Pixar soars once again, lifting audiences UP

Something has been a bit off with Pixar. Though enjoyable, I never quite understood the excitement over The Incredibles.  Cars was utterly boring. Ratatouille was cute, but lacked a vitality of inspiration.  And WALL•E, which began with such invigorating promise, abruptly devolved into cute-robot-saves-the-day dreck. Pixar, the company I had built such high hopes for based on the visual delights and depths of emotion presented in the Toy Storys and Finding Nemo, was dropping the ball. 

And then I saw Up.  

Everything I had been missing about Pixar was there: complex human emotion presented through beautifully simple storytelling, clever dialogue and honest humor, and breathtaking, fantastical feats of visual imagineering.  Within the first ten minutes of the film, I had laughed loudly and openly, abruptly and quietly wept, and then laughed again before I had a chance to wipe away the tears.

The story is simple:  we watch as the withdrawn Carl (the wonderful, curmudgeonly Ed Asner) meets his childhood sweetheart and fellow adventurer, the charmingly boisterous Ellie. Through a brilliantly calibrated and underscored sequence sans dialogue, we witness them fall in love and marry; we weep with Ellie upon the devastating realization that she cannot have the children they so longed for, and we  whole-heartedly root for them as they save and plan for the South American adventure they had always dreamt of experiencing together. When life gets in the way and their grand plan falls to the wayside, that’s exactly when the adventure begins: Carl attaches a rainbow of balloons to their lifelong home, and in a loving tribute to his beloved Ellie, steers the makeshift contraption to Paradise Falls, along the way, learning the life lessons of how to let go and open himself to new experiences and new loves. Of course, Carl does this all with the help of a quirky and endlessly amusing supporting cast of characters including the youngand adorably earnest boyscout-stowaway, Russell, the loyal and lovable canine, Doug, and the maniacal foil and one-time idolized explorer, Charles Muntz (the always wonderful, and in this case, delightfully despicable, Christopher Plummer).

While the story is predictably conventional, there’s a reason Carl’s tale of loss and rediscovery is one of the oldest narratives in existence: it is universally true, resonating with all audiences, everywhere. Carl’s tale is heartbreaking and heartwarming, and Pixar tells it so thoroughly and subtly, and with such elegance and understanding of the human experience, that instead of overpowering the beautiful simplicity of the story, the awe-inspiring animation elevates and enhances its inherent narrative delights through lush coloring, vibrant characterizations, and heartrending sequences. The title is more than fitting: as Carl and his house of balloons alternately ascends and falls, paralleling his life journey, we know that no matter how weighed down or disheartening life becomes, there’s nowhere to go but Up.  And that genuine and open optimism creates the best kind of (Pixar) adventure.

And the Tony goes to…

If you’ve read my Oscar predictions post, you know how long this type of post can be. Unfortunately, because I’m a bit behind schedule, this will be mostly just predictions, with the just the barest of criticism.  But yes, let it be known: I did see every last nominated performance/production and so this will be an informed prediction.

So, without further ado, here are my picks (*), as well as my predictions.  Enjoy!

 

Best Play

Dividing the Estate

Author: Horton Foote

God of Carnage

Author: Yasmina Reza

Reasons to Be Pretty*

Author: Neil LaBute

33 Variations

Author: Moisés Kaufman

 

This is a rather dismal category. Actually, all of them are, but Broadway plays always seem to bring forth rather lackluster material as of late years. I wasn’t floored by any of these: I wanted more carnage (and fewer cliches) in Carnage, less Amadeus and more originality and emotional connection in Variations, and I frankly could’ve done without Estate altogether (zzzzzzzzzzz). I’m not a huge LaBute fan, but he seems to be softening up a bit, which I enjoy, creating characters that are a little less hateful and a little more sympathetic. The amazing performances by Thomas Sadowski and Marin Ireland didn’t hurt either. 

 

Best Musical

 

Billy Elliot, The Musical*

Next to Normal

Rock of Ages

Shrek The Musical

 

This category is a no brainer. Next to Normal is the clear winner in voters’ eyes, but my fingers are crossed for the little boy who just wants to DANCE! Normal tries too hard to be “edgy” and “important,” but the music is uninspired, the lyrics oftentimes insulting (the bipolar lead sings “I saw this movie,” and continues to parallel her experience to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest as she stands defiantly on a gurney…ugh), and the book just all around underwhelming as it fails to take any risks beyond its initial concept (ie. a musical about mental illness!). I like Rock of Ages more now that I’ve seen the YouTube series, but it’s just shallow good fun, and Shrek is…well, Shrek. Billy’’s book is heartwarming and topical, though Sir Elton’s music is by far the weakest link in the show (someone please tell this man to stop writing musicals) — he has no theatrical sensibility when it comes to developing character and themes — it’s just pop music. But god damn if I didn’t love every minute of this show.

 

[Unfortunately, the only nominated productions that I did not see were the "special theatrical events." Somehow, I think Will Ferell will be successful with or without my vote...or money]

 

Best Book of a Musical

Billy Elliot, The Musical Lee Hall *

Next to Normal Brian Yorkey

Shrek The Musical David Lindsay-Abaire

[Title of Show] Hunter Bell

 

I actually have no idea what the committee will go for here, but my vote goes to Hall. I wouldn’t be surprised if [tos] lands this one, as this is the only nomination that show received (and you know I feel vindicated because of that ). 

 

Best Original Score (Music and/or Lyrics) Written for the Theatre

 

Billy Elliot, The Musical

Music: Elton John

Lyrics: Lee Hall

Next to Normal

Music: Tom KittLyrics: Brian Yorkey

9 to 5: The Musical *

Music & Lyrics: Dolly Parton

Shrek The Musical

Music: Jeanine Tesori

Lyrics: David Lindsay-Abaire

 

I hope I’m wrong with my prediction, but I doubt it. I can’t lie: I had a FANTASTIC time at 9 to 5, and though that was mostly due to the book and choreography, Dolly does have a knack for lyrics and tunes — if not showtunes. And if I didn’t know Tesori brought us those fine scores in  Caroline, or Change and Violet, I’d think she was hopeless.

 

Best Revival of a Play

Joe Turner’s Come and Gone

Mary Stuart*

The Norman Conquests

Waiting for Godot

 

The winner here is so clear to me, but since I’m not voting, the only one we can really count out is Godot (zzzzzzzzzzzzzz). The critics loved Joe, audiences and (most) critics loved Norman (my least. favorite. show. of. the. year.), and most all adored Mary. Forget the guys, the gal-dominated production trumps them all with its fierceness and intensity. 

 

Best Revival of a Musical

Guys and Dolls

Hair

Pal Joey

West Side Story

 

This category may be the saddest of all. I’m not sure how you screw up classic musical comedy gold, but Lauren Graham & Co. sure figured it out with Guys and Dolls, possibly the worst production of a musical I’ve ever seen on the Great White Way. Pal Joey wasn’t much better, and we all know how I feel about West Side Story. I am not a fan of Hair, and this production did not change my mind, but everyone adores it, and so it’s winning, like it or not. If I have to pick one to win, I’m — shockingly — going to root for WSS. But only because of the incredible score, choreography and (some of the) performances. Lord knows it wasn’t the direction, design, or the added Spanish.

 

Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Play

Jeff Daniels, God of Carnage

Raúl Esparza, Speed-the-Plow

James Gandolfini, God of Carnage

Geoffrey Rush, Exit the King*

Thomas Sadoski, Reasons to Be Pretty

 

I don’t know how he can’t win. Seriously. And I thought all the other guys were terrific, too.

 

Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Play

Hope Davis, God of Carnage

Jane Fonda, 33 Variations

Marcia Gay Harden, God of Carnage*

Janet McTeer, Mary Stuart

Harriet Walter, Mary Stuart

 

This is a bit harder than the guys. The Mary ladies were fantastic, and Marcia Gay Harden was hardcore fierce.  I think the Marys may cancel each other out with half the committee voting for one, half for the other — but who can say for sure? Janet is the critical darling (though I tend to think the performance is a bit affected), but I’m going to go for Marcia. If only for her amazing ability to beat the crap out of James Gandolfini, while spitting verbal fire at everyone else. Fun stuff.

 

Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical

David Alvarez, Trent Kowalik, and Kiril Kulish – Billy Elliot, The Musical*

Gavin Creel, Hair

Brian d’Arcy James, Shrek The Musical

Constantine Maroulis, Rock of Ages

J. Robert Spencer, Next to Normal 

 

This category is boring. What a sad year for musical theatre all-around — except for the dynamite performances by the trio of Billys. (side note: I found Constantine utterly charming. There, I said it.) 

 

Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical

Stockard Channing, Pal Joey

Sutton Foster, Shrek The Musical

Allison Janney, 9 to 5: The Musical

Alice Ripley, Next to Normal*

Josefina Scaglione, West Side Story

 

This isn’t even a competition. (and what in god’s good name is Stockard doing up there? The woman can. not. sing. (yes, she has gotten worse since Grease! No, I am not kidding). Then again, neither can Janney…but I love her too much to fault her for that).

 

Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play

 

John Glover, Waiting for Godot

Zach Grenier, 33 Variations

Stephen Mangan, The Norman Conquests

Paul Ritter, The Norman Conquests

Roger Robinson, Joe Turner’s Come and Gone*

 

And I thought the last category was underwhelming, but I had to look half of these gentlemen up in ibdb.com just to remember who they played.  Roger Robinson gets my vote, as he was both  charming and smart in Joe Turner. Glover would be my second vote, but I have a feeling voters will go for one of the Norman boys. I can’t be bothered to look them up, as I disliked this trilogy — and everything associated with it — so much. Sorry, guys: it’s not you–it’s Ayckbourn.

 

Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Play

Hallie Foote, Dividing the Estate

Jessica Hynes, The Norman Conquests

Marin Ireland, Reasons to Be Pretty

Angela Lansbury, Blithe Spirit*

Amanda Root, The Norman Conquests

 

I cannot even fathom that voters won’t give this one to Angela. So, so charming and funny and still so sprightly at age 84, her Madam Arcati steals the show each time she’s on stage. No one else even holds a candle to her. The only way I’d forgive Tonys voters for not voting for Jessica Fletcher is if they vote for the fabulous Marin Ireland.

 

Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical

David Bologna, Billy Elliot, The Musical 

Gregory Jbara, Billy Elliot, The Musical

Marc Kudisch, 9 to 5: The Musical*

Christopher Sieber, Shrek The Musical

Will Swenson, Hair

 

I have a feeling the funny guys are going to win the day here. Kudisch is great as the smarmy womanizer, Franklin Hart, and Christopher Sieber’s pint-sized, egomaniacal Lord-Farquaad made me laugh so hard I cried. Unfortunately, he’s in that big green show, so he’ll probably get the cold shoulder. Shrek’s not gettin’ any Tony-love, guaranteed.

 

Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical

Jennifer Damiano, Next to Normal

Haydn Gwynne, Billy Elliot, The Musical

Karen Olivo, West Side Story*

Martha Plimpton, Pal Joey

Carole Shelley, Billy Elliot, The Musical

 

Karen Olivo is fierce (word-of-the-day). That is all.

 

Best Scenic Design of a Play

Dale Ferguson, Exit the King*

Rob Howell, The Norman Conquests

Derek McLane, 33 Variations

Michael Yeargan, Joe Turner’s Come and Gone

 

I didn’t get the Norman design (what was with that miniature cityscape that disappeared as soon as the show began?) and Joe Turner’s was a bit overly-conceptual for my taste, but Exit’s was pitch-perfect with the crumbling, rich asthetic. Too bad it’s not showy enough to win — this may be the category that earns 33 Variations its sole Tony (though I thought the twirling bookcases were a bit over-the-top, they were fun and helpfully distinguished between the two worlds within the show).  

 

Best Scenic Design of a Musical

Robert Brill, Guys and Dolls

Ian MacNeil, Billy Elliot, The Musical*

Scott Pask, Pal Joey 

Mark Wendland, Next to Normal

 

What was up with the projections in Guys and Dolls? And that ridiculously tall staircase in Pal Joey? Discluding those missteps leaves us with the “edgy” Normal and the never dull let’s-move-in/up/down-a-set-piece-every-five-minutes Billy. I vote for the latter, if only because I have the attention span of a 6 year-old. 

 

Best Costume Design of a Play

Dale Ferguson, Exit the King

Jane Greenwood, Waiting for Godot

Martin Pakledinaz, Blithe Spirit

Anthony Ward, Mary Stuart*

 

I love the contrast between the men’s contemporary suits and the women’s period pieces (especially that gorgeous red velvet number that Janet McTeer sports at the end). 

 

Best Costume Design of a Musical

Gregory Gale, Rock of Ages*

Nicky Gillibrand, Billy Elliot, The Musical

Tim Hatley, Shrek The Musical

Michael McDonald, Hair

 

I want Gale to costume my next 80s party.  Amazing. If Shrek gets any love, it clearly will be for its clever fairy-tale creature costumes.

 

Best Lighting Design of a Play

David Hersey, Equus

David Lander, 33 Variations*

Brian MacDevitt, Joe Turner’s Come and Gone

Hugh Vanstone, Mary Stuart

 

MacDevitt’s design gave Joe Turner the magical realism-quality that it needed, but I like the more elegant and musical-quality of Lander’s. (If that makes sense. I’m not sure it does, but there you have it.)

 

Best Lighting Design of a Musical

Kevin Adams, Hair

Kevin Adams, Next to Normal

Howell Binkley, West Side Story

Rick Fisher, Billy Elliot, The Musical*

 

Binkley designs for pretty much every major musical that comes to Broadway, but unfortunately, I cannot forgive him for the mess that was Parade’s Bway design.  Fisher’s alternately subtle and flashy design wins my vote.

 

 

[I'm skipping sound design, as I know nothing about that...]

 

Best Direction of a Play

Phyllida Lloyd, Mary Stuart*

Bartlett Sher, Joe Turner’s Come and Gone

Matthew Warchus, God of Carnage

Matthew Warchus, The Norman Conquests

 

Best Direction of a Musical

Stephen Daldry, Billy Elliot, The Musical*

Michael Greif, Next to Normal

Kristin Hanggi, Rock of Ages

Diane Paulus, Hair

 

I cannot even tell you about the genius that is Stephen Daldry’s staging. Go see Billy and discover it for yourself.

 

Best Choreography

Karole Armitage, Hair

Andy Blankenbuehler, 9 to 5: The Musical*

Peter Darling, Billy Elliot, The Musical

Randy Skinner, Irving Berlin’s White Christmas

 

This was a tough call, but Billy IS the dance musical, so Tony voters are going to gravitate towards it when it comes time to cast ballots (as they should: the dance numbers are phenomenal). But my boy Blankenbuehler (of In the Heights fame) takes a fluff piece and elevates it with his office-like choreography. I can’t explain it — just go see it. We haven’t seen such a distinct style of musical choreography since Fosse. So great!

 

[I don't know anything about orchestrations either.]

 

 

 

There you have it. Happy Tonys Day!

 

And the Oscar goes to…

It’s one of my favorite days of the year: a day preceded by a lot of hard work, sweat, and (oh-so-many) tears, running from theatre to theatre, partaking in many an eye-straining and butt-numbing double feature, and maybe some, shall we say, not-so-legal viewings as well.  (Maybe.) It’s Oscar day, y’all, and you can count on me to yell and curse the Academy with the best of ‘em tonight at 8:00ET.  So, without further ado, here are my predictions, aggravations, and adorations.  

Predicted winners are shown with their picture; if different than that which is predicted, my pick is, fittingly, in orange font.

Performance by an actor in a leading role

 

• Richard Jenkins in “The Visitor” (Overture Films)
• Frank Langella in “Frost/Nixon” (Universal)
• Sean Penn in “Milk” (Focus Features)
• Brad Pitt in “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
• Mickey Rourke in “The Wrestler” (Fox Searchlight)

While I’m a big fan of Rourke, there was simply too much fanfare for this performance. While perfectly subtle in his depiction of both the emotional and physical pain of a lonely wrestler embarrassingly past his prime, the story too closely parallels Rourke’s own life of isolated suffering and disappointment for his performance to be a revelation. Instead of being even more poignant because of this connection, it felt less so.

Frank Langella, on the other hand, blew me away with his Richard Nixon, layering what could have been a one-dimensional corrupt and blustering politico with flashes of heartbreak and isolated despair. His carefully balanced portrayal isn’t as politically timely as Sean Penn’s Harvey Milk or as (supposedly) awe-inspiringly computer-rendered  as Brad Pitt’s precocious Benjamin Button.  And that’s exactly why, though not quite the underdog (sorry, Richard Jenkins), he’ll be overlooked. And I’m sad about it.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role

• Josh Brolin in “Milk” (Focus Features)
• Robert Downey Jr. in “Tropic Thunder” (DreamWorks, Distributed by DreamWorks/Paramount)
• Philip Seymour Hoffman in “Doubt” (Miramax)
• Heath Ledger in “The Dark Knight” (Warner Bros.)
• Michael Shannon in “Revolutionary Road” (DreamWorks, Distributed by Paramount Vantage)

This is probably the least contested category; we all know the golden boy this year is Ledger, so really why bother with other nominees? What saddens me is the prospect of what would have transpired had the young talent not passed away long before his time. Would the Academy ever acknowledge and amend its previous indiscretion?  Speaking of said indiscretion, Philip Seymour Hoffman, is, as always, in fine form: over-acting, over-yelling, and generally mutating the character of Father Flynn beyond recogntion, he only adds to the horror that is the film adaptation of the stage-worthy Doubt. But we’ll get back to that soon.  

Always and forever a Goonie, Josh Brolin is close to my heart and inspires my admiration more and more with every role he takes on, but the problematic Milk simply doesn’t give him enough opportunity to show what he can really do with the infinitely complex killer, Dan White.

While I adore Downey, I cannot even fathom what the Academy was thinking. Cannot. Even. Fathom.

I have to say, though, that if the ghost of Ennis Del Mar wasn’t still haunting us, I’d be enthusiastically rooting for Michael Shannon. We all know I love the crazies, and Shannon’s entirely inappropriate yet hilarious (not to mention perfectly astute) outbursts as the troubled next-door neighbor on Revolutionary Road showcase him as, like Richard Jenkins, one of our most underappreciated talents.  Watch out for this one; he’s a firecracker.

 

Performance by an actress in a leading role

• Anne Hathaway in “Rachel Getting Married” (Sony Pictures Classics)
• Angelina Jolie in “Changeling” (Universal)
• Melissa Leo in “Frozen River” (Sony Pictures Classics)
• Meryl Streep in “Doubt” (Miramax)
• Kate Winslet in “The Reader” (The Weinstein Company)

This is a strange category for me, mostly because I don’t think any of them stand out from the rest. They are all extremely fine performances — that is, with one terrible exception: Meryl Streep, in accordance with the overblown mess that is Doubt, gives one of the most insufferably melodramatic performances of the year. [Because I have no where else to to voice my thoughts on the film (as it was, thankfully, not nominated), let it be said here and now that John Patrick Shanley has no business directing anything. While Streep should have enough sense to tone down her own performance, JPS's ridiculous "opening up" of the film to include intensely serious walks in the blustery leaf-strewn wind, and his bursting light bulbs (really?) and haphazardly directed screaming matches created an infuriatingly amateurish film that encouraged over-the-top performances and my own personal venom.]

All that being said, I would be equally happy for any of the nominees to win. Never a huge fan of Jolie, I found her performance lovely and surprisingly moving, and Hathaway’s harshly and heartbreakingly honest. Leo’s turn as a desperate mother illegaly assisting immigrants into the country is both subtle and layered. Winslet is in fine form, though I wish the ex-Nazi Hanna was better developed on the page; there is something lacking in the writing that Winslet doesn’t quite overcome (though I’m afraid I’m alone in this opinion).

 

Performance by an actress in a supporting role

• Amy Adams in “Doubt” (Miramax)
• Penélope Cruz in “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” (The Weinstein Company)
• Viola Davis in “Doubt” (Miramax)
• Taraji P. Henson in “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
• Marisa Tomei in “The Wrestler” (Fox Searchlight)

Despite JPS’s mutilation of his own script, he managed to get two fine performances in Doubt: both Adams and Davis are superb, but as the disturbingly frank mother of a possibly abused, possibly homosexual son, Davis possesses better odds at taking home the golden statue tonight. Never a fan of Cruz, she’s fiery and fun, but not Oscar-material in the lackluster Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and I don’t think anyone’s talking about Tomei’s performance that is largely noted for her consistent nudity (you look super-hot, Marisa, but that’s not quite enough for me).  Taraji P. Henson is causing quite a stir (though I preferred her in Hustle & Flow), and she may v. well receive the statue, but it seems to me that this one should go to Davis.

 

Best animated feature film of the year

• Bolt (Walt Disney)

• Kung Fu Panda (Dreamworks)

• WALL-E (Walt Disney)

Who are we kidding? The cutest ‘bot ever to roam planet Earth has got this category on lock-down.  While I’m not a fan of the film (check out my full review: http://criticalconfabulations.wordpress.com/2008/07/02/wall-e/), I must say the animation and characterization are stunning and fully deserve the accolades over fellow nominees Bolt (surprisingly cute, but with miscast voices in its animal leads — Travolta and Essman) and the Jack Black-show, Kung Fu Panda.

 

Achievement in art direction

• “Changeling” (Universal)
• “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)
• “The Dark Knight” (Warner Bros.)
• “The Duchess” (Paramount Vantage, Pathé and BBC Films)
• “Revolutionary Road” (DreamWorks, Distributed by Paramount Vantage)

 

There is very little I like about Benjamin Button, and I seem to be equally as unimpressed by the art direction as the rest of the film’s elements.  The muted earth tones and  narrative technique to “artful” flashbacks are over-earnest and over-employed, and give the film a sleepy look, which in turn, put me to sleep — literally. But the academy seems to like it, and honestly, besides makeup, this is its only chance in taking home an Oscar, and so it goes.

Revolutionary Road is certainly my biggest disappointment of the year. With a star-studded cast and director and a script adapted from an acclaimed novel, how did it all go so wrong? With the exceptions of DiCaprio (seriously? no best actor nom?) and Shannon, this is a pretty big clunker all-around.  Wallowing in closeted ’50s depression and pipe dreams, Mendes’s direction is misguided and quite  frankly, embarrassingly messy.  Does Kristi Zea and Debra Schutt’s art and set direction save the film?  No, but they certainly make it more watchable.

While The Duchess let me down (http://criticalconfabulations.wordpress.com/2008/09/18/theduchess/), Michael Carlin and Rebecca Alleway’s work certainly did not. The film is beautiful, and certainly deserves recognition for that. Alas, the over-wrought Benjamin Button will never allow for that.

 

Achievement in cinematography

• ”Changeling” (Universal)

• ”The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”The Dark Knight” (Warner Bros.)

• ”The Reader” (The Weinstein Company)

• ”Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

Cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle captures the vibrant beauty and amazing colors of Mumbai amidst the throngs of people and overpopulated slums. Considering the muted sensibilities of the other nominees, the vivid lighting and deft camera work makes Slumdog the clear standout.  

 

Achievement in costume design

 

• ”Australia” (20th Century Fox)

• ”The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”The Duchess” (Paramount Vantage, Pathé and BBC Films)

• ”Milk” (Focus Features)

• ”Revolutionary Road” (DreamWorks, Distributed by Paramount Vantage)

They don’t call it a costume drama for nothin’: The Duchess, with Michael O’Connor’s gorgeous gowns finely detailed with rich velvets, delicate laces, and astonishing jewels is sure to take home the prize.  (Milk?  Seriously?) Oh — does it matter that I somehow missed seeing Australia?  I didn’t think so.

Achievement in directing

• “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”Frost/Nixon” (Universal)

• ”Milk” (Focus Features)

• ”The Reader” (The Weinstein Company)

• “Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

Have you seen Slumdodg Millionaire?  Because if you have, you know there’s no contest here. Danny Boyle works wonders with the enormously formulaic conceit that in lesser hands would have been cloying, and let’s be honest, fairly uninteresting. Boyle grabs our attention from the initial moment and never lets up: the work is fresh and intense, fast-paced, and sentimental in the best possible way — ie., minimally. And let’s not forget the amazing performances he manages to pull from three of the most adorable and talented kids ever to grace the silver screen.  No one’s work comes close to Boyle’s this year (especially Fincher’s work on Button, which feels like an epically emotionless dead weight), though respect for Ron Howard went up in my book, considering his adroit techniques and quietly astute perceptiveness utilized in creating an intriguing and thoughtful  character study.  In what could have been another static mishap of a play-turned-film (by now you know to which sadly rendered film I refer), Howard scores.

Achievement in film editing

• ”The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”The Dark Knight” (Warner Bros.)

• ”Frost/Nixon” (Universal)

• ”Milk” (Focus Features)

• ”Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

Again, the clear winner here is Slumdog. Chris Dickens’s masterful editing makes us forget about the potential annoyance of such a formulaic narrative structure.   We are pulled in and around locations and times with deft expertise and fluid transitions, creating concise and intense scenes and emotionally-packed moments. This is the work of an editor who is clearly in sync with his director.

      

Achievement in makeup

• ”The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”The Dark Knight” (Warner Bros.)

• ”Hellboy II: The Golden Army” (Universal)

While Ledger’s pale visage smeared with red lipstick and smudged black eyes is already an icon of creepiness, there’s no mistaking who this award is going to: Greg Cannom’s talent to age the seemingly ageless Mr. Pitt from old-young to young-old has got this award sealed.  

Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)

O…Saya: http://sound12.mp3pk.com/indian/slumdog_millionaire/slumdog_millionaire01(www.songs.pk).mp3

• “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

•”Defiance” (Paramount Vantage)

•”Milk” (Focus Features)

•”Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

• “WALL-E” (Walt Disney)

Despite my unfortunate missing of Defiance (really, I can’t imagine how that happened…), amidst the rest of the nominees, there’s no real competition: A.R. Rahman’s vibrant and entrancing score with pounding dance beats to spare perfectly captures the people and locale of his film, Slumdog Millionaire, as none of the other nominees does.

Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)

Jai Ho:

http://sound12.mp3pk.com/indian/slumdog_millionaire/slumdog_millionaire13(www.songs.pk).mp3

• ”Down to Earth” from “WALL-E” (Walt Disney)

• ”Jai Ho” from “Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

• ”O Saya” from “Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

Along with best score, Rahman is also taking home a golden boy for the uplifting, dance-worthy, smile-inducing vibrancy of the pumping dance rhythm that vividly conjures a people and their culture: Jai Ho.

 

Achievement in sound editing AND sound mixing

  

Let’s not bother with the other nominees: both awards will go to The Dark Knight (Warner Bros.).

 

  

Achievement in visual effects

Clearly this is going to my least favorite film of the year: Benjamin Button.  I would pick The Dark Knight if only because it is an infinitely better film, and unlike Benjamin, Knight’s effects managed to keep me awake, but keep me utterly compelled.

    

Adapted screenplay

• “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”Doubt” (Miramax)

• ”Frost/Nixon” (Universal)

• ”The Reader” (The Weinstein Company)

• ”Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

How one manages to turn a short story into a three hour bore-fest, only screenwriter Eric Roth knows (Benjamin Button) and we’ve already covered JPS’s ridiculous missteps Doubt. Again, screenwriter Simon Beaufoy creates gold out of dross with Slumdog’s narrative.

 

Original screenplay

 

• “Frozen River” (Sony Pictures Classics)

• ”Happy-Go-Lucky” (Miramax)

• ”In Bruges” (Focus Features)

• ”Milk” (Focus Features)

• ”WALL-E” (Walt Disney)

While the quirky Happy-Go-Lucky longs to be this year’s Juno, it sadly is not, and we all know that I think WALL-E is a mess of two films smushed into one. In Bruges wins a partial vote from me because only the talented likes of  Martin McDonagh could bring out a charming likeability from Colin Farrell, but there isn’t nearly enough of McDonagh’s deliciously violent humor here. Frozen River receives my other half-vote because it puts on display an under-covered topic and does without preachiness or overt sentimentality. 

Unfortunately, Milk will win. A complete mess of a film, screenwriter Dustin Lance Black never knows what kind of film he wishes to write. A documentary? Maybe. A drama? Perhaps. We go inconsistently back and forth between the two forms. The film only captured my interest when it offered up clips of the real people involved with the issues and controversies of the time. Overly ambitious, Black attempts to cover everything, and as a result, I left the theatre never feeling as though I knew the man behind the title — or any of his supporters or detractors — and worse than that, I didn’t feel for him either. A big disappointment, but for a reason that is still unclear to me, one that will take home my favorite award of the night.

 

 

 

Best motion picture of the year

 

• ”The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (Paramount and Warner Bros.)

• ”Frost/Nixon” (Universal)

• ”Milk” (Focus Features)

•  ”The Reader” (The Weinstein Company)

• ”Slumdog Millionaire” (Fox Searchlight)

Because it shows us the best and the worst of human nature and happily melds art and mainstream. Because it boasts a terrific ensemble cast, superior direction and editing, beautiful cinematography, an ultimately uplifting and entertaining story coupled with complex, sympathetic characters and set to a buoyant score. Because it’s that rare cinematic package in which everything and everyone works perfectly and brilliantly together: Slumdog Millionaire is the best film of 2008.

 

 

Despite my best efforts to see and review all nominees, I failed in completing the following categories: Documentary Feature, Documentary Short Subject, Foreign Language, Animated Short Film, and Live Action Short Film. When listed like that, my efforts appear sadly lackluster.

Harvey Gets His Chance

I’m not 45. Not even close, in fact.  Marketing campaigns have made it clear that such an age is the key ingredient — along with the obligatory vagina, of course — needed to enjoy Last Chance Harvey, a quiet romance about the middleaged and unassuming discovering that there’s always one more shot at love…and life.

Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson offer beautifully simple performances as Harvey Shine and Kate Walker.  He, the self-proclaimed “vulgar American” and unenthusiastic jingle writer who once dreamt of jazz pianist fame, needs to make amends with his estranged daughter on the eve of her London wedding. She, the quintessential emotionally reserved Brit, perfunctorily collects surveys from airline passengers for a living and dreads her infrequent – and frequently bad – blind dates.  Clearly it’s kismet that the two meet, spend a single blissful day together, and…live happily ever after?  Are the middleaged even allowed to do that?

That’s the entire premise of writer-director Joel Hopkins’s cliché-riddled film.  The weird thing is, it actually works.  Let’s not kid ourselves: it’s more than difficult to make an utterly original movie these days, particularly within the overstuffed realm of the romantic comedy.  And Hopkins steals from some of our most beloved weepies: his entire cinematic concept echoes a Before Sunset in in the twilight years of life, but there’s also the scene in which Harvey serenades Kate with his sultry piano skills in an vacant hotel ballroom (a la Pretty Woman) and the fact that any potential romance for Kate ends before it begins thanks to a loved one’s incessant phone calls and constant clinginess (Love Actually).  And I can’t even begin to name all one hundred-plus rom-coms that utilize the estranged relative device, but they’re there, in abundance, workin’ hard for the tears and sympathy (here, a little Meet the Fockers painful awkwardness is thrown in for good measure). There isn’t one person who can’t relate to daddy/mommy issues, and the traditional rom-com knows this and exploits it to usually comic effect, but here it does so subtly and surprisingly effectively.

But Harvey has one thing going for it that almost no other love-centric flick does: real, honest-to-goodness age.  And I’m not talking about the wisdom that comes with it either. I mean the actual years – with the frown lines to prove it. Dustin and Emma, in their 50+ years, present an intriguing picture to those like me, in their 20s, unsure of their ability to relate to such, shall we say, seasoned characters.  But working within the same tired frame of romantic leads half their ages is exactly what’s so alluring.  To see Thompson as Kate, dreamily gazing out a bus window, and nearly bursting out of her skin for the pure giddiness of meeting someone she is utterly surprised to so fancy, and then moments later, to see that unadulterated happiness break down into the depths of disappointment and heartache when the older object of her affection fails to show for the fairytale-like meeting… It’s not until then that the realization hits that the one thing that does not change with age is the dizzy anticipation of meeting a new love and the tragic loneliness of rejection. Absurdly obvious as this is, Hopkins’ film portrays this “last chance” at love with such tenderness and honesty that is not until Kate tearfully inquires how their cross-the-pond romance could work, and Harvey tenderly, and with a quiet confidence responds, “I don’t know. But it will,” that I understand the difference between 20-something and 50-something romances: silver-haired Harvey isn’t going to let the wonderfully feisty Kate slip away, because he’s finally able to recognize that she is the chance he was waiting for.

 

Knightley’s Duchess Shines in an Uninspired Period Piece

Last night, after more than willingly being wined and dined, I, in my rather happily besotted state, was introduced to Georgiana, an impeccably dressed, lovely young woman of eighteen years of age who was abundantly pleased and honored to be selected for marriage by the Duke of Devonshire.  Perhaps “honored” isn’t exactly the right word for it: poor Georgiana, after all, was about to enter a formal and loveless marriage to the rather stiff and dull Duke, who would show his two similarly personality-deficient mongrels more affection than he ever would his own wife and children.  Throughout the course of their opulent aristocratic existence, Georgiana would painfully discover the selfishness and desperation of the women of her time; that, in truth, marriage is always a “duty,” never a joy; and that every woman must sacrifice her own happiness for that of her children – who, one day, will inevitably do the same for their own luckless progeny.

If the sentiments and situations of screenwriter Jeffrey Hatcher’s The Duchess appear all too familiar, that’s because they are.  While we’ve been transported from France to England, and there’s a distinct lack of excessive parties, decadent desserts, and an insanely awesome shoe collection, and certainly everyone’s head remains firmly attached to the body, The Duchess does remind us a bit of Sophia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, as well as countless other films that deal with the constricted lives of the softer sex in periods past.  While Saul Dibb’s direction is more classic costume drama in its elegant simplicity than stunning in its stylishness (as Coppola’s work was), his softer and more reserved tone is supported by Gyula Pados’s lush and sweeping cinematography that fittingly reminds us of that acclaimed period piece (Pride & Prejudice) that also boasts the waifish yet sassily strong-willed Keira Knightley.

 

Knightley

 

 

Knightley gives one of her finest and most affecting performances to date as the Duchess of Devonshire (and yes, I’ll go so far as to say her skills here are even more stunning than those she demonstrated in Atonement).  With every personal disappointment and  societal restriction that is forced upon Georgiana, this young and quite talented actress reacts honestly and flawlessly:  composed and refined on the surface, Georgiana’s heartache and fire are kept in check, always subtly visible on Knightley’s delicate porcelain doll face, but never overcoming, and we feel our own guts wrench as we know hers must at such trying times.  Only once does G – as her husband familiarly (and therefore strangely) refers to her –  allow her composure to crumble, and only when her maternal feelings and warmth are questioned, but even then, only for the briefest of moments.  But oh, how we feel her suffering thanks to Knightley’s keenly nuanced depiction of the Duchess’s difficulties.   Ralph Fiennes is the cold, distant, and unfeeling husband who refuses G’s every pleasure – even that of a lover, though he himself takes on a myriad of mistresses.  As per usual, Fiennes doesn’t disappoint, though it would be nice to see him play a role that requires a bit of warmth and emotion at some point.  

While the entire cast is lovely and in sync, all offering gratifyingly subtle performances (thank goodness Mama Mia! and History Boys’s Dominic Cooper – playing G’s lover – is finally given a decent vehicle through which to demonstrate his fine abilities), they can never quite make us forget that what we’re watching, we’ve all seen before.  Not only that, but we’ve seen it done better.  Georgiana Spencer didexist in 18th century England, and she is well-known as being one of the very first celebrities, as well as a politically active feminine figure for her time.  But does the film capitalize on these choice characteristics?  No. Rather, her importance as a British cultural and historical icon (and one who contemporary women could certainly relate to) is offered in the form of only slightly interesting, yet entirely throwaway tidbits that actually, when they appear, are quite irksome as they take away from what the film raises as the main issue at hand: will the spirited G ever leave that dastardly Duke?  As tame as the film’s politics are, it does attempt to make some kind of comment on freedom, which theme is not exactly seamlessly woven throughout the plot, and which never appears to resolve itself through the film’s uninspiring conclusion (if one can call it that).

Despite its lack of fervor in meaning and topicality, The Duchess offers many wonderful moments brimming with quiet, yet deeply felt emotions thanks largely due to the dedicated and sensitive Knightley.  Will Oscar be a-buzzin’ ’round everyone’s favorite British It Girl?  Unfortunately, I think Knightley’s intuitive and moving performance is not flashy enough to draw attention to this quiet film and its creators, but one hopes that it will draw her to films more worthy of her high caliber of talent.

Just Cut It Already

I’ve never cared for long hair on guys – to me, they just look dirty and disheveled.  Perhaps then it would have been best had I grown up in the 50s so that lengthy locks could have some kind of traumatic effect on me.   It may come as no surprise, then, that I was not one of the thousands tonight at the Delacorte Theater who were proudly sporting their tye dye tees and enthusiastically bopping their heads and tapping their feet to the new sounding musical that captured the nation’s attention and acclaim back in 1968.  

This isn’t going to be one of my typical posts, as I don’t wish to review the Public’s production of that revolutionary rock ‘n’ roll musical, Hair.  The production was well-directed, well-acted, well-sung, well-costumed, etc.  I’ve heard nothing but good things from everyone regarding it, so there’s no point in my rehashing what everyone has already said.  

What struck me, however, was that while I was walking out of the theatre and through Central Park, Iwanted so badly to continue the groove of the rock showtunes.  But I didn’t want to let the sunshine in.  Instead, I skimmed through my ipod playlists, pressed play, and contentedly settled back in my seat on the train as I heard “December 24th, 9 P.M., Eastern Standard Time…”  While this particular show came nearly 30 years after the shock of such blatant song titles as “Sodomy” and “Hashish,” it too revolutionized musical theatre with its exploration of a timely and disturbing topic.

HAIR lacks luster in 2008.

The difference?  I like Rent.  I love Rent.  I’m not a Renthead or anything, but I dig it.  I get it.  The music makes me move and yearn to sing along, and the characters and situation move me.  Move me to tears, every time, to be completely honest, and if I want to embarrass myself even further, I’ve seen the show more times than any other (except perhaps my thesis show).  

Audiences have faithfully paid RENT since 1996.

So why don’t I care for Hair?  Rent is certainly steeped in its historical time just as much as Hair is, but Rent stays effective because it boasts fleshed-out, wholly sympathetic and entirely song-worthy characters.  In this time of war, you can defend Hair’s continuing topicality all you want, but the problem is it’s not shocking anymore.  The controversy is gone.  Very few are pro-war these days, and even fewer are traumatized by lyrics such as “black boys are delicious.”  The show simply no longer possesses the gut-wrenching punch it once did, and the hippie culture is one only my parents’ generation and those older than them can truly appreciate.  Hair has turned into a nostalgic piece.  What’s more, besides a terrific few, some of the songs are horribly awkward and ill-conceived.  ”Frank Mills” was entirely cringe-inducing and not because of Allison Case’s performance.  She was singing all of the correct notes, yet the notes weren’t correct.  The song lacks melody, and uncomfortably so, and boasts some truly awful lyrics.  

What I appreciate about Hair is that it’s so theatrical and can really incorporate the audience and almost trick those unwilling to engage in its politics.  The Public’s production did not engage the audience as much as I would’ve liked, but it certainly hinted at the musical’s possibilities to stimulate and interact with everyone.  Unfortunately, none of that is enough in 2008.  Declaring hair as a symbol of rebellion causes my eyes to roll, and a black female Abe Lincoln makes me yawn.  We’ve seen this all before, and it was much more powerful in 1968.

Now I’m not about to defend Rent as an artistic masterpiece.  It’s not.  But where Hair only outlinesits characters in an almost Brechtian way, Rent offers flesh and blood.  Yeah, there’s awkward lyrics here and there, and yes, there are musical sequences I wish Jonathan Larsen had had the presence of mind to cut before his premature death (helloooo, “Contact.”  Oy).  But I care about lesbian-loving Mark and self-absorbed Roger more than enough to follow them on their journey – and then return to it, time and time again.  I’m sure a bit of it has to do with the fact that Rent’s historical pertinence touches me more than Hair’s:  I did, after all, grow up in the 80s and 90s when the AIDS epidemic was at its full and terrifying height, when grunge was the latest fashion fad, and when rock was forcefully re-emerging amidst a pop-addled music scene.  I have no immediate connection to Vietnam, the fierce rebellion against domesticity, or the need to find a spiritual center through mind-altering drugs – but clearly, as the enthusiastic audience at the Delacorte Theater this past Thursday night demonstrated, I’m one of the few.

So why is that?  And why did it even occur to me to compare these two musicals?  Because they’re both musically revolutionary?  Both rock-based?  Steeped in their historical periods?  All I can say is that I think there’s a reason that Rent has almost without break been firmly ensconced on Broadway and constantly on tour since its 1996 premiere, and that Hair has never had a lasting revival or an endlessly revolving tour.  From my own experience, timelessness in theatre seems to result from its humanity and the relatability of its characters, if not of its specific situations.  Future generations may never fully understand how AIDS ravaged our country, but they’ll feel Collin’s pain at losing a loved one to the disease.  When the cast parted during Hair’s finale to reveal Claude lying dead on the American flag, I didn’t feel anything.  

Then again, maybe that’s more a comment on the state of the country than on the musical itself.

What a Bunch of [tossers]

 

An Original Musical? Not so much. (Top: Jeff Bowen; Bottom: Hunter Bell)

[tossers]: what an apt moniker for fans of the little-show-that-could, [title of show], which debuted on June 17^th at the Lyceum Theatre.  Whoever came up with that fan name clearly is not British, or if so, thinks he or she is just as clever and witty as the show itself – which is to say, not very.

 

 

[tos] is a show about making a show, something we’ve seen many times before in incantations which were much more joyful and funny and that offered some kind of artistic merit (42^nd Street comes to mind).  Here, creator-stars Jeff Bowen (music lyrics) and Hunter Bell (book) outline their not entirely original journey from the inkling of a show possibility as they sit squandering time away in their respective New York apartments to the festival circuit to their hit off-Broadway run to finally hitting the big time on “The Broadway,” as they like to call it.   I hear that the You Tube campaign launched to create buzz for the show – in which they created a video-log of their attempts to approach individual Broadway theatres in a charming effort to convince them to produce the show – was a hoot, but unfortunately, it’s only referred to in passing in the show.  Why they didn’t utilize some film projections so as to incorporate them is beyond me.  It may have added some much needed production quality – and genuine humor – to the show. 

Now don’t get me wrong:  Bowen and Bell are endlessly endearing in their love for all things musical theatre, and their earnestness to create a successful show with artistic merit is awfully admirable.  But when they sing of their plight to create “An Original Musical” and later compare their own “risk-taking” to that of such renowned and innovative creative teams as Kander and Ebb (The Rink), Comden and Green (On the Town), they simply point towards their own creative inadequacies.  Bowen’s tunes, while catchy for the most part, are not really theatrical, and Bell’s book is simply uninspired and not as funny as he wants – and needs – it to be.  There are constant jokes that center on obscure musical references that you’ll only get if you’re “in the know” (Bowen sings lyrics from the notorious flop, Henry, Sweet Henry, for example) or if you’ve just starred in a community theatre production of Into the Woods (there are at least three lyrical references to that Sondheim fairy tale favorite).  The guys are charming and full of energy, though, and equally so are their two friends who eagerly round out the cast:  Heidi Blickenstaff, the powerhouse voice, and Susan Blackwell, the quirky character actress.  I’d like to say that the cast is so much better than the material they are performing, but that would only do them a disservice.

What it really comes down to is this:  [tos] has no business being on Broadway.  Bowen and Bell’s amazing persistence and determination defied all odds, but my guess is this 4-man-4-chairs-1-keyboard show won’t be there for long.  What is essentially a tiresome variant on the Forbidden Broadway-style that would (and did) happily succeed ensconced in a cozy off-Broadway theatre, maintains only a niche following here; the majority of the tourist-spectators (which only filled half the auditorium when I was there on a Monday – a night which doesn’t afford much competition as the majority of Broadway theatres are dark) frequently turn to their just-as-bewildered companions with a mystified look as if to say, “We’re paying $100 for this?  Monkeys and Vampires?  I don’t get it.”  Broadway productions come with expectations – fair or not – and if a work isn’t musically inventive, it should at the very least have some wonderfully unnecessary pyro (a la Carrie’s hands aflame), Drew Lachey, or a roller skating mermaid or two.  The thing is, I’m a self-proclaimed musical theatre whore and I don’t get [tos]’s draw either.  [title of show], far from being my favorite thing, is not even my ninth favorite thing.  [tos] that.

A Rather Sad “Affair”

Despite overcast skies and that tangible feeling of impending rain, 48th St. on Sunday afternoon exuded happy anticpation with its line of chatty theatergoers and group of smiling producers who milled about with a sense of satisfied ease.  The atmosphere inside the Walter Kerr Theatre, however, more closely mirrored the weather outside:  only 90 minutes later, emotions would run high and fast, and there would be flowers, many tears, and a wistful farewell speech.

But is anyone really surprised that A Catered Affair, which walked away empty-handed from both the Tonys and the Drama Desk Awards, would close on July 28 after only 116 performances?  What many describe as a chamber musical – my favourite vague and most unnecessary categorization since “concept musical” – this melancholy little musical with its understated score and realistic (ie. imperfectly rhymed and not quite eloquent) lyrics by John Bucchino, in his first attempt at the Broadway book musical, is based on an original teleplay by Paddy Chayefsky as filmed by Gore Vidal.  Penning the sober book is Broadway favourite Harvey Fierstein who gave himself the only few laughs in the production as the flamboyant live-in uncle of the Hurley family.  When Jane (Leslie Kritzer) announces to Ma and Pa Hurley that she wishes to elope with beau Ralph Halloran (an under-utilized Matt Cavenaugh, last seen in the much more interesting Grey Gardens), she offers the only dramatic impetus in a show built solely around the theme of marriage.  The Bronx family is scraping by in an apparently loveless 1950s marriage as father Tom attempts to start a new business in a desperate attempt to give his family a better life – all the while dealing with the recent death of their only son in the war and desiring to give their oft-neglected daughter a wedding to remember. 

Celebrated director John Doyle, instead of enriching the emotion and intimacy necessary for such a small musical, offers sparse and rather cold staging.  Presumably to compliment the rather thin book and score, Doyle places gossiping housewives on various flats representing apartment levels (David Gallo’s set is reminiscent of a more bare bones West Side Story fire escape), and the actors wander back and forth across only a small portion of the stage.  It appears that without instruments in hand, Mr. Doyle, famous (notorious, perhaps?) for his use of actor-musicians in the recent revivals of Sweeney Todd and Company, was unable to manipulate the large space to create a necessary intimacy.  As it was, the large Broadway house swallowed the Hurleys whole; this small and curious musical, like so many others in past years, suffered largely because it simply did not belong on the Great White Way.

Had Affair been placed in a smaller space, with audience and actors in closer connection, it may have effectively pulled spectators into the emotional undercurrents of the show, despite the understated dialogue and the score that never soars to emotional heights or even offers a standard Broadway melody to hum along to.  Not that Bucchino should be limited by such expectations: the score’s conceit of offering a constant undercurrent to the show (much dialogue is underscored) that allows the performers to weave out of spoken, and into sung, dialogue is an interesting and certainly a valid one for a show in which the characters are so ordinary and emotionally reserved that they would never, ever sing.  While this quiet and rather unmelodic score suits the conservative Hurleys, it does not, however, offer an inspired or cathartic evening at the theatre.  

Fortunately for Mr. Bucchino, Affair was lucky enough to gather the extraordinary talents of Tom Wopat as Tom Hurely and Faith Prince as his wife, Aggie.  While the score may deny the Hurleys the dramatic motivation and emotional release they so achingly need, Wopat and Prince rise above the constraints of the show and offer audiences performances filled with pain, longing, bitterness, and defeat.  It is not when Tom angrily retorts to his wife in song, “I Stayed,” that we recognize and actuallyfel his suffering, but in the tortured look he gives her when she states that their marriage is and has always been loveless.  And it is not when Aggie offers her “Vision” of a perfect wedding that we truly see what she has sacrificed and denied herself all of these years; it is when Prince is left sitting in a chair, disconsolately staring off into an empty room that we feel the deep sadness that is within her character.  Musical scores need not heighten emotions nor cause us to leave the theatre humming a happy tune, but their selection as a method of storytelling should be of a more inspired reason:  if the characters are not emotionally capable of singing, as Bucchino’s constant spoken/sung and subdued score implies, why set their story to music at all?    Not a rhetorical question at all, but perhaps one that writers and producers alike should more thoughtfully consider when taking on such a project. 

* * *

Outside, a few persistent raindrops fought to break through the thick air surrounding the Walter Kerr. Inside, during their final curtain call, the cast of A Catered Affair, after ninety straight minutes of restrained emotion, was finally allowed a moment of release.  

And the rain felt good.

 

Yankees Has a Lotta “Heart”

 

Jackson and Krakowski are "Two Lost Souls" in New York City Center's limited engagement of Damn Yankees (photo credit Newsday/Ari Mintz)

Having heard mixed reviews, I walked into the City Center not sure what to expect.  While I’ve always had a soft spot for The Pajama Game (due mostly to its clever and tuneful score/lyrics), I knew that the musical-making team of Richard Adler and Jerry Ross, while promising, was short-lived due to Ross’s untimely death at age 29 only months after the Broadway premiere of Yankees. One can only imagine the varied and talented work he and Adler would have accomplished together had they only had the time.

As the second and, sadly, final of their two shows together, Damn Yankees charmingly capitalizes on America’s favorite pastime during the height of baseball’s popularity in the 50s.  Meg is frustrated with her husband Joe, a loyal and exasperated fan of the rather lackluster Washington Senators, who spends more time yelling at the bungling ballplayers on television than he does affectionately conversing with her.  When Joe encounters the commanding and delectably devilish Mr. Applegate, he rashly sells his soul – with added escape clause, of course, him being a real estate man and all  - for a shot to become the brilliant ballplayer who can take his cherished Senators all the way.  

While George Abbott and Douglass Wallop’s Faustian book is quaint and rather simplistic, the actors make the most of it, and there are some very fine performances.  Will and Grace star, Sean Hayes, was clearly the audience favorite, as he evoked an off-handedly facetious and smooth Satan who gamely attempts to corrupt the upright – and verging on dull – “Shoeless” Joe Hardy (the charming and beautifully voiced Cheyenne Jackson) to enter into an affair with his sexy protege, Lola (the flexible and engaging Jane Krakowski).  Hayes may not be the strongest singer, but with only one musical number – the sardonic and show-stopping “Those Were the Good Old Days” – he brings the house down, accompanying himself on the piano (”Yes, I’m really playing”) and delightfully playing directly the to the audience.

While the stars shine, giving sparkle to the many memorable songs, the production goes a bit awry whenever it attempts to showcase the signature Fosse choreography. Choreographer Mary MacLeod attempts to faithfully recreate the dancing man’s famously strict movements – snapping fingers, tilted bowler hats, isolated hips and shoulders – but the ensemble never quite masters the master.  A bit sloppy, the dances are never as sharp and contained as they should be.  What’s more, the Fosse style appears oddly anachronistic in a baseball musical that takes place in the conservative 50s, and its presence in this production only serves to highlight those superfluous numbers that were added for Yankees’s original star (Gwen Verdon) and/or to showcase Fosse’s talent.  To this point, the mambo number (”Who’s Got the Pain?”) performed by Joe’s fan club as the act one closer is baffling and frustratingly unintegrated.  While Fosse’s sharp and isolated style adds to and develops a show like Sweet Charity which takes place in a 60s dance hall, it fails to characterize Yankees, and unfortunately, director John Rando’s staging doesn’t help: transitions between dance numbers and dialogue are awkward and stilted. 

Despite its choreographic flaws and the somewhat dated book, City Center’s Damn Yankees offers an overall charming evening at the theatre, and the two individuals largely to be accredited for such success are the musical makers themselves, Adler and Ross.  With the wistful ballad “A Man Doesn’t Know,” the bouncy and infectious “Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, MO,” and the seductive “Whatever Lola Wants,” Yankees can’t help but steal your “Heart.”

Jeff Daniels’s Singing Cowboy Never Quite Hits that High Note

When I heard that Jeff Daniels’s new play was a musical comedy about a singing cowboy, there was no way I was going to pass that up.  While Daniels has maintained a vast and varied film career, acting in everything from family fare (101 Dalmations) to indie gems (The Squid and the Whale) to politically-charged Oscar winners (Good Night, and Good Luck), he’s also a playwright and founder of The Purple Rose Theatre Company in his hometown of Chelsea, Michigan, a small town just west of Ann Arbor.  Though he’s certainly pulled off some serious – and seriously good – fare in the past (his The Guest Artist, about the meeting at a bus station of a young playwright and his not-so-green mentor, covers art and politics and everything in between and is both moving and philosophically engaging), he’s probably best-known in theatre circles for Escanaba in da Moonlight, his Dumb and Dumber-esque comedy about life in Northern Michigan that essentially revolves around much hunting shtick and many, many flatulence jokes.  So, knowing Daniels’s previous work, I assumed that Panhandle Slim and the Oklahoma Kid would be something akin to an utterly ridiculous musical comedy adaptation of Brokeback Mountain.  But you know what they say about assuming things…

Panhandle, though a musical comedy of sorts (it’s more of a “play with songs”), is more about showcasing Daniels’s original music (which is tuneful, but not exactly essential to developing plot or character) than it is about making anyone laugh.  It tells the simple story of a wayward outlaw who provokes the wrong cowpoke, thus getting himself shot, tied up, and left to die an amazingly slow death under the sweltering prairie sun (a sun which the audience can practically feel thanks to lighting designer Reid Johnson’s warm, glowing tones).  Luckily for Slim (and for us), a singing cowboy saunters onto the scene, wielding a guitar instead of a gun, and proceeds to sporadically humor us for the seemingly long remainder of the ninety minute show.  Thanks to his Monty Python-styled giddy-up and his impeccable comic timing, John Seibert’s Oklahoma Kid is a shining advert for living unconcernedly and reveling in a happy-go-lucky attitude. Unfortunately, Daniels’s play and Guy Sanville’s direction allow too few opportunities for Seibert to really shine, and instead waste too much time on strange flashback sequences in which we are introduced to Slim’s would-be love (if only he would learn to be good!), played by Jessica Garrett with a lovely lilt to her vocal lines, and the man he wronged (Phil Powers).

Panhandle Slim perpetually repeats jokes that aren’t all that funny in the first place and does so in between not-exactly-profound discussions of the meaning of life.  It’s an odd mix that doesn’t work effectively because the play only touches on those deeper themes, never delving into them, and the comedic portions aren’t nearly light and charming enough to seamlessly transition between and infiltrate the philosophical discussions.  While Daniels’s past efforts with comedy and not-so-usual settings (I can’t imagine there exists many plays set in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula) and styles worked in his favor, it’s no wonder that this production represents the sixth draft of a play for which he claims “th characters led the way.”  Could anyone expect more than a few stale jokes and halfhearted attempts at serious discussion from a balladeering broncobuster and a feckless fugitive?  Maybe not, but based on the many unamused faces I observed during the show, I don’t think I was the only one assuming things.