Much Ado About Much Ado

Super-fun, and super-problematic.

Public domain (source).

This weekend, I went to go see the Joss Whedon Much Ado About Nothing (my favorite Shakespeare play plus my favorite director: I was obligated), and it got me thinking: Much Ado About Nothing is basically impossible to do modern adaptations of. At the same time, it begs for modern adaptations.

First, a breakdown for those of you who haven’t spent your summer rewatching this production of the play: the play has two interlocking plots. One, the more engaging plot, follows two people who hate each other (Beatrice and Benedick) who are convinced by their friends and family that each loves the other. After much sexually tense banter, the pair swallow their pride, decide they do love each other, and–by the end of the play–marry. This is the part of the play that is totally calling out for a modern adaptation, because it is essentially the plot of every romantic comedy and/or endlessly readapted Austen novel. Beatrice and Benedick are by turns the origin of great banter (à la His Girl Friday) and some wonderful slapstick as they eavesdrop on friends who know they’re there.

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Keep on the Sunny Side

I’ve been in a Thought Catalog-style funk the past few weeks. This doesn’t usually happen this time of year–I love autumn, and I still have a month to go before the pumpkins are out and the candy flows like trans fatty water. But so far this week I’ve just been burying my head into my possibly flee-infested pillows and not checking my email.

Academic burnout: it’s possible that I can, as the internet would say, haz. And all for reasons that are a) pretty objectively sucky and b) completely out of my control. These are my favorite! Like a root canal without Novocaine! Or a honey badger to the face!

So as to distract myself from the encroaching sense of “bleurgh,”/”I am going to cry in my car now because I Have A Lot of Feelings” I’m compiling a list of my favorite things from my favorite season. Feel free to add your own, bloglings.

Indian corn: Something about me just goes all a-tingle when there’s Indian corn to be placed festively in baskets. (Native American corn? Technicolor dream maize? I assume that “Indian corn” is probably considered impolite at this point in our collective history.)

Pumpkin beer: New on the list, for legal reasons. But I do so love booze and the taste of seasonal gourds together. Now if only Terrapin would quit selling their pumpkin brew in four packs instead of six…

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