Teressa Byrne & Joe Kinyon

2007

"Brush up your Shakespeare, Start quoting him now" -  from"Kiss Me Kate!"

Ya'll know that when we're not talking zombies or fiber, or giggling like the twelve-year-olds we are, we do mention Shakespeare . In passing, as it were. Maybe more than a bit. And apologize to him.  A lot.

Here's to the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon! You can find his complete works here, and it's searchable, which is awesome. No zombie hits, but five pages of mentions of "monster." All the Shakespeare quotes included in this post came directly from that site.

Shakespeare is the most filmed author of all time. Beginning with silent films, versions of Shakespeare's works have been filmed throughout the world. His works has inspired all kinds of adaptations, from musicals like "Kiss Me Kate!" and plays like "Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are Dead", to films as diverse as "Theater of Blood" (1973) with Vincent Price (which I must have missed... must find!) to "Romeo + Juliet" (Leonardo DiCaprio, Clair Danes) which used guns and cars but with Will's original dialogue - it's... original... to "Get Over It" (2001).

Shakespeare has been featured in TV shows from "Quantum Leap" (he leaps into a production of "Wives of Winsor", I can't wait to see this one) to "The Simpsons" to "Moonlighting" to... some episode of some show that is filming this week, no doubt.

The Melancholy Dane (Hamlet) is considered by many to be the greatest role ever written, and has been played by Sir Laurence Oliver (I highly recommend his very faithful film version), Sir Richard Burton, Kenneth Braughnaugh, and a fair number of women. Plus, well, everyone who can somehow arrange it. Including Mel Brooks in "To Be or Not to Be" (1983). Very highly recommended, very funny and touching - the Shylock speech from "The Merchant of Venice" has real bite in this.

Although some prefer King Lear. Or Richard the III. (Have you seen "The Goodbye Girl"? Richard Dreyfus is hysterical as Richard in a very odd production!)  Will wrote for actors of all ages, sometimes because he had a great actor of the right age to play the part.

Lady MacBeth is the prize for women - a very meaty role (heh). And of course Juliet, and... There are a lot of great roles for women. Will wrote strong women well (sadly a rarity even today), even though in his lifetime, of course, there were no females acting. On stage, at least. In bedrooms, another story I'm sure. But I digress...

Of course, the prize for "playing the most Shakespearean roles in one production" has to go to anyone who performs "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)" (also known as "The Compleat Works of Wllm Shkspr (Abridged)", a parody in which three actors do all of the plays. All of them. Well, shortened versions. "Hamlet" in 43 seconds. Really. Read that link. If you get a chance, definitely see this. You might get to play Ophelia! And then you could put it on your resume!  Look, there's a film of it - must see!

"I must be cruel, only to be kind." Hamlet, Hamlet (act III, scene 4)

So I must include a pop quiz. I warned ya'll to study last night!  Anna-Liza got 8 out of 10, and I only got 6 right.

Quick, distract them with some pig-licking:

Two, three, four...

"Kiss Me Kate!"  - Cole Porter and Will Shakespeare - awesome!

Shakespeare is quoted more than the average person on the street knows:

What, you don't say that all the time?

Perhaps you've heard a version of this?

Other phrases from Will: "With bated breath" (Merchant of Venice), "a foregone conclusion" (Othello), "methinks the lady doth protest too much" (Hamlet)... it goes on and on.

Shakespeare is in fact so interwoven into our culture that it would be impossible to extricate ourselves from his influence.

And why would we want to?

Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. - Second Witch, Macbeth (IV,1)

She's talking about this guy, not anyone's ex. Just to clarify.

I don't know how Will would feel about ending with that, so I'll end with a knitterly quote instead:

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and
ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our
faults whipped them not; and our crimes would
despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.
- First Lord, All's Well That End's Well (IV, 3)

Lyda here.

Did you see that? Two, count 'em, two musical theater references. Once a theater geek, always a theater geek.

I did work on the quilt some more Sunday. I sewed about 50 more two-inch seams. Less than a third of the way through the second set of ten rows. Sigh.  But it was just too hot to do anything much.

Really. It was over 80 degrees both Saturday and Sunday, all day and all night, with highs up to 90. The pollen count is really high, too. My breathing was not comfortable even with the medication. I'm afraid I was pretty whiny all weekend, as the fibromylgia kicked into high gear as well - to keep the asthma company, I guess.

Yes, thank you, I would like some cheese to go with my whine. Yes, I know, some of ya'll still have white stuff on the ground. And all I can say to that is: Nanee Nanee Boo Boo. But this heat is NOT normal for this time of year here.

And there wasn't much worth watching on TV. We really need to get a converter box to get the rest of the digital channels, so at least the junk will be picture-perfect. Why does all the stuff I want to watch come on at midnight?

Summary: Bitch bitch bitch.

Ain't I a treasure? How can I not be dating??

It's supposed to cool off today, and be cooler tomorrow. The Resident Sith Master didn't complain once this weekend about the heat, or my whining, proving once again that he is deserves a medal. Or twelve.

Meanwhile, we both spent some time laughing like crazy at the comics here. Warning: Not all of them are work-appropriate. Once again, Marin aids and abets my twelvehood. Guess which one she sent me? Heh heh.

And I know ya'll are asking, what's with all the Marin references? Is Pollyanna going for the World's Record in "Number of Marin Mentions" or something?

Yes. Yes I am.

Just so ya'll know.

But I digress...

To make up for all my whining, here is a pig video with some very lickable piglets for ya'll.

Who oinks ya, baby?

Twelve.

It's the new forty-something!

But who can truly measure such things? As Nicola says, Ann Miller always looked like she was really enjoying herself.

(I don't have the DVD -- damnit, why DON'T I? -- so I can't replace this rather fuzzy image found on Youtube with a sharper one.)

This movie also features Bob Fosse, previously featured in Cinema Euphoria in his role as director of SWEET CHARITY. Choreographer Hermes Pan (renowned for his work with Fred Astaire, though Fred is the prime mover there) encouraged Fosse to do his own choreography, since Fosse had a unique way of moving.

A lot of young Lynchians see Ann Miller in MULHOLLAND DRIVE and don't realise what a wonderful artist they're seeing. Lynch, who never auditions actors, probably saw Miller in a talk show or interview (he cast Mystery Man Robert Blake in LOST HIGHWAY after remembering his appearances on Johnny Carson). Miller gave great interviews, and she had quite a story to tell. Among other things, she believed she was the reincarnation of Queen Hathshepsut of Ancient Egypt, and her difficulties with men stemmed from the fact that in her previous life she could have them executed whenever they displeased her.

Well, I guess that would simplify things.

I'm not taking part in THAT stereotype of the fat, hairy-legged, man-hating, humorless feminist today.

Even though I happen to be a fat feminist with hairy legs who has just titled a blog post "I hate men".

I am not, however, entirely humorless.

Ha. Ha. (See?)

Having said that, however, let us consider misogynist bullying men who think they own the world and women with it. Them, I HATE. Include in this category my manager and his manager. And my step-father. And no, I don't care to go into further details.

On the other hand, in the category of 'Men whom I don't hate" my partner John tops the list. (Got that, sweetie? You are wheat, they are chaff? xx oo).

And I LOVE this performance of I Hate Men from Kiss Me Kate.

Das Filmmusical ist im Grunde ein totes Genre. Während für die Bühne weiterhin mit einer gewissen Verlässlichkeit ökonomisch relevante Erfolgsgeschichten geschrieben werden, tut sich das Gegenwartskino merklich schwer und lässt von gesungenen Erzählmustern lieber die Finger – und das aus gutem Grund. Für ein Zeitgeistphänomen, dem der Zeitgeist abhanden gekommen ist, bedarf es bei allen Wiederbelebungsversuchen nämlich echter kreativer Anstrengung, und die wird in der Unterhaltungsindustrie bekanntermaßen eher gemieden. Wie groß der Aufwand ausfallen kann, den man betreiben muss, um eine zeitgemäße filmische Aufbereitung des Genres zu erreichen, demonstrierte Baz Luhrmann 2001 mit „Moulin Rouge!“ ebenso eindrucksvoll wie nachhaltig. Dass sein Ansatz zugleich aber auch nicht wiederholbar ist, sondern vielmehr den Ausdruck einer sehr individuellen künstlerischen Persönlichkeit darstellt, zeigte sich bereits im Folgejahr überdeutlich anhand der im direkten Vergleich durch und durch konventionellen „Chicago“-Verfilmung, mit der das kurze Wiederaufleben des Genres im Übrigen auch schon wieder beendet war.

Zu seiner Blütephase fand das Filmmusical im Eskapismusbedarf seiner Zeit einen fruchtbaren Boden und bescherte vor allem MGM eine Unzahl sicherer Kassenerfolge. Rund 190 Titel produzierte das Studio zwischen 1929 und 1959, darunter Klassiker wie „The wizard of Oz“, „Singin´ in the rain“ oder „Kiss me Kate“. Mit der allgemeinen Kinokrise Anfang der 60er jedoch war auch die goldene Zeit des Filmmusicals vorbei, und im Gegensatz zu anderen Genres konnte sich seitdem kein Rehabilitationsversuch wirklich durchsetzen. Der Einzug von Themen mit politischer und sozialer Relevanz ins Kino der Nachkriegsgeneration erlaubte keine Heilewelt-Szenarien mehr, in denen fernab aller Realität im Chor gesungen und in Formation getanzt wurde. Erst Mitte der 70er war zumindest ein nostalgischer Rückblick wieder möglich (in Gestalt der MGM-Compilation „That´s Entertainment“ inklusive ihrer zwei Fortsetzungen). Doch im Grunde zementierten solche Akte der Wehmütigkeit die Tatsache nur umso nachhaltiger, dass sich das Filmmusical als Genre überlebt hatte und allenfalls noch in Einzelfällen funktionieren konnte (experimentell etwa bei Coppola mit „One from the heart“, homagenhaft bei Kenneth Branagh mit „Love´s Labour´s Lost“, ironisch bei Woody Allen mit „Everybody says I love you“ oder ganz konventionell in Form schlichter Bühnenverfilmungen beliebter Broadway-Produktionen). Wirklich erfolgreich gesungen wurde eigentlich nur noch in animierten Disneyfilmen, und auch dort ganz bald schon vor allem mit Blick auf eine spätere Bühnenauswertung. Eine wirksame Manifestation des Filmmusicals unter veränderten Bedingungen blieb jedoch bis heute aus.

Umso mehr müssen alle Versuche aufmerken lassen, die sich einer solchermaßen lähmenden Stagnation einfach in den Weg stellen und der Sache halber so tun, als gäbe es das Problem gar nicht. Julie Taymors zeitgeschichtliche Collage „Across the Universe“ ist so ein seltener Fall, der mit bemerkenswerter Selbstsicherheit weder vor klassischer Formationschoreographie noch ausharrenden Großaufnahme seiner singenden Darsteller zurückschreckt. Dass der Film dabei aber nicht zum konservativen Nostalgieprodukt gerät, liegt vor allem an seinem Grundkonzept. Produktionstechnisch war die Geschichte vor dem Hintergrund des Zeitgeistes der Mitt- und Spätsechziger Jahre zwar zunächst als Broadway-Produktion geplant, die Idee jedoch, Gefühlswelt und Geisteshaltung der einzelnen Figuren durch Songs der Beatles in den verschiedenen Phasen ihrer Entwicklung zu reflektieren, blieb auch bestehen, als das Projekt auf die Kinoleinwand umzog. Den Darstellern die Worte der einzelnen Songs allerdings auch dort direkt in den Mund zu legen, anstatt etwa mit Originalaufnahmen aus dem Off zu operieren, ist für einen Film durchaus mit nicht unerheblichen Risiken verbunden. Was jedoch auf der Bühne von der Tendenz gefährdet gewesen wäre, einer Einreihung in die Liste mehr oder weniger erträglicher Sing-along-Events populärer Musikphänomene anheim zu fallen, profitierte auf der Leinwand ganz offensichtlich von Taymors gleichzeitiger Bühnen- und Filmerfahrung, welcher es in der Hauptsache zu verdanken ist, dass der Einsatz singender Schauspieler vor dem realen Hintergrund der Antikriegsbewegung über weite Strecken durchaus funktioniert und der recht einfachen Geschichte eine wirkungsvolle Zusatzdimension verleiht.

Die Figuren nämlich, deren Namen allesamt einzelnen Beatles-Songs entstammen, haben ohne ihr musikalisches Innenleben wenig Chance auf charakterliche Tiefe. Dafür bietet die Geschichte selber zu wenig individuelle Konflikte und nutzt ihr Personal vor allem zur Repräsentanz zeitgeschichtlicher Archetypen. Beginnt das durchweg junge Ensemble um Lucy (zerbrechlich schön: Evan Rachel Wood) und Jude (Jim Sturgess) jedoch zu singen, so eröffnet sich ganz plötzlich ein unerwartetes Spektrum an Empfindungen, Widersprüchen, Hoffnungen und Sehnsüchten, welches sich vor allem aus der fast vierzigjährigen Wirkungsgeschichte der einzelnen Songs mit all ihren nostalgischen Verklärungen und individuellen Assoziationsketten speist. Eine simple Liebeserklärung wie „I wanna hold your hand“ gerät so zum Spiel mit unterdrückten Empfindungen und fehlgeleiteten Erwartungshaltungen, „Dear Prudence“ eröffnet ein vielschichtiges Plädoyer für das Bekenntnis zur eigenen Sexualität, und „Helter Skelter“ kollidiert als aggressive Kampfansage auf der Schwelle zum Terrorismus mit nostalgischem Festhalten an unschuldigen Friedensutopien im titelgebenden „Across the Universe“. Die Liste lässt sich beliebig fortsetzen. Das alles ist durchaus nicht frei von Kitsch und Plakativität, doch spiegelt der Film damit letztlich genau den überbordenden Romantizismus desjenigen Jahrzehnts wider, von dem er erzählt.

Was Taymors Film eine besonders willkommene Authentizität verleiht, ist die Entscheidung zur Live-Aufnahme der einzelnen Titel direkt am Set, die es erlaubt, die Schwelle zwischen Sprech- und Singstimme der Darsteller ausgesprochen niedrig zu halten. Umso natürlicher scheint sich der jeweilige Song (im sorgfältigen Arrangement von Elliot Goldenthal) in den narrativen Verlauf der Geschichte einzufügen, und umso leichter lässt sich aus ihm auch wieder aussteigen, ohne dabei die dramaturgische Balance zu gefährden. Ähnlich verhält es sich mit der Choreographie, die im überwiegenden Teil großen Wert auf den Einsatz natürlicher Bewegungsmuster legt und nur in wenigen Ausnahmefällen bewusste Formationen arrangiert. Je psychedelischer die Inszenierung dann in der zweiten Hälfte des Films wird, desto künstlicher fällt zugleich die Choreographie aus, und das ist dann auch durchaus gerechtfertigt, ohne forciert zu wirken.

Trotz allem darf man keine allzu große Geradlinigkeit erwarten, denn nicht umsonst entschied sich Taymor mit „Across the Universe“ für einen von John Lennons assoziationslastigsten Titeln – komplett mit Mantra im Refrain und getragen von den kosmischen Allmachtsfantasien der transzendentalen Meditation, der sich die Band damals verschrieben hatte (und für die heute bekanntlich David Lynch die Werbetrommel rührt). Assoziativ und collagenhaft fällt damit auch Taymors Inszenierung aus. Neben klassischen Erzählkonventionen gibt es psychedelische Farbspiele zu sehen, clipartige Montagesequenzen, Rückprojektionen, mechanische Großmasken (die einzige Spur von Taymors erfolgreichem „Lion King“), Cartoon-Animationen und Erdbeersoldaten. Stilbrüche sind durchaus Programm und geben der sprunghaften Erzählung ihre visuelle Entsprechung. Zusammengehalten wird der Film aber letztlich von der Musik, die seinen Rhythmus bestimmt und ihm die notwendige emotionale Tiefe verleiht. Und wenn Jude gegen Ende endlich denjenigen Song zu hören bekommt, dem er seinen Name verdankt, ist es tatsächlich erst das Kino, das erklären kann, warum die ganz großen Titel der Musikgeschichte in erster Linie die Aufgabe haben, uns daran zu erinnern, wo wir unerachtet aller Irrwege wirklich hingehören.

Artikel © 2007 Thomas Lenz. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Filmplakat: Sony Pictures Releasing GmbH

Kiss Me, Kate is a musical with a book by Samuel and Bella Spewack and music and lyrics by Cole Porter. It is structured as a play within a play, where the interior play is a musical version of The Taming of the Shrew.

Kiss Me, Kate was a comeback and a personal triumph for Cole Porter. After several successful musicals in the 1930s, notably Anything Goes, Du Barry Was a Lady, and Panama Hattie, he experienced an equestrian accident in 1937 that left him in constant pain. Following the accident, he continued to write songs and musicals but with limited success, and some thought he was past his prime. Kiss Me, Kate was a response to Rodgers and Hammerstein's Oklahoma! and other integrated musicals, and it proved to be his biggest hit and the only one of his shows to run for more than 1,000 performances on Broadway. It won the first Tony Award presented for Best Musical, in 1949.

After a 3½ week pre-Broadway tryout at the Shubert Theatre in Philadelphia starting December 2, 1948, the original Broadway production opened on December 30, 1948 at the New Century Theatre, where it ran for nineteen months before transferring to the Shubert, for a total run of 1,077 performances. Directed by John C. Wilson with choreographed by Hanya Holm, the original cast included Alfred Drake, Patricia Morison, Lisa Kirk, Harold Lang, Edwin Clay, Charles Wood, Annabelle Hill, Lorenzo Fuller, Eddie Sledge, Fred Davis, Harry Clark and Jack Diamond.

The original West End production opened on March 8, 1951 at the Coliseum Theatre, and ran for for 400 performances. Directed by Sam Spewack with choreography again by Hanya Holm, this production starred Patricia Morison, Bill Johnson, and Julie Wilson.

A Broadway revival opened at the Martin Beck Theatre on November 18, 1999 and closed on December 30, 2001 after 881 performances and 28 previews. Directed by Michael Blakemore and choreographed by Kathleen Marshall and Rob Ashford, the opening night cast included Marin Mazzie, Brian Stokes Mitchell, Amy Spanger, Michael Berresse, Ron Holgate, Lee Wilkof, and Michael Mulheren. This production won the Tony Award for Best Revival of a Musical.

A West End revival opened at the Victoria Palace Theatre on October 30, 2001 and closed on August 24, 2002. As with the 1999 Broadway revival, Michael Blakemore was the director with choreography by Kathleen Marshall. Brent Barrett and Marin Mazzie co-starred.

Act I

Egotistical Fred Graham is the director of a Broadway-bound musical version of William Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew. He and his diva movie-star ex-wife Lilli Vanessi star opposite each other in the roles of Petruchio and Katharine. The pair argue backstage as only people in love can argue. Meanwhile, Fred's girl, Lois Lane, who plays Bianca, is romantically interested in Bill Calhoun, the actor playing Lucentio. But Lois and Bill are also romantically linked. Bill loves to gamble, and it turns out that he has signed Fred's name to a big I.O.U. Also, flowers sent by Fred to Lois mistakenly get delivered to Lilli, and Lilli realizes that she still loves Fred.

Everyone is in the middle of performing The Taming of the Shrew on stage when Lilli discovers that Fred's flowers were really intended for Lois, and she starts an all-out war mid-performance that threatens the production's success. At the same time, a pair of gangsters have come after Fred to collect the gambling debt, since his name is on the I.O.U. Only a successful show will provide the money that Fred needs to avoid getting his fingers broken. Fred slyly uses the gangsters to prevent the furious Lilli from walking out on the show. The gangsters join the cast to keep an eye on Lilli. Lilli channels her anger into a fierce performance as Katharine, and Fred is forced to spank her as Petruchio.

Act II

After intermission, "The Shrew" progresses as Petruchio marries Katharine and soon misses the single life. The gangsters find out that their boss has been killed, and so the I.O.U. is worthless, and they leave, noting that guys who know Shakespeare can impress the ladies. Lilli quits the show, walking out with her dependable fiance Harrison. On stage, Bianca and Lucentio are finally married. As "The Shrew" comes to a close, Lilli unexpectedly returns to the stage, and speaking as Katharine, she admits her love for Fred. Lilli and Fred are reunited, Lois and Bill come together, and all ends happily.

Awards Tony Award for Best Musical
Tony Award Composer and Lyricist
Tony Award for Best Author
Tony Award for Best Revival
Drama Desk Outstanding Revival
Evening Standard for Best Musical
Critics Circle for Best Musical

A film version of the same name was released in 1953. There have been at least four television productions, the first on Hallmark Hall of Fame in 1958, with Drake and Morison reprising their Broadway roles, the second recorded for the launch of BBC Two in the UK in 1964, starring Howard Keel, Patricia Morison and Millicent Martin, the third in 1968 with then husband-and-wife team Robert Goulet and Carol Lawrence, and the fourth in 2003 on Great Performances, a high-definition shot performance of the London revival with Brent Barrett and Rachel York.

Kiss Me, Kate è una celebre commedia musicale con le musiche di Cole Porter e il libretto di Samuel e Bella Spewack, e fu la prima a vincere un Tony Award come "Miglior Musical", nel 1949.

Lo spettacolo racconta la vicenda di due attori che un tempo erano marito e moglie, e che si trovano a recitare a Broadway nella versione musicale della commedia shakespeariana La bisbetica domata, con l'ovvia nascita di bisticci e ripicche. Il tutto prende una piega ancora peggiore quando entrano in scena alcuni gangster creditori del produttore dello spettacolo.

Il musical debuttò a Broadway al "New Century Theatre" il 30 dicembre 1948, con la regia di John C. Wilson e le coregografie Hanya Holm. Il cast comprendeva Alfred Drake, Patricia Morison, Lisa Kirk, Harold Lang e Harry Clark. Grazie alla trama spumeggiante, ai meravigliosi numeri di ballo e alle splendide canzoni di Cole Porter (tra cui vanno ricordate "From This Moment On" e "Too Darn Hot"), quest'opera ottenne un trionfale consenso di pubblico e di critica, tanto da aggiudicarsi ben cinque Tony Awards, ovvero quelli per "Miglior Musical", "Miglior Autore di Musical", "Miglior Compositore", "Migliori Costumi" e "Miglior Produzione di un Musical".

Nel 1999 Kiss Me, Kate fu riportato con successo a Broadway, con la regia di Michael Blakemore e le coreografie di Kathleen Marshall e Rob Ashford; tra gli interpreti figuravano, tra gli altri, Marin Mazzie, Brian Stokes Mitchell e Amy Spanger.

Anyway, anyway. Here are the Whingers' Top Ten parodies and pastiches.

1. "Pretty Face", Songbook

Music by Monty Norman; lyrics by Julian More.

This forgotten show - a tribute to fictional songwriter Moony Shapiro - opened July 25, 1979 at the (old) Globe Theatre, (London) and starred Anton Rodgers, Gemma Craven, Diane Langton, Andrew C Wadsworth and David Healy.

"Pretty Face" features squeaky American chorines in Paris boasting about their intellectual and artistic prowess. It is ostensibly from Pretty Faces of 1934.

And Shostakovitch
Knows I know vich
Tunes are his tunes
Not showbiz tunes

If you can get your hands on the CD, "Nazi Party Pooper" - lampooning Hitler's rage at the success of black athlete Jessie Owens at the 1936 Berlin Olympics is excellent too.

2. "Hive Full of Honey", Calamity Jane

Music by Sammy Fain; lyrics by Paul Francis Webster.

Sung by Francis Fryer (Dick Wesson, below) in the film version. Fryer has been hired to play at the Golden Garter under the misapprehension that he is a she. Faced with the alternative of a violent retaliation by the occupants of the saloon if there is no show, Fryer is persuaded to impersonate a woman.

I've got two wonderful arms, I've got two wonderful lips,
I'm over twenty one, and I'm free!
Oh, I've got a hive full of honey
For the right kind of honey bee.

Wild Bill Hickok: She ain't very good lookin'
Calamity Jane: That ain't all she ain't!

3. "A Bushel and A Peck", Guys And Dolls

Music & lyrics by Frank Loesser.

"A Bushel and a Peck" was so popular before the Broadway musical even opened that it was moved from its original spot opening the second act into the first act. Strangely and criminally though, it didn't make it to the movie version. Performed by Adelaide (Vivian Blaine, right with Frank Sinatra) at the Hot Box.

Doodle, oodle, oodle.
Doodle, oodle, oodle.
Doodle oodle oodle oo.

4. "Chicago Illinois", Victor/Victoria

Music by Henry Mancini; lyrics by Leslie Bricusse.

The inestimable Lesley Ann Warren plays Norma Cassady in the film version and performs this classic in a Chicago nightclub.

Smack on the lake,
This is a rare port (actually, the words are "This is the re-port:" but I think you'll find ours are funner),
Some day they say
We'll have an airport

5 "Keep It Under Your Hat", Calamity Jane

Music by Sammy Fain; lyrics by Paul Francis Webster.

No apologies for including two from Calamity Jane. In the movie version this is sung in the Golden Garter by Allyn McLerie as Katie Brown.

Well, now, if you've got a cutie who's a real sweet patootie,
Better keep it under your hat.
Just remember curiosity in fables of old
Killed the curious cat.

6. "Brush Up Your Shakespeare", Kiss Me Kate

Music & lyrics by Cole Porter.

Well, OK, so this isn't actually from a show within a show and it's one of the few from Kiss Me Kate that isn't, but it's still a very knowing Vaudeville parody and a wonderful song by a songwriter at the top of his game (but then again, when was he not?).

7. "Wunderbar", Kiss Me Kate

Music & lyrics by Cole Porter.

Operetta duet parody sung by separating husband and wife Fred Graham and Lilli Vanessi (Howard Keel and Kathryn Grayson in the movie) as they reminisce about a dreadful production in which they appeared together in happier days.

Gazing down on the Jungfrau
From our secret chalet for two,
Let us drink, Liebchen mein,
In the moonlight benign,
To the joy of our dream come true.

8. "Oom Pah Pah", Oliver!

Music and lyrics by Lionel Bart.

Nancy(Shani Wallis) provides a distraction to faciliate the escape of Oliver from the clutches of Bill Sykes with an irresistible sing-a-long number that gets the whole inn going.

Pretty little Sally goes walking down the alley
Displays her pretty ankles to all of the men
They could see her garters, but not for free and gratis
An inch or two and then she knows when to say when

9. "Springtime for Hitler", The Producers

Music and lyrics by Mel Brookes.

A veritable masterpiece.

I was just a paper-hanger
No-one more obscurer.
Got a phone call from the Reichstag
Told me I was Fuhrer

10 "I've Written a Letter to Daddy", Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

Music by Frank De Vol Lyrics by Bob Merrill.

Bette Davis as a mad old biddy reprising the song she sang as a child star.

Bubbling under:

• Follies, of course. Loads of pastiche. "You're Gonna Love Tomorrow" shines. "Broadway Baby" and "I'm Still Here" probably transcend the genre.
• Gypsy has a good few. "Let Me Entertain You" deserves special recognition because of the way it is transformed from children's song to bump-and-grind number.
• "All I Do Is Dream of You The Whole Day Through" from Singin' in the Rain is a bit of a cheat as it wasn't written for the film, but it's so expertly arranged and presented as pastiche that it gets our vote.
• Cabaret is stuffed full of them too - "Two Ladies", for instance
• Chicago is a bit of a borderline case. Good pastiches ("Me and My Baby") but are they from shows within shows or not?
• Mame features "The Man in the Moon is a Lady"
• Jazz Baby was written in 1919 but because of Carol Channing's performance in Thoroughly Modern Millie we'd have to include it in the revue.
• Annie "You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile" is a great parody of a radio advert.
• Then there's A Chorus Line, La Cage Aux Folles etc etc etc
  

Got any better ideas? Leave us a comment below. Producers should - in the interests of their reputations - contact us here.

I'm going to miss the thrill of 'Too Darn Hot' (though I won't miss the attempts of certain cast members to embarrass me about the exposure of my chest during the number).  The pressure of getting the rhythm of the number going by tapping my clipboard and whistling before the orchestra joined in.  The excitement of watching our lead singer for the number, a first time performer who really sizzled.  The sense of anticipation as I and another actor joined the singing and dancing as the number began to build.  The heart-in-mouth moment when said actor would leap into my arms as the vocals reached a climax - a comedy moment in the choreography, but truly terrifying as I could easily have dropped him.  The tangible buzz from the whole cast as the choreography built in intensity.  The incredible reaction of the audience.  And the responsibility of breaking the moment and getting the show going again with the next line.

I'm going to miss the rest of the score, with those outrageous lyrics and the absolutely infectious orchestrations.  The amusing touches from the percussion.  The contrast between the on-stage music and the off-stage.  The amusing section of dance music that my character forced the orchestra and dancers to repeat many times over until a set change was achieved.  The vocals of our leads.  I have the cast recording, but it really isn't the same.

I'm going to miss the shouting, though my voice hasn't forgiven me for it, and the tenor register has gone on vacation, leaving me with bass notes and croaks.  Shouting is not something I generally do in real life, and I've certainly never received a laugh or a round of applause for shouting before.  The irony of making 'Will you be quiet?' the loudest line in the show by quite a large margin.  The startled looks from cast members, even six months into rehearsals.  The thumbs up signs I'd get from other cast and crew as I returned to the wings.

I'm not going to miss the frantic costume change from stage manager to Shakespearean finery complete with a hat worthy of Bill or Ben the Flower Pot Men.  The frantic terror that I wouldn't make it into the auditorium in time to sing.  The mad checking that no vestiges of stage manager Ralph (glasses, watch, cravat)  were present.  The dry mouth that assailed me as I ran madly from stage to quick change room to auditorium.  I might miss the whispered 'well done' as I appeared next to the auditorium door in time to hear the last few lines of the scene before my sing.  Perhaps.

I'm going miss working with the cast.  No doubt I will perform alongside most, if not all, of these people again, but you can't help wondering whether the next combination of people will be as much fun.  The company jokes, and the shared enjoyment of particular lines and moments of choreography.  The support and encouragement that flowed with no prejudice.  The complete lack of any arrogance from any of our lead performers.  The gratitude the leads expressed for the small contributions I made to keep their scenes flowing.  The willingness that everyone had to help each other with costume changes, prop placement and other details, to an extent I've never seen before.  The way in which all the major and minor principals, from Kate and Petruchio to the suitors and the stage doorman, came to inhabit their roles like a second skin.

But I can be proud and happy.  Proud of what the Society achieved despite the false starts and difficulties along the way.  Proud of a group of performers who created something rather special, some of them more easily than others.  Proud of myself for pulling out all the stops and stepping over a couple of inhibitions.  And proud to add 'Ralph, Stage Manager' to my list of roles.

The tune is simple and catchy, though the revised version of the show currently doing the rounds adds some tough harmonies to the number.  It drives  along, expressing the combination of dread and elation that performing a show brings with it.  I sincerely doubt that a musical analysis of the song would provide much insight even if I had the skills to do such a thing, so let's look at the lyrics...

Another op'nin', another show
In Philly, Boston or Baltimo',
A chance for stage folks to say 'hello',
Another op'nin' of another show.

This is a show that has set its sights on Broadway and is starting the out-of-town tryouts period, a common practice back in the so-called Golden Age of musical theatre.  The musical would be tested and shaped in a less expensive city, or several cities, before braving the New York audiences and critics, and would often change drastically along the way.  The phrase 'lost in Boston' refers to a whole host of songs, scenes and characters that were dropped on the road because they simply didn't work.  Sometimes absolutely brilliant material gets shed because it holds the show up, or doesn't quite fit with the overall concept, or even because the star can't sing it quite right.  The most famous casualty of this kind is George and Ira Gershwin's wonderful song 'The Man I Love', which suffered this fate a couple of times before finally getting the exposure it deserved.  The new version of Kiss Me, Kate includes a similar refugee - 'From This Moment On', which was cut from Cole Porter's later musical Out of This World.  For the last couple of decades, tryouts seemed to be going out of fashion, but many recent shows have been going back to the old ways of doing things.

The company (cast, crew and others) gathers in the tryout city of choice, meeting up with old acquaintances among the cast and crew, rekindling old friendships and rivalries and causing widespread bouts of reminiscence.  This happens even in amateur circles as the beginnings of rehearsals bring together a unique, disparate group of people for the first time.  You 'say hello' to newcomers and old hands alike.

Another job that you hope at last,
Will make your future forget your past,

Every new show is going to be 'the one'.  It's not going to close on the road, it's not going to shudder to a halt on Broadway or be laughed out of town.  This time, this time, you're in the season's biggest hit that will run for years and make you the toast of the town.  This one is going to make your name in whatever circles you move in, and possibly propel you on to greater things.  Mistakes and flops of the past will be forgotten in the wake of this glorious show.  Financially and artistically, this is a new start.  If you're lucky, that is...

Another pain where the ulcers grow,
Another op'nin' of another show.

Getting involved with a show is a great way to lose weight.  And hair.  Stress, worries, midnight panics, temper tantrums, late nights, missed lunches and much more contribute to those ulcers.  This is presumably less true if this is your normal job, but the unstoppable approach of opening night must be one of the scariest deadlines in the world.

Four weeks, you rehearse and rehearse,
Three weeks, and it couldn't be worse,
One week, will it ever be right?
Then out o' the hat, it's that big first night!

It's really quite disturbing how quickly the opening night catches up on you.  And it never, ever seems as though everything is in place.  Everyone involved will be working like mad right at the last minute to make sure that every line, step and note is right, to make sure the costumes fit, the sets have been painted, the lights illuminate the right people, the programme is proofread and printed and a thousand other things happen that need to happen to make the show run smoothly.  The closer you get, the more things you realise there are that can go wrong.  And then it happens...

The overture is about to start,
You cross your fingers and hold your heart,
It's curtain time and away we go!
Another op'nin of another show.

Waiting in the wings as the houselights dim and the orchestra strikes up the overture is one of the best and worst feelings in the world.  Ludicrous levels of adrenaline begin to course through your system with each note, and then finally it's time to step out from the gloom into the bright lights as the curtain comes up.  Away you go!  The next couple of hours are a complete blur, as something has started that's completely out of your control.  Running like clockwork, whether it's going well or badly, you can't go back and do it again.  You experience highs and lows of emotion within seconds and in many ways there's absolutely nothing you can do about any of it.  You love it and hate it.  You dread it and long for it.  You swear you'll never do it again, then count the days until the next time. 

There's nothing quite like opening night, and Cole Porter does a remarkable job of distilling the conflicting feelings of the cast and crew as they approach it.  Joy, despair, anticipation, dread, elation, depression and frustration follow one another in quick succession until that huge, huge 'hit' as the curtain rises.  Weeks or months of effort have suddenly come together in a glorious moment that is special no matter how good or bad the show may be.  It doesn't always go right, but there is much that is thrilling about the moment when your performance, costumes, direction, sets, lighting, technical abilities or whatever else are presented to the world for the first time.  Your heart is in your mouth, but you wouldn't swap it for anything.  Just over nine weeks to go for me, and already I can feel it.  Bring it on - another op'nin of another show!

The songs.  First and foremost, it's the songs, a collection which surely amounts to Cole Porter's finest hour.  Each song, serious or silly, serves its purpose admirably, no matter what it's purpose may be.  And so much of it is instantly memorable, and has gone on to be part of our staple musical diet - 'Another Op'nin', Another Show', 'Wunderbar', 'So in Love', 'Too Darn Hot' and 'Brush Up Your Shakespeare' have been sung by countless people outside of the context of the show.  And this is less than half of the score!  Due to the nature of the show, which takes place both on-stage and off-stage at a performance of a musical Taming of the Shrew, half of the numbers are part of the Shakespearean action.  Most of these are showcases for Cole Porter's way with a lyric, featuring ever more outlandish rhymes as the verses pile up.  Absolutely ridiculous, each and every one of them, but such magnificent fun!  There are two dull spots, but they can be forgiven.  'We Sing of Love' only exists to cover a scene change (but then, so does 'Brush Up Your Shakespeare', a much better number).  And 'Bianca' is meant to be bad - a brilliantly terrible love song written by one of the characters.  The others, even 'We Open in Venice', are absolutely spot on - how else would this version of Shrew begin other than with a prologue song of incredible inanity?

The score.  Unusually for Cole Porter, the songs for Kiss Me, Kate really hang together as an integrated score, representing the closest he ever came to the 'Rodgers and Hammerstein model' which was becoming all the rage during the 1940s.  The style of the Shrew songs is quite distinct from the backstage numbers, and an operetta pastiche ('Wunderbar') is also thrown in, for a reasonably good reason.  When Fred reprises 'So in Love', with exactly the same words that Lilli used earlier in the show, it manages to be perfectly right for his situation as well, rather than a lazy excuse to trot a good tune out again.  It's not sophisticated, with musical motifs and themes running through, but it's not meant to be a sophisticated show.

The story.  Ignore the unpleasant message, and the plot of The Taming of the Shrew is an absolute cracker, with strong characters and memorable situations.  Combine it with the problems which always arise from mixing work with your personal life, and the show's plot practically writes itself.  The introduction of a couple of gangsters,who get sucked into the production, is an idea of true comic brilliance, which leads to the show's most side-splitting moments.  The dialogue has dated since 1948 (so thank goodness for the hilarious revised libretto), but the plot sparkles as much as ever.

Kiss Me, Kate does not have a serious message to impart to its audience.  It isn't 'great art' (whatever that is), nor does it aspire to be.  But it has warmth, humour and skill in both words and music.  It definitely gets the audience humming (which any good musical should) and gives them more than their money's worth in entertainment.  However, it is no mere trifle, and deserves to be taken seriously for its achievements.  It is magnificent fun, but unlike some other fun musicals, it isn't a theatrical McDonald's which satisfies for a few minutes than leaves you feeling cheated.  The performers can leave the theatre having worked hard but had a lot of fun.  The audience can leave the theatre entertained and unashamed.  And all of them can leave the theatre humming 'Too Darn Hot'.  For the next week or so...