[14 September 1992]
This skit was performed on stage
for an AIDS benefit. Rowan Atkinson's character is unnamed, but may as
well be a Blackadder. The other character, whom you will know, was played
by Hugh Laurie.
[Blackadder is looking through some papers. There's a knock at the door.]
BA:
Come.
[The door opens, and a man steps in.]
BA: Bill!
Bill, good to see you. [They shake hands.]
WS: Sorry
I was late -- the traffic was a bitch!
BA: Good to
see you. Well, the play's going well, isn't it? Looks like we've got a
bit of a smash on our hands.
WS: Well,
it, er, seems to be OK, yeah.
BA: They always
seem to go for the ones with the snappy titles: `Hamlet'. Perfect! Perfect.
WS: Act Three
may be a bit long, I don't know...
BA: Act Three
may be a bit long... In fact, generally, I think we've got a bit of a length
problem.
WS: Oh?
BA: It's five
hours, Bill, on wooden seats, and no toilets this side of the Thames.
WS: Yeah,
well, I've always said the Rose Theatre is a dump, frankly. I mean, the
sooner they knock it down and build something decent, the better.
BA: Exactly.
So that's why I think we should trim some of the dead wood.
WS: "Dead
wood"?
BA: Yeah,
you know: some of that standup stuff in the middle of the action.
WS: You mean
the soliloquies?
BA: Yeah,
and I think we both know which is the dodgy one.
WS:
[getting upset] Oh? Oh? Which
is "the dodgy one"?
BA: Erm...
"To be ... nobler in the mind ... mortal coil ..."; that one. It's boring,
Bill. The crowd hates it -- Yawnsville.
WS: Well,
I don't know about that. It happens to be my favourite, actually.
BA:
Bill, you said that about the avocado monologue in
`King Lear', and the tap dance at the end of `Othello'.
WS: Absolutely
not! You cut one word of that, and I'm off the play.
BA: Bill,
Bill... the King has got his costume change down to one minute. Hamlet's
out there ranting on about God-knows-what in that soliloquy of yours, and
Claudius is already in the wings waiting to come on with that very funny
codpiece -- waiting!
WS:
[very upset; stands] All right,
all right, you can just cut the whole speech altogether!
BA: Bill,
Bill, Bill... Why do we have to fight? It's long, long, long. We could
make it so snappy...
WS: "Snappy"?
BA: Yeah,
you know: give it some pizzazz. How's it begin, that speech?
WS:
[sits] "To be."
BA: Come on,
come on, Bill.
WS: "To be
a victim of all life's earthly woes, or not to be a coward and take Death
by his proffered hand."
BA: There,
now; I'm sure we can get that down!
WS: No! Absolutely
not! It's perfect.
BA: [preparing
to write] How about "To be a victim, or not to be
coward"? [shrugs]
WS: It doesn't
make sense, does it! To be a victim of what? to be coward about what?
BA: OK, OK.
Take out `victim'; take out `coward'. Just start "To be, or not to be."
WS: You can't
say that! It's gibberish!
BA: But it's
short, William, it's short! Listen, it flows: "To be, or not to be; that
is the question." D'de, d'de de de, d'de d'de de de! OK?
WS: You're
damn right it's the question -- they won't have any bloody idea what he's
talking about!
BA: Well,
OK, let's leave that and go on. "Blah blah blah blah blah, slings and arrows"
-- good! action; the crowds love it -- "take up arms" -- brilliant -- "against
those cursed doubts that do plague on man" -- eugh... Getting very woolly
there, Bill. Plague's a bit tasteless at the moment -- we've had letters,
actually. "...and set sail on a sea of troubles" -- this is good: travel;
travel's very popular. So let's just take out the guff and see what we've
got. "To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take
up arms against a sea of troubles"! Good!
WS: I resign.
[stands]
BA: Bill,
it's brilliant!
WS: It's absolute
crap! What is he talking about? He's going to put on a bow and arrow and
potter down to the seaside? This is Prince Hamlet, not King Canute! He
>might as well< kill himself if that's the best idea he can come up
with.
BA: Creative
thinking, Bill! Hamlet; perhaps he >should< top himself!
WS: In Act
One?
BA: Well,
yeah, well, we must think about bums on seats, Bill. Let's face it: It's
the ghost that's selling this show at the moment. Joe Public loves the
ghost; he loves the swordfights; he loves the crazy chick in the see-through
dress who does the flower gags and then drowns herself. But no-one likes
Hamlet -- no-one.
WS:
[disgusted] All right, then,
I'll kill him off for you. [picks up paper and quill] Ermm...
[reads] "Aye; there's the rub. To die, to sleep..."
[writes] "Whoops! (Hamlet falls off the battlements)"
[puts down paper and quill]
BA: Bill,
Bill, Bill; I can see you're annoyed. I'm sorry. Hamlet has his moments.
The mad stuff is very funny. It really is hysterical. But all I'm saying,
Shakey, is let's just shorten this one terribly long speech.
WS: ...and
all I'm saying is no. You cut one word, and you can take my name off the
credits.
BA: All right.
I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll trim this speech, and you can put back
in those awful cockney gravediggers.
WS: The both
of them?
BA: Yeah.
WS: And the
skull routine?
BA: Yep --
the whole sketch.
WS: All right,
then; you've got a deal -- and we'll see which one history remembers.
[turns to leave]
BA: Bill,
I love you!
[WS exits]
BA: Temperamental
git.