Huge apologies for my long absence! I’ve been dealing with some health problems this autumn, and a few things had to take a back seat— but welcome to all new subscribers, I’m delighted to have you! Things will likely continue to be slow over the holidays, but hopefully getting back to consistency in the new year.
When I was studying acting, this monologue was on the ‘never perform at auditions’ list, not because it isn’t good, but because it’s so over-done. There aren’t that many comic monologues for women in Shakespeare, so it’s easy to see why actors keep returning to the few classics.
I didn’t see this production, which mostly made headlines for its casting of Tamsin Greig as Malvolio. It’s interesting how rarely Viola is the top-billed role in recent productions, given what a fantastic one it is— but that may be a function of the fact that by the time an actress has progressed in her career to a point where she can headline a Shakespeare production, she’s outgrown roles like Viola, and the part is too difficult to just cast an inexperienced starry name who wants to try out Shakespeare.
I think this speech illustrates a lot of what makes Viola such a tricky part, and maybe another reason acting teachers counsel against performing it for auditions. You can see it in Tamara Lawrance’s somewhat stilted attempts to engage the audience, as we’re told soliloquies should do. But even as Viola attempts to recap the convoluted plot, it doesn’t really seem like she’s meant to be doing it for the audience’s benefit. She doesn’t seem to need anything from us, as speakers of other soliloquies tend to do. This fact robs the speech of the kind of objective-based energy that is the foundation of contemporary acting theories.
This also makes me think about Viola’s extreme independence as a character. Though she relies upon the sea captain at the beginning of the play, and of course enters into Orsino’s service, she is stubbornly resistant—especially in contrast to Sebastian, who is happy to be completely guided by Antonio—to asking for anyone’s help in her efforts to survive. She chooses a course that will not only allow her, but force her to be fundamentally alone, and she sticks to it even when just asking for a hand might get her out of difficulties. So it makes sense that she resists the audience’s help, too, performing not to us, or even for us, but simply working things out for herself while we happen to be present.
Don’t ask me why the video cuts off before completing the final couplet, though…
Does Viola really rely on the Sea Captain for more than information? "I'll pay thee bounteously" is how she gets him to "conceal me what I am." I agree that she is very much her own woman, and I predict that none of the marriages will last into the new year. (Maybe Maria/Toby, but I think that pairing is doomed as well.) I hope you're feeling better. Glad you're posting again.