November '11 Digital Week I

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Parent Category: Film and the Arts

Category: Reviews

Published on Sunday, 06 November 2011 19:00

Written by Kevin Filipski

Blu-rays of the Week
Brideshead Revisited (Acorn Media)
Evelyn Waugh’s classic novel was transformed into this epic 1981 British mini-series, one of the most monumental undertakings in TV history. Considering original director Michael Lindsay-Hogg was replaced after the first episode by Charles Sturridge, there’s an amazing dramatic coherence to the entire series.

Along with dazzling supporting turns by John Gielgud, Laurence Olivier, Claire Bloom and Jane Asher, Brideshead launched the careers of Anthony Andrews and (especially) Jeremy Irons. The lavish 11-part, 10-hour series looks stellar on Blu-ray; extras include audio commentaries, retrospective documentary and outtakes.

Cars 2 (Disney)
Even its staunchest defenders might find their affection for Pixar’s mélange of animated features has hit a roadblock with this noisy, mostly unfunny rehash of the amusing original. With two bland voices (Owen Wilson and Larry the Cable Guy) in place, the movie revs up but ends up puttering its way to the finish line.

It’s a bumpy ride with four flat tires. As always, the digital animation looks terrific in hi-def; extras include two short films and a director’s commentary.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (Lionsgate/Miramax)
George Clooney’s witty 2002 directorial debut finds humor and adventure in Chuck Barris’ autobiography, which claimed that he was a CIA agent while making The Dating Game and Gong Show for American TV.

Sam Rockwell gives a remarkable portrayal of a (possible) madman, and bright cameos by Drew Barrymore, Julia Roberts and Clooney himself give the film extra black-comic gravitas. The Blu-ray images leaves something to be desired, but the extras compensate: Clooney’s commentary, deleted scenes, behind-the-scenes featurettes and Rockwell’s screen test.

Crazy Stupid Love (Warners)
This confused attempt at sophisticated comedy uses adultery, one-night-stands and underage sexual activity to show what happens when a husband (Steve Carell) is told by his wife (Julianne Moore) that she cheated on him. He moves out, has a fling with a teacher (always adorable Marisa Tomei) and other women, before discovering that the ladies’ man (Ryan Gosling) he befriends has a secret of his own with his new girlfriend (Emma Stone).

The spot-on performances and lively dialogue partially compensate for the clichéd story and characters over the course of two hours. The hi-def images is first-rate; extras include deleted scenes and two featurettes.

Faces in the Crowd (Millennium)
After surviving an attack by a notorious serial killer, a woman is unable to resume her normal life because of a debilitating disease where she cannot identify faces, even those closest to her. This intriguing premise is handled in a slipshod manner by director-writer Julien Magnat, and Milla Jovovich is mere pretty face unable to make her character come to life.

There are a few good scares, but it all flies by rather routinely. The Blu-ray looks good, but not great; extras include short interviews and making-of segments.

Identification of a Woman (Criterion)
Michelangelo Antonioni’s semi-autobiographical and sexually frank 1982 character study follows a director, unable to decide on his next project, who is going though a divorce and juggling two other women. Often stodgy and over expository dialogue notwithstanding, Antonioni conjures many stunning images--including one of his greatest set pieces, during a murky fog--and racy sex scenes that bare the souls (among other things) of leading ladies Daniele Silvino and Christine Boisson.

The Criterion Collection’s Blu-ray superlatively showcases Antonioni’s sublime visuals; too bad there are no bonus features, a rarity for the usually extras-laden Criterion discs.

An Invisible Sign (MPI)
This low-key drama comes as a surprise to viewers used to seeing Jessica Alba in junk like The Fantastic Four or The Eye. Here, Alba gives a sweetly sympathetic performance as a repressed young woman who blossoms while dealing with her young math students and a fellow teacher whom she falls for.

It’s not unlike a typical Lifetime movie, but it has its charms, not least Alba’s interaction with the kids in and out of the classroom. The Blu-ray image is fine; there are no extras.

A Little Help (Image)
Jenna Fischer gives a strong portrayal of a harried Long Island wife who must rebuild everything after her philandering husband drops dead: that means dealing with meddling sister and mom, besotted brother in law and troubled teenage son who tells everyone his dad died on Sept. 11.

Fischer’s open, friendly demeanor nearly legitimizes what writer-director Michael J. Weithorn has turned into a sitcom, despite her beguiling presence. The hi-def image looks good; extras include short interviews with director and cast.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan (Fox)Wayne Wang’s wan, sentimental adaptation of Lisa See’s centuries-spanning novel about families has its pluses, namely gorgeous Chinese locations, fabulous photography (showcased so exactingly on Blu-ray that one can distinguish each single snowflake) and a bunch of talented actresses led by Vivian Wu, who once starred in Peter Greenaway’s notorious The Pillow Book 15 years ago).

But too bad it all goes down too easily and with maximal saccharine for my taste; but what do I know: I’m not the target audience. The lone extra is a half-hour making-of featurette.

DVDs of the Week
Composing Outside the Beatles (MVD)
This overview of Lennon and McCartney’s post-Beatles careers goes from 1970 (despite the title, which says 1973) to 1980, when Lennon was killed and McCartney released the experimental McCartney II, effectively finishing off his ultra-successful band Wings.

We see both men’s artistic highs (Walls and Bridges, Band on the Run) and lows (Sometime in New York City, Wild Life), with much vintage interview footage and videos of their hit songs, along with commentary by various “experts.” It’s a worthwhile if overlong 140 minutes for Beatles fans; extras include bonus interviews.

Pearl Jam Twenty (Sony Music)
Cameron Crowe’s chronicle of Pearl Jam’s first two decades has a most interesting first half-hour, which traces the Seattle music scene back to its origins, concentrating on Mother Love Bone, whose demise after charismatic lead singer Andrew Wood’s death led to Pearl Jam’s formation.

Crowe seems more engaged early on, during interviews with Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell and the former Mother Love Bone boys. Maybe Crowe should do a full-length overview of the whole grunge scene, which might be better than his take on Pearl Jam. Extras include bonus interviews and music segments.

Tabloid (IFC)
One of Errol Morris’ most oddball docs explores an unbelievable but true story of a young American beauty who falls for a Britisher whom she follows back to England after being “brainwashed” by a religious group and kidnaps and sexually ravishes him to “cure” him. Sundry sorts of points of view are extracted--hers and other witnesses (the man has since died)--which Morris records with his equally bemused and amused eye.

When the movie branches further into fallow territory, one truly understands why the title Tabloid has been applied to this grossly entertaining sideshow. No extras, unfortunately.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and Smiley’s People (Acorn Media)
Alec Guinness dominates these immensely involving BBC adaptations of John Le Carre’s classic spy novels. Directed by John Irvin in 1979, Tinker follows Smiley as he attempts to ferret out a mole in the upper reaches of the British spy network; made in 1982 by Simon Langton, Smiley is another go-round for the “retired” expert.

Both movies feature superb supporting actors, authentic location shooting and an expansive air which suits the books’ complexity, unlike feature films made from Le Carre’s books. Above it all hovers Guinness, whose warm, slightly inscrutable presence makes Smiley endlessly fascinating. Each set contains an interview with the normally reticent Le Carre.

CDs of the Week
Frederick Delius, Concertos (Chandos)
Frederick Delius, an unsung British composer of the early part of the 20th century, was an unusually expressive purveyor of symphonic music, and the three concertos captured on this disc are lyrical works that are not the least bit showy.

His Double Concerto’s eloquence is heard in the stylish but lovingly restrained playing of soloists Tasmin Little (violin) and Paul Watkins (cello). Little takes the elegant solo line in the Violin Concerto, while Watkins does the honors in the Cello Concerto. In support, Sir Andrew Davis ably leads the BBC Symphony Orchestra.

Paul McCartney, Ocean’s Kingdom (Hear Music)
He’s also written a couple of oratorios, a large-scale symphonic work and several tuneful chamber pieces, but this is the ever-prolific Sir Paul’s first ballet. While obviously not in the same league as, say, Tchaikovsky to Prokofiev, Ocean’s Kingdom is still an eminently danceable piece that relies on McCartney’s greatest strength, his innate ability to shape elegant melodies into unforgettable larger musical forms.

The hour-long ballet has many magical moments, like the second movement’s amusingly drunken bassoon or the wondrous climactic passages that build to a magical and most satisfying finale. I saw the New York City Ballet’s world premiere in September and was less entranced by the choreography and silly underwater plotline (there’s no Octopus’ Garden here), but McCartney’s uplifting score is great fun and should resonate with new, better stagings.

October '11 Digital Week V

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Parent Category: Film and the Arts

Category: Reviews

Published on Sunday, 30 October 2011 15:00

Written by Kevin Filipski

Blu-rays of the Week

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Peter and the Wolf (Opus Arte)
These delightful ballets will enrapt viewers young and old. Alice beautifully pairs Joby Talbot’s effervescent score and Christopher Wheeldon’s invigorating choreography to imaginatively present Lewis Carroll’s surreal tale, including the most adorable Cheshire Cat anyone will ever see.

Read more: October '11 Digital Week V

NYC Theater Roundup: MLK and Woody on Broadway, WASPs Off-Broadway

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Parent Category: Film and the Arts

Category: Reviews

Published on Saturday, 29 October 2011 15:00

Written by Kevin Filipski

The Mountaintop
Written by Katori Hall; directed by Kenny Leon
Starring Angela Bassett, Samuel L. Jackson

Relatively Speaking
Written by Ethan Coen, Elaine May, Woody Allen; directed by John Turturro
Starring Caroline Aaron, Lisa Emery, Ari Graynor, Steve Guttenberg, Danny Hoch, Julie Kavner, Richard Libertini, Mark Linn-Baker, Marlo Thomas

Children
Written by A.R. Gurney; directed by Scott Alan Evans
Starring Darrie Lawrence, Margaret Nichols, Richard Thieriot, Lynn Wright

Award-winning playwright Katori Hall has set herself up to be knocked down off the mountain with her speculative drama about Martin Luther King. Set in the Memphis hotel room that King stayed in the night before he was killed, The Mountaintop pits King against Camae, a maid who is more (or less) than whom she initially seems. The plot would work better a lot shorter, especially since a Twilight Zone episode would wrap things up in 30 minutes.

Unfortunately, Hall pads her play with imagined conversations between King and Camae, often filled with unneeded profanity. Camae apologizes profusely several times to King after letting loose with expletives, and the show’s biggest laughs come when King throws down his own F-bombs. Hall tries humanizing King by showing him behind closed doors, as it were, off the pedestal he’s occupied since his assassination. When the play opens, King enters the hotel room coughing, shivering, desperately needing a cigarette; he goes into the bathroom where we hear him urinating. At least he doesn’t belch or pass gas, which would be too obvious, apparently.

The play’s shallow crux--an unpersuasive revealing of Camae’s true identity--makes the first hour, in retrospect, nothing more than a pointless buildup, and the last part is simply Hall climbing to the top of her soapbox to show what King’s death has wrought. Some dialogue has bite, humor and even occasional insight, but Hall is too enamored of her conceit to plumb the depths of her flimsy characters.

Director Kenny Leon stages The Mountaintop as realistically as possible on David Gallo’s spectacularly shabby hotel-room set, which yields to a visually impressive visualization of the play’s title (which is taken from a King speech heard at the beginning). Gallo’s apt projections accompany Camae’s monologue about the last 40-odd years of universal struggle following MLK’s death.

Samuel L. Jackson and Angela Bassett are too old for their parts, but Jackson’s King is nicely understated and Bassett’s Camae is amusingly over the top; Bassett (who looks smashing, by the way) has been criticized for hamming, but she’s so infectious that she makes sitting through The Mountaintop less of a chore than it would have been if a lesser actress was onstage.
            *                                            *                                        *
The three one-acts making up Relatively Speaking are seen in ascending order of hilarity. Ethan Coen’s short curtain-raiser, Talking Cure, is a one-note riff on the offbeat characters he and his brother have made their onscreen specialty; Elaine May’s George Is Dead is an amusingly slight character study about a narcissistic rich widow; and Woody Allen’s old-fashioned farce Honeymoon Motel has jokes galore, with hit or miss laughs.

Director John Turturro seems at sea in the rudderless Coen comedy, which moves in fits and starts. If not for Danny Hoch’s delightfully deranged line readings, Talking Cure would be 15 minutes of wasted talking. That Turturro better grasps May’s comic rhythms in George Is Dead is shown in Marlo Thomas’s tour de force of shrill intensity as the clueless Doreen, a role May herself might have played earlier in her career. As Doreen’s straight woman, Lisa Emery gives a sympathetic portrayal that grounds May’s sometimes strident comedy with a dose of much-needed reality.

All bets are off in Allen’s Honeymoon Motel, which is stuffed to the gills with one-liners and zingers that have collected in Allen’s fertile comic brain for the past four decades. There’s a goodly amount of groaners, to be sure, but there are also enough good lines sprinkled about that the pace rarely flags until Woody winds things down to an abrupt finale. You can hear Woody’s own voice when someone says “There’s a lot to be said for inertia in marriage--especially now with Netflix” or “Did you see the look on the rabbi’s face? Like someone gave back the Left Bank.”

As in May’s play, Turturro adeptly lets his 10 cast members find their own comic rhythms and meshes them together: adroit comic performers like Julie Kavner, Richard Libertini, Mark Linn-Baker and Ari Graynor don’t overwhelm lesser lights like Steve Guttenberg. The three plays‘ formidable visual design comprises Santo Loquasto’s ravishing sets, Kenneth Posner’s deft lighting and Donna Zakowska’s agreeable costumes. Relatively Speaking works best as Woody Allen’s return to the uncontrolled outrageousness of Bananas.
            *            *            *
Children, A.R. Gurney’s 1974 comic study of New England WASPs, is tougher than other plays like The Cocktail Hour and The Dining Room, whose genteel satire is replaced with more acid.

At a summer house on an island off the Massachusetts coast on July 4th weekend in 1970, an affluent family is in crisis. Just-divorced Barbara, who has brought her children, is quietly carrying on with the family’s former lawn keeper; her hotheaded, competitive brother Randy, a school teacher, is is visiting with his easygoing wife Jane and their kids; and their widowed mother (called “Mother“), who announces that she’s marrying longtime family friend “Uncle” Bill, who remains unseen, along with other characters: Barbara and Randy’s younger, free-spirited brother Pokey and wife Miriam, who arrive with their soda-drinking, foul-mouthed kids; and Barbara, Randy and Pokey’s father, who died five years earlier. Gurney generally handles these glaring absences well, except in Mother’s final monologue, when she speaks to Pokey, who’s standing behind a screen door: his silence during her conversation is implausible.

Throughout the course of one day, this family’s varied skeletons come tumbling out of the closet, and Gurney lays bare the generations-long repression of these WASPs. As always, Gurney’s dialogue sparkles as both repartee and riposte: Jane’s coming-out party --where she met Sandy--is called a “WASP bar mitzvah,” while Barbara makes an astute observation about her family: “That‘s why we have to be near the ocean. We have to go through these ritual cleansings.”

Despite his affection for them, Gurney mercilessly dissects these children. The final image of Mother alone on a terrace with a view of the sea (nicely rendered by set designer Brett J. Banakis and Bradley King’s lighting) shows a resignation, even a loneliness, usually missing from Gurney’s work.

Scott Alan Evans ably guides a superb cast: Richard Thieriot (Randy), Lynn Wright (Jane) and Darrie Lawrence (Mother) solidly grasp their roles, but Margaret Nichols, whose Barbara is a beautifully-realized lost soul, is so good that one wonders why such a valuable actress isn’t onstage more often.

The Mountaintop
Previews began September 22, 2011; opened October 13
Jacobs Theatre, 242 West 45th Street, New York, NY
http://themountaintopplay.com

Relatively Speaking
Previews began September 20, 2011; opened on October 20
Brooks Atkinson Theatre, 256 West 47th Street, New York, NY
http://relativelyspeakingbroadway.com

Children
Previews began October 18, 2011; opened October 27; performances thru November 20
Becket Theatre, Theatre Row, 410 West 42nd Street, New York, NY
http://tactnyc.org