Theatre Review: Magic/Bird

Kevin Daniels and Tug Coker as Magic and Bird, respectively. Photo: Joan Marcus.

The writing-directing team that brought us last year’s football favorite Lombardi offer  up another sports bio-drama, this time of the basketball variety. Magic/Bird may not have the satisfying heft of the meat-and-potatoes family drama that Lombardi did, but thankfully it has a director with a musicality of movement that keeps things bouncing along both on and off-court.

Following the unlikely bond between the L.A. Lakers’s gregarious Earvin “Magic” Johnson and the Boston Celtics’s aloof Larry Bird, Magic/Bird touches on the super-rivalry between the two b-ball greats in the ’80s. We look on as the Lakers and Celtics duel over the championship title, with each team winning every other year, while also tossing the MVP title back and forth between the two key players. Magic and Bird officially meet during the filming of a Nike commercial (naturally), and that was that — the two become fast friends for life.

Despite the inherent drama of athletic competition and the Odd Couple humor of the Bird and Magic pairing, Eric Simonson’s play keeps it (s)light: the vertically blessed Kevin Daniels (Magic) and Tug Coker (Bird) give likable performances, but if it wasn’t for Jeff Sugg’s dazzling videos of the real Magic and Bird that multiply and diverge, creating an irising effect of LED displays, we might forget  that, yeah, these are real men with depths of character and history that we may never be privy to. Because when things get a little heavy  in Magic/Bird — Magic becomes HIV+ when the world had no idea what that really meant — the playwright glosses over  that to quickly get back to the buddy comedy trope. We’re not really given the opportunity  to question Magic’s marriage or his promiscuity, we never get beyond the wall that the tight-lipped Bird carefully built around his personal life, and we don’t even really witness an intense rivalry. Maybe the play doesn’t dig too deep because the source material just isn’t that deep. Maybe, but I doubt it: the play could use more Magic/Bird and a little less NBA stats.

Thankfully, there’s director Thomas Kail (who also helmed Lombardi), who gives the lightly-sketched fare a nice breeziness of movement and tone that helps us forget that basketball is better filmed than staged. Making good use of David Korins’s raised basketball-court stage and aided by the impressive bouncy-slick sound design by Nevin Steinberg (Acme Sound Partners, Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo), Kail moves his key players on and around the stage as though choreographing a musical number, and not a basketball play. It works admirably well (it should — he directed In the Heights), and while things keep moving at a swift and satisfying pace, he also manages some fine performances from the supporting cast: most notably, Deirdre O’Connell (Circle Mirror Transformation) as Bird’s frank and funny stat-spouting mom.

Many theatre folks may not appreciate the topic of this sports show and others may find it a bit surface-y, but the enthusiastic house proves there’s certainly an audience out there, just as there was for Lombardi before it. Magic/Bird is the show you can easily bring that culturally-adverse relative to; I’m confident your dad will love it.

Magic/Bird
Longacre Theatre
220 West 48th Street
New York, NY 10036
Performances from March 21 — open-ended
Opened  April 11, 2012

Oscars 2011: Best Original Screenplay

Note: This is my personal ranking, listed in order from best to worst, with #1 being my favorite. Prediction for the actual winner is in orange.

BEST ORIGINAL SCRE ENPLAY

1. Another Year

2. The Kids Are All Right

3. The Fighter

4. Inception

5. The King’s Speech

Missing: Blue Valentine, Greenberg

The fact that this award will go to the worst-written nominee should tell you a little something about this year’s competition, as well as the Academy. Considering the unspoken rule of awarding the nominee with the most previous nominations and least wins, one would assume Mike Leigh would be going home with a little gold guy for Another Year. And he should, as his work is above and beyond the accomplishments of the other nominees. Leigh — also the sensitive, yet invasive director of the film — quietly unfolds the tangle of relationships built around class, meritocracy, and happiness (or the lack thereof). By introducing us to the effortless and contented and truly modest joy of one couple only to subtly contrast it with the inexplicably luckless lives of two of their languishing friends, Leigh questions the very idea of happiness and why some have it always and other never do, no matter how hard they try. A complex and nuanced exploration of ideas and relationships and ideas of relationships, Another Year is one of the saddest, un-showiest, most thoughtful films of the year. The fact that this category contains its sole nomination is shameful, and that it will go away from the night without even this token of its merit is just plain depressing.

Also depressing is the absence of Blue Valentine, the wrenching dissolution of a relationship that (d)evolves over a span of years through cross-cuttings between the tummy-butterfly beginning and the shockingly indifferent ending. Was its exclusion because of the improvisational nature of the piece (if so, Another Year should be missing as well)? As we know, the Academy largely considers dialogue when voting, not structure, and BV relies heavily on the latter. And while Noah Baumbach’s films always heavily rely on (overly self-aware, highly intelligent) dialogue, clearly I was alone in hoping for a nomination for Greenberg.

The four remaining nominees are underwhelming, most especially the clear winner. While The King’s Speech maintains a clear trajectory (overcoming a disability! the king speaks!) and is chockfull of pithy, “clever” exchanges, the only character development that occurs on screen is thanks to the effortful performances of the first-rate cast. Unfortunately for Christopher Nolan, Inception is all high-concept with little follow-through, and while on the surface the film is highly imaginative, the writing is not, and one of the most “mind-blowing” endings of the year actually became one of the most disappointing. The Fighter, much like The King’s Speech, is a winner due to its cast, not its overly-familiar boxing narrative. If it wins (it won’t), it would be because the Academy loves it some true stories (but it loves it some true historical stories more). If by some miracle The King’s Speech goes away empty-handed, and Mike Leigh is once again snubbed, the winner should be The Kids Are All Right. The lesbian-couple-raising-kids-with-the-help-of-an-anonymous-sperm-donor has a narrative novelty that can’t be overlooked, but it’s also, underneath its American-family-comedy surface, surprisingly insightful and emotionally complex. It’s the evening’s dark horse that actually has a shot at overcoming B-B-Bertie’s big Speech.

Oscars 2010: Best Actor + Actress in a Leading Role

Note: My personal rankings are listed in order from best to least accomplished, with #1 being my favorite, while predictions for the actual winners appear in orange.

BEST ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE

1. Helen Mirren
The Last Station

1. Sandra Bullock
The Blind Side

3. Carey Mulligan
An Education

4. Meryl Streep
Julie and Julia

5. Gabourey Sidibe
Precious

This is a surprisingly difficult category for me to order, as all of these women are tremendous. The slight one exception is Gabourey Sidibe as Precious, the severely obese and abused Harlem teen. With a face so round and full that her eyes always form unintentional slits difficult to read, Sidibe, while certainly impressive as a first-time actor, left me slightly underwhelmed in the wake of Mo’Nique’s insanely powerful performance.

I’m not sure one can argue “it’s time” for Sandra Bullock, but I’m happy to go along with it, as I’ve always possessed a great deal of affection for the down-to-earth and warm comedic actress. Sandy has of course shown us her dramatic chops before, if only in the smallest of roles (Crash), but The Blind Side is the perfect showcase for both her humor and dramatic capabilities as the no-nonsense, loving wealthy suburban mom who nurtures a troubled African American teen. Voters love the underdog, and let’s face it: if Julia Roberts can walk away with the biggie for Erin Brokovich, Sandy’s pretty much got this one in the bag.

Of course Bullock’s major competition is Meryl Streep, and the media has certainly made a huge to-do about these two women going head-to-head. No one compares to The Streep, but the formidable actress is always sensational, and while she goes above and beyond a simple imitation of the iconic cook in Julie and Julia, her Julia Childs is surely not amongst her most impressive performances.

That leaves just Mulligan and Mirren: the ingénue and the ol’ pro. Carey Mulligan plays a young schoolgirl seduced by a charming and much older man, and she does it with striking maturity and self-awareness, so strongly holding her own with accomplished actors Alfred Molina and Peter Sarsgaard, that you actually can’t fathom that this is her first major role. We’ve come to expect amazing self-assuredness and brilliance at every turn from the superfluously talented Helen Mirren, and she has absolutely no problem delivering in the romantic historical drama, The Last Station. As the self-ostracized and comically paranoid wife of famous literary icon, Leo Tolstoy, Mirren carefully reveals the heartbreak behind the bombast, fully engaging all of her character’s complexities, no matter how unattractive, vulnerable, or harsh. Her brightest moments are the smallest: in an intimate scene, she carefully unveils Sofya Tolstoy’s strong love for her husband as as she quietly coerces him into bed with delightfully silly pet names and amorous humor. That the performance doesn’t delve into complete hysteria (as it so easily could have) is due to Mirren’s sensitive portrayal of a woman who feels profoundly abandoned by the man she most intensely worships, respects, and adores. Mirren manages to channel our own agonizing heartbreaks within Sofya’s, and as she passionately loves and bitterly detests, and then finally, grieves for her love, so do we.

BEST ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE

1. Jeff Bridges
Crazy Heart

2. Colin Firth
A Single Man

3. Jeremy Renner
The Hurt Locker

4. Morgan Freeman
Invictus

5. George Clooney
Up in the Air

Of all the categories, this contains the year’s most solid – and entirely worthy – set of nominees, and quite frankly, I adore them all: newcomer Jeremy Renner mixes a dangerous amount of self-confidence and precision in his performance as the adrenaline-junkie bomb defuser in The Hurt Locker; Morgan Freeman’s natural calm and grace perfectly suits South African president Nelson Mandela; and while George Clooney’s restlessly affable corporate terminator is too subtle and nuanced to make him a frontrunner, the seeming effortlessness of the performance is precisely why he was nominated in the first place.

And then there’s Colin Firth. Known primarily for a penchant for British romantic comedies, Firth’s quiet and delicate performance as a gay man in the ‘60s grieving his lover’s sudden death is a surprising choice for the actor. But what’s not surprising is the talented Firth’s refined and delicate portrayal of a man fully and painfully aware in every moment of every day – you can see it in the small tremor of his hand, even, as he removes his glasses – that nothing – nothing – will be good, ever again. The Academy could certainly do worse than surprise us all by rewarding this heartrending and essentially perfect performance.

But let’s be honest: if it’s Sandy’s time, it’d damned well better be Jeff Bridges’s. With four previous nominations under his belt and the love of critics and audiences alike, Bridges will finally go home with that golden statue that most agree should’ve been The Dude’s twelve years ago. But this isn’t simply a “let’s make up for past mistakes” vote (ie Denzel Washington in Training Day); Bridges actually deserves the Oscar for this performance. As the scruffy boozehound of a country-western bad boy singer, Bad Blake, Bridges’s gravelly voice and hangdog demeanor charms even as it repels, and we can’t help but root for his uderdog to make the comeback we’re not sure he deserves. As for Bridges – well, that’s one we’re sure about.

Next up: Best Director and Best Picture

Oscars 2010: Foreign Language, Animated, + Documentary Films

Note: My personal rankings are listed in order from best to least accomplished, with #1 being my favorite, while predictions for the actual winners appear in orange.

BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM

1. The Milk of Sorrow (Peru)

1. A Prophet (France)

3. Ajami (Israel)

4. El Secreto de Sus Ojos (Argentina)

5. The White Ribbon (Germany)

I honestly have no idea what will win this category. If you believe “serious” critical sources like the New York Times or Roger Ebert, the big prize will go to that severe (and severely painful) commentary on fascism, The White Ribbon (I’ve already said once why it shouldn’t win). If you have more faith in your Average Blogger or popular ‘zine (Entertainment Weekly, perhaps?), the decades-spanning crime drama El Secreto de Sus Ojos may very well be the evening’s big spoiler. I’m putting my money on the latter; with its universal themes of love and retribution, it’s as decent a prediction as any despite its penchant for overly-romanticized cinematography and cheesetastic lines like the following: “A guy can change anything: his face, his home, his family, his girlfriend, his religion,his God. But there’s one thing he can’t change. He can’t change his passion.” However, it does pack one solid gut-punch of an ending.

But don’t entirely discount A Prophet. Another crime drama, but this one is more The Godfather than The Fugitive with its graphic violence and mafia obsessions. A young Arab (the stunning Tahar Rahim) serves a six-year sentence for a petty crime, and  finds himself ensnared in a dangerous world of warring criminal factions. A gritty and entirely gripping prison drama, this fantastic French film offers some solid competition to the pretentious (The White Ribbon) and the popular (El Secreto de Sus Ojos) choices. And while the ambitious and beautifully acted Ajami convincingly depicts the volatile relationship between Arabs and Jews in Israel across multiple story lines which are expertly woven together (its structure is reminiscent of Slumdog Millionare), the film is over-long and stumbles into some clichés.

The one nominee that’s sure to be overlooked, however, is arguably the year’s most fascinating film – foreign or otherwise. The Milk of Sorrow is beautifully shot: single pearls drop with acute promise into a bowl, daunting dessert staircases spiral upward endlessly, and an old woman in intimate close-up sings emotionlessly about brutalities we’d dare not imagine. Along with these stunning images comes a fierce allegory of Peru’s sexually violent and political history: a timid young woman suffers from “the milk of sorrow,” a psychologically damaging disease causing her to take drastic measures to maintain her personal and emotional safety. Harrowing and gorgeously compelling, The Milk of Sorrow is the year’s finest film that Academy voters never saw.

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE

1. Up

2. Fantastic Mr. Fox

3. The Princess and the Frog

4. Coraline

5. The Secret of Kells

There’s always this moment: when something – a film, a band, a novel – earns raves, the hype consequently builds, and it becomes so extraordinarily popular and beloved by both critics and audiences alike that the backlash is inevitable. All of a sudden something that was so fantastic isn’t nearly so fantastic anymore simply because everyone loves it. Somehow it loses its appeal. Somehow, suddenly, the popular thing is to not like it, and to throw support to the “underdog.”

It’s not very cool to love Up anymore. The trendy thing is to dig the argyle-lovin’ Fantastic Mr. Fox with its hipster soundtrack and clever dialogue (and oh, how I do totally dig it).

Wait, that’s so five minutes ago.

Now it’s really all about the flat, abstract illustration of a young Irish chap as he rebels against his monk-father and befriends a wolf-fairy-girl in – a rather dry – pursuit of the legendary book in The Secret of Kells. And while practically everyone suffers from mommy/daddy issues that will always keep us in deep sympathy with the pale goth-girl Coraline as she battles her creepy button-eyed Other-Mother, Tim Burton dark ‘toon has the added misfortune of arriving on the scene before that CGIed tale of the soaring senior, which immediately took all the wind for its own balloon-sails. And the erratically charming The Princess and the Frog arrived terribly late to the game with its outrageously belated first African American princess, tired Randy Newman ‘tunes, and lazy hand-drawn animation. Clearly Disney didn’t want to steal any of its own thunder.

Despite all the backlash, no one can argue that Up (read my full review here) is a sure bet on Oscar night. All you need to do is rewatch that brilliantly calibrated opening montage of love and loss and you’ll laugh, weep, and then laugh and weep again – all within ten wordless minutes sensitively underscored by Giacchino.  How quickly you’ll forget all about those foxes and frogs, and long to take the journey Up all over again.

BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE

1. The Cove

2. Food, Inc.

3. Which Way Home

4. The Most Dangerous Man in America:
Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers

5. Burma VJ

Note: This is a quick update to my list, as I just watched Which Way Home this afternoon (3/7/10).

It’s been a year of seemingly endless affliction (as these nominees and others would lead you to believe). The freshly filmed and nicely polished-looking Food, Inc., for example, offers us the comforting knowledge – rather redundantly if you’ve read the novel or seen the cinematic adaptation of Fast Food Nation, that this doc is based on – that everything we eat is terrible for us; and it all goes back, way back, to the inhumane treatment of farm animals and the horrible working conditions within our factories. New information? Not exactly. Perfect blend of the personal, the facts, and smooth filmmaking? Definitely.

The other three docs aren’t nearly as refined as Food, Inc. but The Most Dangerous Man in America is definitely more interesting – at least if you’re anything like me and are solely lacking in the knowledge of this highly historical moment. A well-told story of the one super-smart Everyman who smuggled thousands of Pentagon documents and leaked them to the press, uncovering top-secret governmental policies regarding Vietnam, this documentary simultaneously personalizes and historicizes the essential, vital argument for free press and freedom of speech.

The simple act of filming Burma VJ is an incredible and harrowing achievement. Governed by a repressive military regime, the people of Burma are forbidden to film or photograph anything, and the filmmakers literally risked life and limb to smuggle this film to outside sources. After the initial shock wears off of the uber-necessary stealthy filming techniques and the typical daily treatment of citizens (not to mention the jailing of monks), the doc loses power and yet trucks right along, capturing footage after footage of much the same.

Which Way Home is an interesting doc, but one that seems to sympathize with its subjects more than question them. About children migrating illegally over the Mexican-US border, the kids’ courage and ambitions to better their families lives by finding the “American Dream” is both endearing and frustrating, and their parents’ knowledge of the extreme dangers that they are facing in crossing the border  (and allowing them to take the risk anyway) is infuriating.

It’s strange how a film that is so flawed (and for which I had strong remarks for in my full review) ended up topping my list.  The Cove’s largely personal, highly emotional – and to mention thrilling – mission to uncover the needless and horrifically violent yearly dolphin slaughterings in a cove off of Japan, is by far the most mesmerizing and the most effectual. Sure, the facts are skewed for emotional effect, and the film’s main human subject, a Flipper-trainer-turned-activist, is obviously on a mission of self-redemption, but this personal journey actually ups the stakes – for both the subjects and for us. Revealing passion – even passion that is at times misguided – doesn’t discredit the film, but actually heightens its effect: as enraged as I was at some of the factual shortcomings, I was even more so at the acts of violence being perpetuated. If filmmaking inspires movement and change from its audience, then perhaps the other nominees should take a passionate cue from The Cove.

Next up: Best Actor + Actress

What happens when you sleep? Paranormal Activity, that’s what.

Katie and Micah spot some Paranormal Activity

It’s been ten years since the premiere of The Blair Witch Project: the tiny indie-horror-film-that-could terrified the beejusus out of us on a mere $100,000 budget simply by throwing three sadsacks into the woods with a few handheld cameras, offering them bloodied bundled sticks as creepy daily gifts, and most horrifying of all… sticking a guy in a corner.

Now we’ve got another indie horror flick made on an even smaller budget (an impressive $11,000).While Paranormal Activity capitalizes on its predecessors’ success with the home-movie genre (though the steadiness and clear shots of a tripod replace the nauseating herky-jerky camera movements of Blair Witch), it also throws in a great deal of The Exorcist for chilling measure. Instead of witches, director-screenwriter Oren Peli offers a demon that nightly terrorize a young San Dieogan couple in their two-story home. Blair Witch smartly taps into our psychological fear of deep, dark woods by not showing us anything except the pitch black night and close-ups of tear-stained faces. Not so here: we see  exactly what’s happening to adorable girl-next-door Katie (Katie Featherston) and her obnoxious but endearing boyfriend, Micah (Micah Sloat) in their bedroom at night, and without throwing out any spoilers, it’s more than sufficient to say that seeing the demon at work is just as petrifying as not being able to see a darned thing. While the film within a film device (we see the nightly terrors through the lens of Katie and Micah’s camera, never just through Peli’s eye) does offer a modicum of protective distancing for the audience, there’s no denying the primordial fear it induces: the gut-tightening, hairs-standing on end, sleeping-with-the-light-on paranoia.

Audiences were divided on the scare tactics of Blair Witch, and  they’ll either love or hate Paranormal Activity too. The new fright flick is coasting nicely on the groundwork  established by its predecessor, both in cinematic form and clever marketing — including the false “based-on-a-true-story” tagline and a slow buzz-building release of  midnight-only showings that will swiftly guarantee it a  cult following. A lack of formal innovation, however, doesn’t detract from Paranormal‘s super-freaky effectiveness, as it asks the unnerving question “what happens when you sleep?” The terrifying answer plunges  and roots itself into your psyche, ensuring countless sleepless nights and a raising of the bar for all low-budget frightfests to come.

Sideshow by the Seashore: Coney Island offers some of the best of New York theatre

Diablo Cody recently wrote a love letter to Coney Island in Entertainment Weekly, but she left out a one of its most delightful charms.

Coney Island is the most un-New York place in all of New York. You immediately sense the difference as you walk off the train:  the air is lighter, the energy is brighter. You can actually feel the absence of stress, impatience, crazily-accepted narcissim. It’s a sudden weightlessness, a kind of relaxation and openness you can only fully experience outside of the city — time actually slows down. You’re clearly not in Manhattan, and it’s nothing like Brooklyn. It’s the Venice Beach of the east coast, the Second Happiest Place on Earth. It’s an escape for every New Yorker, an awesome tourist destination, and rightly so: there’s no place exactly like it. And it’s slowly, and sadly, disappearing thanks to building developments and a lack of appreciation for its unique cultural and historical significance.

But let’s not get too somber here. Coney Island boasts some of the bestentertainment in New York. Never mind the crazy antics of the vast array of people — families, hipsters, performance artists, seniors, carnies, foreign tourists.  Forget about the thrills — yes, thrills — of the Cyclone, the infamously painful wooden roller coaster, or the scarily swaying Wonder Wheel, or the cheesetastic-yet-awesome-frights of the Spook-a-rama. Let’s talk about the Freak Show, one of the most fantastic pieces of theatre to be found in New York, anywhere, anytime.

Consisting of six acts, with the performers gamely sharing hosting duties, the (more accurate and PC-titled) Side Show constitutes one of the city’s best shows in just 30 minutes.  The devilishly charming Donny Vomit opens with the horrifying Human Blockhead in which begins by hammering a nail up his nose, and then ends with a terrifically terrifying flourish — can you say electric drill?  Other highlights include the ridiculously flexible and endlessly jaunty Krissy Kocktail’s serpentine physical navigation of 18 blades as she lays happily trapped  in a wooden box and the fearless Heather Holliday, who at 19 is the world’s youngest sword-swallower and can bend over while swallowing two swords. Not all the acts are as mind-blowing as these, and the disturbing low light is the one authentic “freak” in the entire show. The Black Scorpion’s entire act revolves around his Ectrodactyly, or in layman’s terms, his lobster hands.  While he does walk on glass (which isn’t all that exciting anyway), the Scorpion’s only real asset is the rareness of his captivating hands and feet, but the fascination doesn’t last long — and unfortunately, his act does. After the initial reveal, the discomfort of the audience is tangible as the performer gleefully and repeatedly refers to his extremities as “super-happy hands/feet.” This classic “freak show” act has dramatically lost its appeal for our PC-world, and the Black Scorpion’s awkward, forced  jocularity only thinly veils what must be a good deal of personal pain.  Despite this, the draws of the other equally authentic Side Show by the Sea Shore acts are fantastically recreated with contemporary  humor and striking talents.

While Labor Day generally marks the end of summer and with it, the closures of many Coney Island’s quirky amusements until the weather warms once again, you can catch the the world’s first professional non-profit theatre dedicated to keeping the American sideshow alive until the end of the month. Don’t miss out on one of New York’s finest treasures. I promise it’s the best $8 you’ll ever spend.

Peter Jackson Takes on Aliens & Racism in the 2009′s Most Thrilling Film

A defective spaceship hovers over Johannesburg, containing thousands of malnourished and generally unthreatening aliens. What to do, what to do?

If you’re writer-director Neill Blomkamp, you sequester said aliens in an area located mere kilometers outside the city, cutting them off from interactions with citizens by barbed wire and armed guards. Essentially, you create an alien slum.

Despite Peter Jackson’s helming as producer, District 9 is not just another visually spectacular action adventure – Independence Day this surely is not. Told through the experience of dweebish everyman Wikus Van De Merwe (played exceptionally by South African unknown, Sharlto Copley), District 9 weaves a disturbing and fascinating cinematic experience, offering a totally engrossing amalgamation of styles – documentary, science fiction, horror, psychological thriller, and moving drama. Blomkamp’s startlingly imaginative and clear-cut direction doesn’t let you catch your breath for two hours: the aliens, cruelly treated as social pariahs, desperately attempt to get their ship back to working order, and all the while, Wikus’s ignorance and disregard for them, as he evicts and forces them into even more horrifying living conditions, slowly morphs into a more sympathetic and even realistic camaraderie. This change is smartly depicted, both physically and intellectually, in one of the most visually horrifying sequences. (While I won’t spoil the film for others, the payoff is indeed great: the final shot of Wikus, and of the film itself, is both overwhelmingly moving and harrowing.)

The point of the film is clear: the shrimp-like aliens are derogatively referred to as “prawns,” and the whole of Johannesburg violently demands their banishment from the city. Assumed to lack any kind of sensitivity or intelligence, as shown when an adroit alien calmly demands – in his own language of glottal clicks and pops – the mandatory 24-hour notice of eviction, the government agents disregard him, pretending they do not hear or understand (when they are clearly fluent in his language).

It would be a mistake to entirely dismiss this layer of social commentary as ineffectual or flawed, as one of my friends smartly argues here. While the science of the racial commentary is off – the idea that “hey, aliens aren’t any different from us!” – if aliens and humans do not, in fact, share any DNA (though I’m not sure the film ever states that), District 9 is clearly not interested in exploring such specifics of science and racial engineering; rather, the film is about heightening our expectations for the alien-movie genre in general, and it does so spectacularly by visually stimulating our senses and emotions simultaneously. While we’re offered yet another cinematic commentary on the far-reaching and crippling consequences of racism, classism, and government corruption, this time it’s under the guise of a kick-ass alien -invasion movie that just about anyone with a strong stomach – whether a cinephile, sci-fi junkie, or something in between – can enjoy. District 9 just so happens to also be one of the year’s most intense and gripping films.

It’s Britney, Bitch.

While Britney Spears’ Circus Tour is ripe for analysis for all you queer and feminist theorists out there (maybe a tad less so for you music scholars), where’s the fun in that? I mean, really: despite the dwarves and Bollywood refrences — not to mention the whips and cages and giant umbrellas (oh my!) — the experience of attending, and even more so, the preparation and anticipation for that experience — is more than half the fun. And so, I offer you a (slightly) tongue-in-cheek play-by-play of my delightful day of Britney that occurred on August 25, 2009:

A 13-STEP GUIDE TO CIRCUS TRAINING…BITCH
What to do the Day of the Show, Y’all

ONE.
Listen to every Britney album on a constant rotation for at least 24 hours prior to the big event. This includes Brit’s “Greatest Hits: My Perogative,” which offers the distinct pleasure of hearing gems like “Crazy” and “Lucky” twice within a single rotation. Which makes you crazy-lucky.

TWO.
Wish desperately that “E-mail My Heart” had been made into a single. Ponder the poetry of the pure and illuminating, late 90s lyrics: “I can see you in my mind / coming on the line / and opening this letter that I’ve sent a hundred times.” Ridiculous insightful commentary on our technologically-obsessed time.

THREE.
Get a good night’s rest and drinks plenty of fluids. You’ll need to be alert — prepare for flashing lights; revolving, multi-tiered sets, blinding sequins; + dwarves, acrobats, and ridiculously toned dancers. Don’t forget to hydrate too (must. keep. up. with. screaming. 12 year olds.) It may also be beneficial to do a few stretches and vocal warm-ups.

FOUR.
Try not to be too obvious that instead of working, you’re actually following Brit on Twitter. (She’s somewhere in Manhattan, below 60th, above 12th. So elusive. But you vow to find her and win those front row tickets)

FIVE.
Carefully select your faves B-lyrics. Post said lyrics — not too obvious, not too obscure — as Facebook statuses every hour on the hour (while continuing the performance of “working”). Delight in the fact that closet Brit fans are outing themselves by joyfully completing the lyrics. Feel warmth in your heart when unassuming others imagine you are in the throes of young love or existentially pondering your life in the big city. [Make mental note to burn all 5 cds for those uninitiated to B's magic.]

SIX.
Curse the young trollops who discovered Brit’s “hiding place” in the M&M store in Times Square. Continue to grumble to yourself that you could’ve found her too if you were 16 and didn’t have to work for the Man. Shake it off, and head downstairs to Duane Reade and purchase your own M&Ms. Brit would want you to.

SEVEN.
After the completion of a monotonous and generally unproductive 8 hours (ie. every Monday through Friday of your life), meet best Brit-fan gal pal for power happy hour. Discover the joys of the cucumber martini — again and again and again.

EIGHT.
Proceed to Madison Square Garden, where throngs of Britney clones swarm afore merch stands (while their parents fiercely attack the many, many bars located throughout). Try desperately to find “You want a piece of me” tee, but settle for a photo-op with a life-size Britney cardboard cut-out. Nab a sample of B’s new fragrance “Circus” as you elbow past the remarkably aggressive teeny boppers.

NINE.
Skip opening act of Jordin Sparks (“Battlefield” blows, anyway) in favor of continued quest to find aforementioned tee. As attempt #2 = big fail, trudge up stair after stair to outrageously expensive seats that are located in BFE. Settle in, catch your breath, and proceed to make new friends with your fellow Britney fans, including a charming lad who, rocking out a fedora, later snaps his fingers and swivels his hips while intensely singing along full-tilt to the entire act. Love him.

TEN.
The Circus begins! Acrobats, dwarves, and clowns ascend the tri-circle stage and delight with trampoline tricks, fierce juggling, and generaly awe-inspiring feats of flexibility, balance, and strength. Begin to get a bit anxious, and wish the circus bit wasn’t so over-done. WE WANT BRITNEY.

ELEVEN.
As the Circus Countdown projected on the massive screens dwindles to 0: stand, cheer, and become giddy with excitement as Brit magically appears onstage amidst the tremendous applause/screaming of thousands of rabid fans. Proceed to sing loudly and dance embarrassingly to some of B’s biggest hits (and some of her more forgettable, but obligatory Circus tracks), as she struts in scarily high heels and feigns masturbation at one point — remember “The Touch Of My Hand”? — all while scantily clad. Highlight: naughty police officer Brit Brit readies to kick your Womanizing ass in the encore. Even after two kids and all those Cheetos, she’s still H-O-T.

TWELVE.
Exhausted, but still high off the excitement of the crowd and B’s magneticism, follow the herd out of the arena, and in one last-ditch effort, make a pit stop at the huge merch stand in the lobby. Buy second-choice tee (and another not-to-be disclosed item), and wander happily to the 1-train, where you proceed to make more (lovely French) Brit-fan friends and guzzle ice-cold water to soothe parched throat from too much singing.

THIRTEEN.
Riding the train, and walking the few blocks home, keep the B-buzz going with your i-pod. Fall into bed, happy and content with your full and bedazzling Circus experience, with which you’ll regale your co-workers tomorrow while you do some more “work.”

Until next time…it’s Britney, Bitch.

The Cries from The Cove

Who doesn’t love Flipper? That perpetually smiling, fin-waving, happy-go-lucky cetacean that offers quite the show of aerial acrobatics and then manages to save a surfer or two from a menacing Tiger Shark. What’s not to love?

Absolutely nothing, declares Activist Richard O’Barry, director Louie Psihoyos, and their assorted crew of adrenaline junkies, weepy free divers, and ex-military personnel. They’re counting on that exact kind of nostalgia for the beloved title star of the famed ’60s tv show (not to mention your fond memories of visits to Sea World with the kids to view the majestic, soaring dolphins), because they need you to get mad. Real mad. So mad that you’ll flee the theatre with tar-and-feather gusto towards those evil, evil Japanese fishermen to avenge the needless slaughter of thousands of helpless, beautiful dolphins each year.

Do they succeed in their mission?

It’s true that thousands of the intelligent and sensitive creatures are murdered in a cove off of Taiji, Japan every year, and the ghastly footage that this documentary crew captures — spear-clad fishermen repeatedly striking trapped and frenzied dolphins in a disturbingly careless, unthinking kind of choreography — is enough to wrench tears from even the coldest of souls. As the once murkily blue water turns a deep, shocking shade of crimson, and one last terrified and fatally injured dolphin jerks its head above and below the scarlet waves before it darts under one final time, never again to resurface, you think: THAT’S IT. THOSE MOTHER-F*CKING FISHERMAN ARE GOING DOWN.

And that’s exactly the problem with The Cove, Richard O’Barry’s vengeful documentary plea to save the dolphins: this fascinating doc is not meant to explain why the fishermen do what they do, why the Japanese government condones their actions, nor why the rest of the world — including so-called environmental activist groups — turn and look the other way.  It’s not until 3/4 of the way through that the film begrudgingly reveals teasing nuggets of reasons as to why these slaughters are occurring.  One being that 70% of people the world-over depend upon fish as their main source of food, a preference the dolphin shares. The filmmakers scoff at the Japanese rational that the dolphins are “pests” who are destroying their food supply: very little attention is paid to the fact that it’s true: if we do keep fishing as rapidly and rabidly as we have been, our current and main source of food will disappear in only forty years. This horrifying fact is glossed over by Ric and his crew as though it was the most absurd and inconsequential of facts.

Of course, the Taiji fishermans’ “over-populated dolphins are consuming all our food” excuse is downright ridiculous and offensive, but one interviewee additionally offers the reason for the slaughters as simply “the last grasp of an empire” that can no longer stomach the West (embodied here by the American activists-filmmakers) telling them what to do.

Seriously.

You walk away with an image of the Japanese as a maniacally laughing, soulless and power-hungry people who could give the slightest care for the adorably curious and self-aware animal that may actually equal humans in intelligence. The Japanese are depicted as the clear-cut, no-questions-asked villains in this narrative. You are not meant to understand them, nor their point of view. No, you’re meant to cry a lot (I did) and get angry (oh yes) while you watch what is in turn a Mission: Impossible-esque recon mission (complete with adrenaline-pumping musical score), weepy tragedy, and (least of all) informative documentary.

But you can’t entirely fault Ric for creating such an erratic and overly-emotional doc. The  70+ year-old activist, whose watery eyes always give him the appearance of crying for his beloved dolphins, began his career training show dolphins, including the original Flipper(s). You don’t need him to tell you — though he does anyway — that he blames himself for the world’s obsession with those lovable creatures — an obsession that ultimately lead to their captivity in aquariums and theme parks the world over…and quite possibly to the Taiji slaughters as well.

You needn’t blame Ric, because he already blames himself. All he really wants is for you to take notice…and maybe some action, too. So does his film succeed?

You tell me.

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!