Good Posture, Diction And Great Legs Poem by gershon hepner

Good Posture, Diction And Great Legs



Good posture, diction and great legs,
with lubrication when he’s lupine,
are traits for which this poet begs,
seducing them to make them supine.

He works, without abacabra,
his magic, and his dirty dancing
does not turn into danse macabre
once gals are ready for romancing.

About him there is no imposture
to stimulate their hormones and
ensure that they provide the moisture
that sails them both to loverland.

Of course he sometimes uses fiction
to make them crave for him, but sex
goes better without diction friction,
and smoothes all pathways up great legs.

Inspired by a review of Patrick Marber’s adaptation of Stindberg’s “Miss Julie, ” with Sienna Miller playing the title role (“Seduction by Class Conflict, ” NYT, October 23,2009) :
Playing the title role in Mr. Marber’s adaptation of “Miss Julie, ” August Strindberg’s love-and-death shocker from 1888, Ms. Miller registers as a healthy, sane young woman with good diction, good posture and great legs. Commendable as these attributes are, they are of limited use in portraying a tautly wound, death-courting neurotic who is eaten alive by her own demons. Let’s continue to give Ms. Miller points for courage, though, for appearing in this Roundabout Theater Company production, which also stars the first-rate Jonny Lee Miller, as her forbidden love object, and is directed by Mark Brokaw. The highborn, low-stooping Miss Julie (transposed by Mr. Marber from 19th-century Sweden to post-World War II Britain) is a challenge for even the most seasoned actress, a role that makes the celebrated basket cases Hedda Gabler and Lady Macbeth look like child’s play. Strindberg’s original work, which he dauntingly described as “a naturalistic tragedy, ” has been performed all of three times on Broadway, and never for more than a handful of “special engagement” performances. The reasons why have changed. A century ago “Miss Julie, ” which portrays a flirtation that turns into an erotic danse macabre between its aristocratic title character and her father’s valet, went places that polite society never ventured. Today that sadomasochistic terrain has been so well tilled that Strindberg’s symbol-freighted psychodrama can register as campy melodrama unless it’s performed with brute conviction and delicate skill. And besides, this class thing: aren’t we all pretending to be over that? Besides, in a theater season that has felt like a boys’ club of male movie idols from abroad (Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman in “A Steady Rain, ” Jude Law in “Hamlet”) , wouldn’t it be gratifying if one fearless woman — with fewer stage credentials than the guys but almost as much tabloid exposure — walked away with the laurels? I looked forward to announcing that the American-born, British-bred Ms. Miller had entered stage right as a mere movie mini-star but exited a goddess of the the-a-tuh. You have probably inferred that I will be saying no such thing. Playing the title role in Mr. Marber’s adaptation of “Miss Julie, ” August Strindberg’s love-and-death shocker from 1888, Ms. Miller registers as a healthy, sane young woman with good diction, good posture and great legs. Commendable as these attributes are, they are of limited use in portraying a tautly wound, death-courting neurotic who is eaten alive by her own demons…
While Mr. Miller and Ms. Miller are undeniably attractive people, their Julie and John don’t seem terribly attractive to each other, a serious problem. There is one early moment of real erotic tension, when Julie extends her leg and asks John to kiss her shoe. Ms. Miller looks smug at first, then saucy, then distinctly uncomfortable and finally a bit frightened, as Julie wonders what she has let herself in for.Mr. Miller snatches at that pretty foot like a ravenous fish going after a hooked worm. Unfortunately, he — and we — are destined to stay hungry for the rest of the night.

10/23/09

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