CD Release of the Week 

Sure, it’s a calculated move, but why not? Taylor Momsen—lead singer of one of the best rock bands around right now, the Pretty Reckless—played, at age 7, Cindy Lou Who in the annoying movie adaptation of Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas, with Jim Carrey in green prosthetics as the dastardly villain. A quarter-century later, Momsen returns to full-throatedly sing “Where Are You Christmas,” which she warbled in the movie (and which Faith Hill made into a holiday perennial). 

 

The new version, backed by her band, rocks nicely but would have been even better if they really cranked it up. It returns at the end, slightly changed, as “Christmas, Why Can’t I Find You,” which allows the adult Momsen to cede her EP’s opening and closing voices to her younger self.

 

 

The other songs are fun holiday originals: the finger-snapping “I Wanna Be Your Christmas Tree,” with its hilarious double entendres like “Stuff that turkey with your Pepperidge Farm/Cover it in gravy and all your charm”; the irresistible power pop of “Christmas Is Killing Me,” with its immortal couplet “Christmas is killing me/Someone stop Mariah Carey”; and the, well, very bluesy “Blues for Christmas,” all of which let Momsen show off her incredibly versatile voice. But now that she’s gotten Cindy Lou out of her system, here’s hoping the new year brings a new Pretty Reckless album on the order of the group’s killer recent single, “For I Am Death.”  

 

 

 

In-Theater Release of the Week

Jodie Foster gives an impressive performance, primarily in French, in Rebecca Zlotowski’s typically genre-bending study of a divorced analyst dealing with professional and personal crises: she has a strained relationship with her son, his wife and their young baby, while she follows up on her suspicions of a longtime patient’s supposed suicide.

 

 

Always good with actors, Zlotowski follows suit here: supporting Foster’s accomplished turn are Daniel Auteil as her frisky ex, Vincent Lacoste as their chip-on-his-shoulder son, Virginie Efira as the dead patient and Mathieu Almaric as her grieving widower. But the script by Zlotowski, Anne Berest and Gaëlle Macé has characterization problems and plot holes that prevent the movie from really taking flight.

 

 

 

Streaming Releases of the Week 

Pairing real-life husband-and-wife Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick as Stan (a single father with a musician daughter, Sammi) and Cynthia (married to the much older Warren—who’s beginning to show signs of dementia) has its charms, especially in the easy rapport of the couple’s scenes together in what may or may not become an affair.

 

 

Yet writer-director Michael J. Weithorn doesn’t know what to do with the rest of his sitcomish comedy-drama, so good actors like Judd Hirsch (Warren) and Brittany O’Grady (Sammi) are left adrift. 

 

 

 

Reflection in a Dead Diamond 

The latest contraption from Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani—French husband and wife writers-directors based in Belgium—blends James Bond spoofing with bloody revenge melodrama: a retired spy, John D (played by Fabio Testi and Yannick Renier as his older and younger incarnations), remembers his youthful exploits when his fascinating new neighbor disappears.

 

 

Cattet and Forzani always bring their A game to their often dazzling visuals, although they inevitably overdose on gorgeously composed shots at the expense of their tale. 

 

 

 

WTO/99 

In 1999, Seattle was the location for a meeting of the nascent World Trade Organization, which looked to negotiate new trade deals to link the world economy and generate prosperity, but strange bedfellows like unions, chambers of commerce and liberal activists declared the WTO antithetical to human rights, the environment and labor and came to protest in the tens of thousands.

 

 

Director Ian Bell has painstakingly assembled a compelling and eye-opening look back at living history: that volatile moment presaging the unholy mess we find ourselves in, told exclusively through archival footage from TV news reports and amateur home videos.

 

 

 

Blu-ray Release of the Week

Stephen King’s short novel about a dystopian U.S. where the eponymous event takes place, with the lone survivor winning a jackpot—an unoriginal but workable premise on the page—has been turned into an enervating film by director Francis Lawrence and writer JT Mollner, who do little with the anti-dramatic storyline of young men walking alongside soldiers who shoot anyone who falls off the pace.

 

 

Flashbacks to our main protagonist Garraty’s home life with mom and dad (Judy Greer and Josh Hamilton, both wasted) and occasional closeups of blown-off heads don’t alleviate the tedium. Cooper Hoffman (Garraty) and a cast including Charlie Plummer and David Jonsson try to bring individuality to this faceless crew, but Mark Hamill’s cartoonish antagonist makes that nearly impossible. The film looks great on Blu; lone extra is a 75-minute making-of documentary.

Streaming Releases of the Week 

A political film that demands to be treated seriously is a rarity nowadays, but this apocalyptic drama, slickly directed by Jan Komasa from a hamfisted script by Lori Rosene-Gambino, pretends to be a daring cautionary tale when it’s only a pedestrian treatment of how a sea change in American politics (called, blandly, “the change”) takes its toll on an affluent family.

 

 

The country is turned upside down along with the Taylors, but despite politically motivated killings and a suicide bombing, little of it rings true or plausible, mainly because it fails at being clinical and probing. Convincing performances by Diane Lane (mom), Kyle Chandler (dad), Zoey Deutsch, McKenna Grace and Madeline Brewer (daughters), Dylan O’Brien (son), and Phoebe Dynevor (son’s wife and main catalyst) can only do so much. 

 

 

 

Frankenstein 

Mary Shelley’s classic Gothic thriller remains unnerving and relevant, with movie adaptations as far flung as James Whale’s 1931 talkie that made a star of monster Boris Karloff and Mel Brooks’ explosively funny but faithful parody-cum-homage, 1974’s Young Frankenstein.

 

 

Now Guillermo del Toro lumbers into view with a typically overwrought, stuffed-to-the-gills adaptation whose elaborate visuals makes it seem as if we’re watching a video game. Bluntly directed with a sledgehammer, the film evaporates from memory as soon as it’s over, stranding good performers as Jacob Elordi (monster), Oscar Isaac (doctor) and Mia Goth (love interest). 

 

 

 

Vindication Swim 

The story of Mercedes Gleitze—a young Englishwoman who was the first female to swim the English Channel in 1927, then tried to do it again when her achievement was questioned—is certainly inspiring, and director/writer Elliott Hasler milks it for all its worth in this entertaining if conventional biopic.

 

 

As Mercedes, Kirsten Callaghan is highly impressive both in and out of the water, and the era’s anti-woman, pro-white male politics makes for a good antagonist, yet this could have been so much more memorable than it turns out to be.  

 

 

 

 

4K/UHD Releases of the Week

This latest (and last?) dramatization of the pioneering paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren’s exploits with malevolent hauntings uses the same blueprint as the series’ three earlier entries, but Michael Chaves’ overly fussy direction makes this all too familiar as its 2 hours and 15 minutes drag unnecessarily.

 

 

On the plus side, there’s solid acting by Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson as the Warrens and well-cast support from Mia Tomlinson, Ben Hardy and others as the affected Smurl family. There’s a superior UHD transfer; extras include on-set featurettes and interviews.

 

 

 

Howards End 

The peak of the uneven James Ivory-Ismail Merchant-Ruth Prawer Jhabvala team’s career was this absorbing 1992 adaptation of E.M. Forster’ classic novel about the shifting relations and attitudes among the different classes in Edwardian England: it’s old-fashioned filmmaking done so well that it’s transfixing to watch.

 

 

Ivory’s directing and Jhabvala’s writing were never equaled by them before or after, while the cast—Emma Thompson, Anthony Hopkins, Helena Bonham Carter and Vanessa Redgrave, for starters—is flawless. The film has a spectacular film-like sheen in 4K; extras include a new audio commentary, vintage Ivory and Merchant interviews,  and on-set interviews and featurettes.

 

 

 

Blu-ray Releases of the Week

Richard Strauss (1864-1949) wrote 15 operas—among them classics Salome, Der Rosenkavalier, Arabella and Capriccio—but this talky drama based on his personal life has never really caught on, despite lovely music and a wonderful lead role for the soprano playing a famous conductor’s wife, whose complicated relationship with her husband makes her seek out an affair.

 

 

Tobias Kratzer’s 2024 Berlin State Opera staging is set in the present day, which neither harms nor helps the storytelling—happily, the orchestra and conductor Donald Runnicles are in fine form, and, as Christine, Swedish soprano Maria Bengtsson gives the towering portrayal the opera needs to succeed. There’s first-rate hi-def video and audio.   

 

 

 

The Island Closest to Heaven 

Morimura Katsura’s story about Mari, a Japanese teenager visiting the ravishingly beautiful islands of New Catalonia, becomes, in director Nobuhiko Obayashi’s capable hands, a tender character study that is the opposite of his earlier, often delirious films House and School in the Crosshairs.

 

 

Buoyed by an accomplished, understated performance by Tomoyo Harada as Mari, this is a  modest, satisfying drama. There’s a good hi-def transfer; extras include an audio commentary and making-of featurette.

 

 

 

CD Releases of the Week

Two works inspired by two great American and English writers make up this terrific disc, starting with The Bells, a choral symphony by Sergei Rachmaninoff whose texts have been freely adapted from poems of Edgar Allan Poe—the creative fusion of the Russian composer’s rich melodies and American author’s unsettling imagery results in a truly unique work.

 

 

Edward Elgar and William Shakespeare are a less surprising combo, and Elgar’s symphonic study about the Bard’s wondrous comic creation Sir John Falstaff is rollicking and contemplative by turns. Vasily Petrenko leads the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in an outstanding Falstaff, and the Philharmonia Chorus and three fine soloists contribute to a superb version of The Bells. 

 

 

 

Grace Williams—Works for Orchestra 

Welsh composer Grace Williams (1906-77)—barely known on this side of the Atlantic, at least—wrote attractive music in various genres, and this disc is a worthwhile primer to anyone (like me) heretofore unfamiliar with her music.

 

 

Williams’ shimmering violin concerto has a persuasive soloist in Geneva Lewis; her supple Sinfonia concertante for piano and orchestra sounds exquisite in soloist Clare Hammond’s hands. On the concerti and brooding Elegy for string orchestra, the BBC National Orchestra of Wales sounds remarkably cohesive, considering there’s a different conductor for each work.

 

 

Making Thornton Wilder’s play The Skin of Our Teeth literally sing is not an original concept: the last time it was done here, Off-Broadway in 2017, director Arin Arbus interpolated songs by César Alvarez into the high-concept structure of Wilder’s Pulitzer Prize-winning creation, which takes a tongue-in-cheek but also deadly serious look at the Antrobus family from New Jersey (Antrobus means, not surprisingly, “human being” in Greek), whose 5,000-year existence includes a new ice age, a Biblical flood and an end-times world war in each of its three acts. (Wilder wrote it in 1942 during World War II, for context.)

 

The Skin of Our Teeth is a structural monstrosity—actors address the audience out of character, stagehands join in on the action, and a dinosaur and a mammoth have speaking parts, to name just a few—so adding songs would seem just another formal conceit that mirrors Wilder’s. The playwright heavily borrowed from James Joyce’s last novel, the punning classic Finnegans Wake—another formal experiment that has challenged readers and scholars for decades—to create the indestructible family that lives through both natural and man-made disasters. 

 

Ethan Lipton—who adapted the play and wrote the music and lyrics of this latest incarnation, retitled The Seat of Our Pants—has kept most of Wilder’s conceits, so when the Antrobus’ maid, Sabina (who becomes a beauty pageant winner stealing the father away from his family in the second act before reverting back to their maid Sabina in act three) addresses the audience at the beginning, the effect is humorous if bemusing. (Wilder shrewdly put dialogue in Sabina’s mouth that would shut down criticism about what he is trying to do with his play.)

 

Lipton is better at adapting than writing songs, which, with a couple exceptions, don’t deepen the play’s metaphorical, allegorical or literary conceits but instead regurgitate what Wilder’s alternately pointed and ponderous writing has already covered. The Skin of Our Teeth is a long, exhausting evening of theater—and The Seat of Our Pants, also long, is even more exhausting.

 

Luckily, the always resourceful director Leigh Silverman stages these seemingly random scenes of a family adrift in a world that’s at war with itself with an unerring sense of the theatrical and the metatheatrical. With choreographer Sunny Min-Sook Hitt, Silverman makes movement more telling than Lipton’s songs or even Wilder’s words. On Lee Jellinek’s cleverly pliable unit set—illuminated by Lap Chi Chu’s canny lighting design and Kaye Voyce’s colorful costumes—Silverman creates a world in which the Antrobus clan, on the precipice of extinction, manages to survive the worst of both nature and their fellow humans.

 

The large cast tackles these brazenly surrealistic characters with aplomb. Shuler Hensley’s Mr. Antrobus is charming in his dumbness, someone who knows men will always lead however unqualified they are. Damon Daunno, as son Henry, is remarkably adept at aping his father’s brainlessness while Amina Faye, as daughter Gladys, effectively embodies a shrewdness her father and brother will never know. Ruthie Anne Miles, as Mrs. Antrobus, sings beautifully (no surprise) and finds an uncomfortably devastating emotional core, especially in a brief scene when she screams in mortal pain over her dead infant son. 

 

Then there’s the Sabina of Micaela Diamond, a stage natural who, through a miraculous blend of charm, singing chops and comedic smarts, holds this unwieldy show together.