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Film and the Arts
New York City Ballet Returns This Fall 2010
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Tuesday, 28 September 2010 06:46
- Written by Jack Angstreich
After an extended period of financial uncertainty, New York City Ballet returns to a season which opens in this fall 2010. On offer in the coming months are much of the venerable company's established repertory as well as re-plays of premieres from last season as well as a few brand-new works. A new effort is being made this year to further familiarize audiences on the principal dancers.
On Thursday, September 16th, the company presented a program of three ballets by the late great choreographer Jerome Robbins. The program began with Interplay, a ballet that debuted in 1945, which was Robbins' follow-up to his extraordinary Fancy Free (seen a few months ago here as well as at American Ballet Theatre). Interplay is delightful but this performance lacked some of the bounce of the presentation I saw last season. The lovely Tiler Peck was a standout however, even in the sections where she played a supporting role -- indeed, she is the perfect Robbins dancer. Morton Gould's witty score sounded especially crisp under conductor Andrews Sill's direction. Interplay repeats in the spring.
Opus 19/The Dreamer finds Robbins working in a mode closer to that of George Balanchine, choreographing to the excellent Prokofiev Violin Concerto No. 1, with the Russian composer having employed a more accessible, less forbidding register. This ballet features two principals, Wendy Whelan and Gonzalo Garcia. All the dancers were good but this viewer missed some intensity, especially that of Whelan at her best but Robbins' beautiful conception, rendered here, remains splendid. Opus 19/The Dreamer repeats on October 2nd, as well as in the spring.
Thursday's program closed with The Four Seasons, set to Giuseppe Verdi -- primarily to his enjoyable music for the ballet for the third act of I vespri siciliani, an opera known mainly for its often-played overture. Robbins' The Four Seasons is in many ways something of a synthesis of the styles of the two other ballets that were on this program -- it has much of the puckish humor that was a trademark of the choreographer combined with the formal elegance and underplayed romanticism that Robbins may have appropriated from Balanchine. This ballet is a glorious showcase for 10 of the corp's principals, all very fine in this performance -- despite some rough edges -- supported by an energetic company which exuded enthusiasm. The Four Seasons repeats in the winter.
At the Saturday, September 18th matinee, City Ballet presented Balanchine's Serenade, set to Tchaikovsky's enchanting Serenade for Strings. This work -- Balanchine's first original American ballet -- is the choreographer at his most transporting, although at this performance there were some errors of timing in the company; however, the female principals -- Megan Fairchild, Sara Mearns and Janie Taylor -- were all excellent, with Mearns a particular standout, especially in the opening movement. Serenade repeats this month on Sept. 30th and on October 2nd.
Serenade was followed by a repeat of Interplay, with a different cast and with similar weaknesses to that of Thursday night's performance. There was more roughness in this iteration; most dismaying, however, was the absence of Peck -- but the sheer American-ness of Robbins' creation was still evident.
The program closed with Balanchine's Who Cares? set to Hershy Kay's enjoyable arrangement of several classic Gershwin songs. While likable enough, this ballet has never had the excitement for me of, say, Western Symphony, to take another Balanchine work scored to music from American popular songs. At this performance, I would have liked a little more discipline in the ensemble, especially in the early sections but Peck triumphantly brought eroticism and poise to her "The Man I Love" duet and she also shone in her solo to "Fascinatin' Rhythm." Noteworthy too was Ana Sophia Scheller in her duet to "Embraceable You" and in her athletic solo to "My One and Only."
At the matinee performance on Sunday, September 19th, I saw Alexei Ratmansky's thrilling Namouna, A Grand Divertissement, set to a truly fabulous score by 
Edouard Lalo -- which deserves repertory status in the concert hall. Namouna premiered at City Ballet this spring but is proving to be popular and I would predict that it will endure.
This ballet seems to disavow meanings for forms but the forms are beguiling and it appears to be paradigmatic of nothing so much as postmodern art in its combination of classical elements with very contemporary stylings, giving the ballet an effect of pastiche. But such theorizing distances a viewer from the direct experience of the work itself which is a feast of visual excitement. I would have preferred more discipline in the timing and synchronization of the corps at this performance. While the impressive cast of featured dancers seemed less remarkable than one might ideally like, these infelicities matter less in a ballet of such grandeur.
The repeat of Who Cares? which closed the program was similarly captivating. Again, there were many imprecisions in the ensemble segments -- but the energy of the dancers brought the requisite ebullience to Kay's clever orchestration of Gershwin melodies. Again, the featured principals -- with the definite exception of Peck, who fetchingly recapitulated her Saturday performance -- fell short of the pure charm the ballet demands -- but the inspiration within Balanchine's conception was effectively transmitted.
On Tuesday, September 21st, I attended an enthralling re-play of Namouna. At this performance, the tempos were accelerated to excellent effect, bringing in their wake more dynamism. The abundant comic dimensions of this ballet also received more emphasis and this aspect too was successfully conveyed, especially as it corresponds so fittingly with the Gallic wit of Lalo's extravagant score, despite its many stirring, Wagnerian inflections. And, for all the pure pleasure aroused, the experience was oddly moving -- I look forward already to seeing Namouna again at City Ballet.
Also repeated on this program was Robbins' The Four Seasons, which too boasts a strong cast of featured dancers -- I enjoyed this ballet very much as well. The first section, "Winter" was splendid but the energy seemed to flag a little in the "Spring" and "Summer" movements. However, that energy returned in "Fall" with the arrival of Antonio Carmena and Joaquin de Luz -- but even here, Peck was again outstanding in her technical assurance and spark and she was received by the delighted audience with the enthusiastic response she deserved.
On Wednesday, September 23rd, I saw a repeat of Robbins' Interplay. This performance was a little more disciplined than the one I attended the week before but it still lacked the jazzy electricity that I witnessed in its appearance last season. Most notable this evening was Sterling Hyltin in the third section, "Byplay", who danced elegantly.
The repeat of Opus 19/The Dreamer seemed both less disciplined and less energetic than last week's performance but there were lovely moments. The estimable Whelan was most impressive in her duet in the second movement.
The replay of Who Cares? was the most successful of the evening -- what the dancers lacked in precision they compensated for in dynamism. Several of the ballerinas were standouts here, notably Amanda Hankes in "'S Wonderful" and Teresa Reichlen in "Embraceable You" and "My One and Only". Balanchine's choreography here is a true pleasure.
For more info or to book tix go to: http://www.nycballet.com/nycb/home/
New York City Ballet
Fall Season (September 14 - October 10, 2010)
The David H. Koch Theater
Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts complex
(at Columbus Avenue & 63rd Street)
New York, NY
Kevin's Digital Week: Profane and Sacred
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Friday, 17 September 2010 05:00
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Killers
(LionsGate)
A movie with Ashton Kutcher is automatically suspect, so imagine my surprise when, for awhile, Killers is a spry, tongue-in-cheek caper about an ex-CIA killer embracing domesticity when he marries the girl of his dreams, whom he met in Nice, France for what was his last hit job. Kutcher smirks less than usual, Katherine Heigl is always a delight, and Catherine O’Hara and Tom Selleck are a hoot as her parents. Then, once Kutcher’s past catches up to him and he confesses his previous life to his wife, Killers goes completely off the rails before limping to a lamely happy ending.
Watching Killers on Blu-ray, especially for Heigl or Kutcher fans, is the way to go, since the hi-def transfer is top-notch and the DTS-HD audio pops throughout. The fairly flimsy extras comprise a behind-the-scenes featurette with interviews, a gag reel and deleted, alternate and extended scenes.
The Player
(New Line)
Robert Altman’s 1992 Hollywood satire about a young studio exec who literally gets away with murder is never as clever as it thinks, since its best moments come at the very beginning: the astonishing opening eight-minute tracking shot is a masterpiece of choreography on par with the classic opening of Orson Welles’ Touch of Evil. As for the rest, with so many cameos of the famous and not-so-famous-any-more people, The Player plays more like an extended in-joke than a real movie.
New Line’s Blu-ray edition looks much better than the original DVD, even if Jean Lepine’s soft-focus photography has a haziness to it: that may have been Altman’s intent, but it points up the limitations of this hi-def transfer, unfortunately. The extras are all from the original DVD release: a chatty commentary by Altman and screenwriter Michael Tolkin, an Altman interview and a handful of deleted scenes.
DVDs of the Week
Legends of the Canyon
(Image)
Many of the musical artists that came out of the Southern California area in the late 60s and early 70s, from the Byrds, Buffalo Springfield and the Mamas and the Papas to Joni Mitchell, Crosby Stills & Nash and America, were photographed by lensman Henry Diltz, whose own remembrances are the basis of this terrifically entertaining documentary. Along with Diltz’s thoughts about the artists whom he admired and befriended, there are also interviews with the likes of David Crosby, Graham Nash, Stephen Stills and Gerry Beckley from America.
Even if you’re a not a fan of this music (and why aren‘t you?), you’ll appreciate the insights into these carefree and creative days. This excellent DVD release includes a 20-page full-color booklet with reproductions of Diltz’s seminal photos and extras including extended interviews and vintage home-movie footage from the era.
Looking for Eric
(IFC)
Ken Loach’s gently comic study of Eric, a huge soccer fan and postman whose a failure at fixing the holes in his empty life might not resonate with Americans because of the person who pops up to help him. Out of the blue, Eric Cantona, one of Manchester United’s big stars, becomes Eric’s guardian angel and helps him get the guts and guile to sort out his problems, including a daring raid on a local hood’s crib.
Though not top-drawer Loach, once you get past the fantasy aspect—never a Loach forte—Looking for Eric has much to enjoy, from screenwriter Paul Laverty’s typically zingy dialogue to the persuasively unactorish performances of the entire cast, from Steve Evets to footballer Cantona. Too bad the lone extra is a selection of deleted scenes; the British release—a Blu-ray, by the way—also included a Loach commentary, Q&A with the director and his two lead actors, a featurette on soccer fans and two Loach shorts!
CDs of the Week
Rhys Chatham: A Crimson Grail
(Nonesuch)
The background of Rhys Chatham’s monumental minimalist composition, A Crimson Grail, is more interesting than the finished product: originally slated to premiere at Lincoln Center Out of Doors in 2008, the piece—which uses over 200 guitarists and bassists as an orchestra that Chatham himself rehearsed and conducted—was cancelled due to a huge thunderstorm right before the start time. It finally went off without a hitch the following summer.
A Crimson Grail, in three parts, lasts nearly 70 minutes, and its droning sounds will either hypnotize or paralyze listeners. The recording is superb, however, with the layers of guitars sounding impressively massive in Chatham’s original conception. This is one work, however, where experiencing the original event is preferable to hearing it later on.
Gidon Kremer: De Profundis
(Nonesuch)
Latvian violinist Gidon Kremer and his ensemble, Kremerata Baltica, have been making profoundly moving music since its founding in 1997, and their latest recording—a collection of shorter works—illustrate music’s universal profundity. Kremer’s urgent, provocative liner notes assail the current worldwide oil oligarchy that ignores the spiritual, and he dedicates the CD to Mikhail Khodorkovsky, a billionaire currently incarcerated in Siberia for fraud.
Politics aside, music makes the most profound statements here, from Sibelius’ Scene with Cranes, to Schnittke’s Fragment (from an unfinished cantata). In between, masters like Schumann, Schubert, Piazzolla and Shostakovich rub shoulders with living composers from Arvo Pärt, Lera Auerbach, Michael Nyman and Lithuania’s Raminta Šerkšnyte, whose emotional 12-minute work gives this superbly-played disc its title.
Theater Review: Albee's "Me, Myself & I"
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Tuesday, 14 September 2010 05:00
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Me, Myself & I
A play by Edward Albee
Directed by Emily Mann
Starring Elizabeth Ashley, Brian Murray, Zachary Booth, Natalia Payne, Stephen Payne, Preston Sadleir
Edward Albee’s Me, Myself & I, one of the celebrated playwright’s weakest efforts, is a wan comedy pretending to be daring and original, much like his recent successes on and off-Broadway, The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia? and The Play about the Baby.
Like most Albee’s plays, Me, Myself & I concerns a family that defines “dysfunctional”: middle-aged Mother can’t tell the difference between her identical twin sons, who are (almost) identically named OTTO and otto. In earlier Albee plays, family situations were explored with bile but with semi-realism; now, he is besotted with an all-purpose absurdism which has become ever more absurd with each play.
Throughout Me, Myself & I, there are Albee’s usual long-winded monologues and vulgar, repetitious dialogue, along with examinations of language that even include characters correcting others’ (and sometimes their own) grammar. Someone says “llama,” another wonders if it’s the “Dalai” Lama, but the response is no, “they’re pronounced differently—llama, Lama.” Why the twins are named “Otto” is discussed, and we find that the name “reads the same forward and backward.”—“Palindrome.”—“Yes; palindrome. Reads the same forward and backward.” And, most ridiculously of all, someone says “ta” when leaving and another character says that it should be “ta ta.”
These tiresome tics have infected Albee’s writing for the past several decades, except, miraculously, his marvelous character study, Three Tall Women. The needless repetition often occurs when someone says something that’s repeated by someone else. When otto says that, if OTTO wants to become Chinese (no, I’m not making this up), he’ll have to “get his eyes slanted, his penis shortened,” Mother asks in exasperation, “His penis shortened?” Repeating that line is good for a cheap laugh, if nothing else.
But Albee abounds in cheap laughs by constantly throwing vulgar insults into the mix, guaranteeing audience guffaws because there’s nothing funnier than Mother saying “motherfucker” or otto calling his girlfriend Maureen a “whore” after finding out she slept with OTTO by mistake. Upon discovering Maureen is part French and Cherokee, Mother calls her “frog” and “half-breed,” but curiously says nothing nasty about her being part German and Scottish, making Albee’s political incorrectness highly selective.
There’s a germ of a decent idea in Me, Myself & I about twins having psychological difficulties dealing with mirror images of themselves, but the best Albee can muster—aside from the rank cliché of OTTO sleeping with Maureen while pretending he’s otto—is to have OTTO create a “third” (unseen) twin, whom he calls otto: to differentiate him from otto, no doubt.
Emily Mann directs uninspiredly on the nearly completely bare stage, while her actors are hamstrung by characters which become mere puppets for Albee’s manipulation. Brian Murray comes off best as Dr., Mother’s lover-companion for the past 28 years, thanks to his sober line readings. Contrarily, Elizabeth Ashley mercilessly hams it up, perhaps in the vain hope that that’s the best way to play Mother (it may well be!). While Zachary Booth and Preston Sadleir—good actors both—look remarkably alike as OTTO and otto, they can’t mold anything out of the clotted clay their author has handed them.
Performances August 24-October 10, 2010
Playwrights Horizons
416 West 42nd Street
playwrightshorizons.org
Kevin's Digital Week: Solitary Men and Women
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Thursday, 09 September 2010 05:00
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Red Riding Trilogy
IFC)
Three separate films made by three different directors, the Red Riding Trilogy dramatizes David Pearce’s quartet of novels about a serial killer on the loose in northern England. The films, titled after the year each covers — 1974, 1980 and 1983 — present the frustrating investigations into the killer of several young women. Although each film introduces us to the police, journalists and townspeople who are tied to the killings, the cumulative impact of all five hours is less enthralling than it should be. The problem is that none of the three directors—Julian Jerrold, James Marsh and Anand Tucker—transcend “serial killer movie” stereotypes, particularly the hoarily sentimental shots of 1983's finale.
The actors, including Paddy Considine, Rebecca Hall, Peter Mullan and Saskia Reeves, are uniformly good, although it becomes comical watching skinny Andrew Garfield getting beaten up by everyone he meets as 1974’s crusading journalist. The films were shot in different formats—16mm, 35mm and digital video, respectively—but the Blu-ray transfers faithfully preserve each film’s unique, grainy look. A second disc has a truckload of extras like deleted scenes and interviews with directors and actors.
Solitary Man (Anchor Bay)
Michael Douglas gives his best-ever performance as an unrepentant heel who cannot stay away from women; though it's ruined him, he seems unable to stop. Playing the car salesman who has sold lemons to the women in his life—his ex-wife, his daughter, his current girlfriend, her college-age daughter—Douglas painfully shows how charisma and charm can destroy a man.
Directors Brian Koppelman (who also scripted) and David Levien are unafraid to hang their “hero” out to dry—especially when he beds his girlfriend’s daughter without a second thought—even if their shaggy-dog ending leaves a monumental decision unresolved. As a bonus, the movie is well-acted across the board, as playing opposite Douglas are a gaggle of great actresses: Susan Sarandon, Mary Louise Parker, Jenna Fischer, Imogen Poots and Olivia Thirlby. The sharp Blu-ray transfer is full of detail; the extras include a making-of featurette and a commentary by Koppelman and Levien.
DVDs of the Week
The Exploding Girl (Oscilloscope)
Actress Zoe Kazan's career has been on a semi-meteoric rise onstage, where she has become a fixture on and off Broadway. Too bad that the movie The Exploding Girl doesn’t allow her to create a memorable onscreen character. Kazan flits around this meandering portrait of a young, epileptic woman in New York City trying to sustain her relationships.
Kazan has been good in supporting parts, but at this stage in her young career, leading roles seem beyond her reach. And Bradley Rust Gray’s film, though it has moments of quiet introspection (beautifully shot on digital), remains undramatic and lacking in any insight. Extras include Gray’s short, Flutter, a music video and an interview with Kazan and Gray.
Prime Suspect: The Complete Series
(Acorn Media)
Although she’s been splendid in numerous movie roles—including her Oscar-winning turn as Elizabeth II in The Queen—Helen Mirren’s greatest triumph will always be Jane Tennyson, the police inspector at the heart of Prime Suspect. When it first debuted on PBS nearly 20 years ago, little did we know that, within the space of a dozen years, we’d watch with increasing awe and admiration how Mirren made Tennyson not only an unglamorous human being but an exciting, new kind of detective, as well as applaud her ability to solve crimes, work on an unfulfilling personal life and tame her male partners' sexist attitudes.
This excellent multi-disc set contains all seven Prime Suspects—which, along with Mirren’s brilliance, also showcase superb performances by a pre-Schindler's List Ralph Fiennes, Peter Capaldi, Tom Wilkinson, David Thewlis and many others. Aside from these sublimely crafted crime dramas, there are two extras: a behind-the-scenes featurette and a longer (50-minute) making-of encompassing all seven episodes.
CDs of the Week
Julia Fischer: Paganini’s 24 Caprices
(Decca)
Niccolo Paganini’s 24 caprices are considered the Mount Everest of Virtuosity for any violin player, so it’s no surprise that Julia Fischer—one of our most engaging young classical fiddlers—gives them a go on her new recording of these two dozen essential snapshots of wide-ranging violin technique.
Although Fischer obligingly sets a fast pace, she also finds the meaning behind the material. The two longest caprices in the set (Nos. 4 and 6) run the gamut from slow introspection to speed-demon displays, but Fischer makes them sound like coherent dramatic statements, not just exercises in whiplash. Still, the sense of excitement in these high-wire string acts is encapsulated by the dazzling runs of No. 15, which Fischer dispatches without breaking a sweat.
Panufnik: Symphonic Works, Volume 2
(CPO)
Composer Andrzej Panufnik, who died in 1991, wasn't one of Poland’s 20th century masters like Lutoslawski, Szymanowski and Penderecki. But at their best, Panufnik’s scores are solid and imaginative, and this new disc is a nice overview of a quarter-century of the composer's career, performed with alternating forcefulness and finesse by the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra under conductor Lukasz Borowicz.
The early, evocative Lullaby and folk-based Polonia suite sound marvelously rich and full, while the two symphonies—No. 1 and No. 4—are Panufnik at his best: Sinfonia Rustica is a vigorous, expressively dramatic work (to steal the composer’s own details for two of its movements), while the Sinfonia Concertante for Flute, Harp and Strings is a lovely two-movement work which Panufnik wrote for his wife as a 10th anniversary gift. She was no doubt pleased.
