the proper music. Not Ennio's piece, but a lot of old New Wave music on SiriusXM First Wave.  As William Congreve said, "Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast." 

So since I last wrote I've had a lot of experiences that link to this post's title.  Good days, bad days.  I want to start with a truly lovely evening.

Last night I went out with my friend Stacey.  We began with a good dinner at Zydeco.  (I wound up taking half of my jambalaya back to the hotel where I am eating it for lunch as I write this post!  Along with a nice dark beer of course.)  

She then took me to see a fast and furious live comedy called Shakespeare in Hollywood. A friend of hers was in it and it was opening night. The play is Ken Ludwig's satire/farce/comedy/Shakespearian tribute set in 1934 Hollywood during the filming of Max Rinhardt's A Midsummer Night's Dream.  The local actors had utterly honed their performances.  This is not always the case with community theatre.  Comedy is much harder than drama and farce is the hardest genre in the world to perform well. The cast succeeded mightily.  There were a lot of Shakespearean quotes, of course, a magical plot point, great japes and jests, and fun costumes.

Unlike my friend and perhaps half the audience, I've been well acquainted with the cast of characters from early Hollywood since my own distant youth.  I grew up watching black and white movies on television (because that's what was available) and fell in love with the Magic of the SILVER SCREEN.  And of course, when a student falls in love, the object is studied.  In middle school I subscribed to a cheaply printed, flyer-like magazine for trivia fans about Classic Hollywood (circa 1966).  I bought copies of Famous Monsters of Filmland with its focus on the Universal catalogue.  In high school I watched Fractured Flickers every Monday night after dance class.  I learned about the 5 Majors (Warners, RKO, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Paramount, 20th Century Fox) and their history as a freshman in college (in a class taught by my dead best friend).  And for the past year I've heard Dick Powell's voice at least once a week as I listen to Hank's Gumshoe Radio and hear him as Richard Diamond, Private Detective.  

As for my familiarity with the Bard, not only have I "taught" MSND in my Philosophy of Love and Sex Class, in the interest of full disclosure ("When have you ever had any other kind of disclosure?"), I note here that I played Helena in high school.  The self same high school where Olivia de Havilland  pursued the arts just before the Warner Brothers grabbed her to play Hermia in Max Rinehardt's Midsummer Night's Dream. And I do mean "just before."  She was the same age I was when I seduced Will. 

This may explain my initial irritation with one aspect of the script.  I wondered why the male characters in

the play had their "real life" names:  Will Hays, Jack Warner, Dick Powell, etc., but of the (only) three women characters, the two actresses were given fictional names.  Jean Muir, who played Helena, is called Lydia Lansing and Olivia De Havilland, who played Hermia, is called Olivia Darnell (this last name stolen from Linda Darnell?).  Why?  

Quick google later:

"Ludwig was going to name the main female character Olivia de Havilland, but didn't out of concern some part of the play might offend her. "The main female character is not named Olivia de Havilland, but she sure resembles her a lot."

And I'm going to hypothesize that the hypothesized mistress of Jack Warner (and I loved the actor playing that part -- Tom Kelly -- best in show, imho) was renamed to avoid tarring Ms. Muir, who was dead by 2004, with the adulterous brush.  (Fifteen years after her portrayal of Helena, Jean Muir became the first actor to be fired and blacklisted for having been a communist.)

So spending the evening with my friend was one of the good things that happened.  

So was my Wednesday discovery that I can be happier and get more done if I STEP    AWAY     SLOWLY  from the fucking television and tell Alexa to play some Billy Idol:  "It's a nice day for a white widow...."

"It's a nice day to START AGAI- ain.  Yeaow!"