Possibly the best moments during The Globe Theatre’s 4 July rendition of Shakespeare’s As You Like It and the Soho Theatre’s 3 July Flesh and Bone were the moments in which the fourth wall were broken. I’m a fairly attentive audience member, and though I tend to fidget a bit in my seat to scratch the occasional itch or wipe off my glasses – or in the case of the play at The Globe, shift back and forth continuously until I find a nice security guard who will allow me to lean on the post so long as I do not sit down on it – I listen to/understand at least 90% of what’s happening on stage at any given time. (For the final 10%, I’m fidgeting, or wiping my glasses, or looking at a facial expression of a cast member while someone else does something funny and I miss it entirely.)
I find myself most actively captivated when I am literally pulled in to the play.
For anyone unsure of the phrase “breaking the fourth wall,” it’s basically the concept of a fictional character addressing the actual audience of whatever show/movie/play they’re in. This can be through direct dialogue, through references to the making of the art, or through discreet hints that remind the audience that the ~fictional thing~ is indeed fictional. It’s when actor Ryan Reynolds in Deadpool signs a kid’s cereal box ‘Ryan Reynolds’. It’s when Uncle Phil from Fresh Prince of Bel Air reminds his children that they’re rich, and Will Smith asks, “If we so rich, why we can’t afford no ceiling?” as the camera pans up to reveal the studio lights above.
In As You Like It, the fourth wall is broken when Jacques points to the boy in the seats of The Globe and addresses him directly during the lines “And then the whining schoolboy with his satchel / And shining morning face, creeping like snail / Unwillingly to school” in Act II, scene vii. I’m not sure if this next example counts as a direct breaking (the element itself can be indirect, though typically clearly spotted) but I think Jacques also breaks the fourth wall when he squishes a banana in his mouth right before the play’s most noted line, looks at the audience, swallows, and repeats the line. (“All da wull’s uh sterge… sorry, All the world’s a stage / And all the men and women merely players…”) These instances are different from the moments in which the actors perform asides or monologues – which are elements of the genre – and are also different from when bits of humor are added to scenes otherwise not terribly funny, like when Lord Amiens begins to sing a song handed to him on a piece of paper and pretends it’s a shopping list.
In Flesh & Bone, the fourth wall is broken as Olivia Brady’s Kelly is about to audition for a singing job when her water breaks, and the other characters clear a spot for her to give birth in the audience by shooing an audience member out of her chair. The baby, portrayed by a soccer ball, is later held momentarily by another audience member. Various monologues include direct audience interaction, featuring the furious/frustrated Alessandro Babalola’s Jamal screaming at a lady in the first row and softening immediately. I can’t imagine how she felt in that moment, but from my seat, I could feel the character as if he were really a person as his emotional turmoil rendered and quieted itself. In a review by Amelia Brown on thespyinthestalls.com, she calls Jamal “electric to watch, hard then soft then hard again in a moment.”
Perhaps the reason that I love the constant tearing down of the fourth wall so much is because for me, it’s sometimes difficult to be invested otherwise. Or, if I’m invested in the plot line, it’s superficially and I can be pulled out of the moment just as quickly as I was drawn in. The energy of a room is fermented when the audience feels close to the story, and the best way to do this is to invite them in on a first class ticket.
I came into this study abroad trip with a lot less information/context than the rest of the group had. I hadn’t studied Londinium or the Great British Empire, didn’t really know what the plays were about, wasn’t sure what to expect from each day or what sorts of exhibits we’d go to. (Soon, I’ll download a copy of Measure for Measure online and add it to my reading list. Old PDF of the syllabus, lettin’ me down.) I had no idea what Flesh & Bone was about or that we would be in such a small space with such proximity to the play, and I think that’s why I was so attentive when that fourth wall was broken and suddenly the audience was apart of what was happening. To be frank, it’s more interesting to me to feel like I’m within the same world of a play, like I am myself a diegetic element.
I’m happy that both plays we’ve seen have done this and I look forward to searching for my little bit of insider recognition in the upcoming productions!
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