Do the players really need three people to hurry them along?
Or is Hamlet just trying to get rid of them?
Given that he immediately calls in a different friend, it would seem that he wants to confide in someone and he doesn’t want those two hanging around spying. And having three people standing around hurrying you along might, in fact, make a group of players move a little faster.

This is my actor’s nightmare. The curtain time has been moved up, so there’s no time to prepare. Meanwhile, we’re working with brand new text that we haven’t really had time to memorize adequately. And the stakes are high – the entire royal family is about to watch this hurried, un-ready performance. My heart beats faster just thinking about it.

What would happen if he wouldn’t? Like, what if the king were like, “I’m not really into the theatre. And actually, you know, I’ve got some business of State to get done tonight. You know, some king stuff. So you all enjoy the play.”

Would the play go on without him? Would Hamlet just cancel it? Would he reschedule it for a time he could make sure the king will see? What if the rest of Hamlet were Hamlet trying to get Claudius to come see his show? It would become a marketing drama, rather than a tragedy, perhaps. Maybe years would go by while Hamlet tries to get the King to watch this thing. He brings in critics to talk about how great it is. He has a bunch of postcards made and he leaves them everywhere the king happens to be. He stages pop-up teaser performances in the throne room.

In the workshop I was just teaching, we were trying to think of a good word to use when someone made a mistake in the game. Ideas of Huzzah! And Zounds! Were floated. But actually, I think How Now might be great. It’s a pretty versatile pair of words. Used in a variety of contexts, a flexible little iamb or troche, depending.

I don’t think Hamlet’s given them their full half hour call here. I mean, there’s pretty much only a page before the audience shows up to see this show. So maybe the players are already made-up and dressed. Hopefully, they got whatever warm-up they needed in before their pre-show meeting with the Prince of Denmark.

Maybe making themselves ready at this point is just some grounding, centering, about to hit the stage stuff. Some last minute props checking, etc. Maybe getting ready means PLACES (And squeezing in some clown reprimands.)

So the clown isn’t there when Hamlet gives this speech? He’s laying into bad clowns when there aren’t even clowns in the room?
Where is the clown, then?
The play’s about to start and the clown’s not with the rest of the players?
Is he doing some special clown warm-ups?
(That’s what I’d be doing – rolling on my back, stretching, breathing, etc.) Or is he somehow making mischief already? Drinking? His separation from the rest of the players is curious.
It makes me wonder if the clown was a bit marginal even within the ranks of the players at this time. Is he both a member and NOT a member of the company?
A pariah?
A star?
The clown is often the audience favorite – maybe this particular clown is off getting a nice massage before he dives into his star turn in the Murder of Gonzago or The Mousetrap. Maybe he’s got a star on his door and can’t be bothered with meetings with princes/playwrights.

If there’s one thing taking a lot of clown classes will give you, it’s the opportunity to see a lot of clowns fall into this sort of trap. I’ve seen blabbering of lips, crazy dancing and a non-stop torrent of JOKES JOKES JOKES – all of which fall as flat as a glass of seltzer a week after it came out of the bottle.
When you watch someone in this state, something being done authentically does feel as unlikely as a blind man catching a rabbit with his bare hands. The inevitability of failure is as forceful as a tornado heading straight for you.

I’m curious about the WARM part, though. Hot, I’d understand to be a clown on fire, a clown killing, a clown on a roll. I suppose a warm clown is NOT doing those things? Wouldn’t that be a cold clown?
That’s when I start to think about the humors – which generally operate on the extremes – cold being one thing, hot being another – maybe warm is undesirable because it is neither?
It’s just a curious word – because warmth usually has such positive associations and here it is obviously not desirable to be a warm clown. Maybe it’s like a warm spot in a swimming pool. . .not so desirable when you think about it.

Ways this line might be a punchline:

– after the clown takes a sip of someone’s urine that’s been collected in a cup
– after the villain has stuffed his mouth with a lemon, and the clown finally gets a drink of beer
– the clown is presented at a formal dinner, he sits in his uncomfortable suit, he’s doing his best fitting in, until the wine is poured, and he tries to be helpful
– the clown finally gets to kiss the tavern wench and instead of saying the romantic line that’s expected, delivers this one

Dear Santa Claus,

This is my first letter to you. Well, actually, it’s my first letter ever! I’m writing to you because I can’t seem to make my wishes clear any other way. This year, for Christmas, I want a cullison. I don’t care what kind. I’d take a scout badge or a rescue emblem. But I want one to sew right on my right lapel.

I told the guy who wears me and he seems to understand me but he doesn’t DO anything. Every year, I get more threadbare and I still don’t have my cullison. So I’m writing to you, Santa Clause. I’ve never received a Christmas gift of any kind so maybe you could add up all the gifts I haven’t gotten thus far and bring me a really nice cullison. Or a cruddy one. I’ll take any kind I can get.

Love,
The Clown’s Coat

See also, this blog about the place that diminished my fee a week and a half before the gig. That was about a quarter’s wages.