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Film and the Arts
"Sylvia" Echants With The American Ballet Theater
- Details
- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Wednesday, 23 July 2025 13:07
- Written by Jack Angstreich
Carlos Gonzalez in Sylvia. Photo: Nir Arieli.
At the matinee on Saturday, July 12th, at Lincoln Center’s marvelous Metropolitan Opera House, in the final weeks of the current, exemplary season of the extraordinary American Ballet Theater, the company performed one of the greatest works in its repertory, the Frederick Ashton masterpiece, Sylvia, from 1952, set to the wonderful score—it was, apparently, deeply admired by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky — by Léo Delibes, who is also famous as the composer of another celebrated ballet, Coppélia, in addition to the lovely opera, Lakmé, especially well-known for its glorious “Flower Duet” and its aria, the “Bell Song.”
Ashton would seem to be—with George Balanchine—the most astonishing choreographer of the 20th century, with an ostensibly boundless originality and creativity evident at every moment in this work. The ballet’s scenario is inspired by the “neoclassical” Aminta by Torquato Tasso, a colossal figure in late Italian Renaissance poetry. The excellent staging is by Susan Jones, with attractive original designs by Robin and Christopher Ironside and additional ones by Peter Farmer. (The effective lighting is by Mark Jonathan.)
The performance I attended had a remarkable primary cast led by Catherine Hurlin who shone brilliantly as the nymph of the title. She was partnered unexpectedly strongly by Calvin Royal III as the shepherd Aminta, here dancing at his seldom seen best. Cory Stearns who has matured laudably as a dancer, was also very fine as the evil hunter Orion. (I did once see this production here—and previously reviewed on this site—indelibly performed by the incomparable trio of Maria Kochetkova, Herman Cornejo and Daniil Simkin in the main roles.)
Striking assistance was provided by the other significant players — Carlos Gonzalez as the god Eros and Virginia Lenssi as the goddess Diana — while the very many other dazzling dancers, particularly in the fabulous series of divertissements in the final act,are unfortunately too numerous to record here. The sterling corps de ballet was, as usual, terrific.
Revisiting this production now, the staging seemed more powerful than my earlier recollection. I look forward to the return of this essential company in the fall of this year.
Classical Review—Gabriel Fauré Recital at the 92 Street Y
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- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Tuesday, 22 July 2025 00:36
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Bell-Isserlis-Denk Trio & Friends
July 9, 2025
92 St Y, 1395 Lexington Ave, New York City
92ny.org
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| Bell, Duval, Denk, Engstroem and Isserlis performing Fauré’s First Piano Quintet |
(photo: Michael Priest Photography)
Just a notch above Sergei Prokofiev and Ralph Vaughan-Williams, Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924) is my favorite classical composer. A master of small forms, Fauré wrote magnificent chamber music—his piano trio, quartets and quintets; cello and violin sonatas; and string quartet are all masterpieces.
I discovered Fauré’s musical elegance about four decades ago, when I saw French film director Bertrand Tavernier’s classic Un Dimanche à la Campagne (A Sunday in the Country), which used excerpts from Fauré’s late chamber pieces to incisive effect. Indeed, critic John Simon, in his 1985 rave of Tavernier’s film, wrote that conductor Herbert von Karajan sent a letter to Tavernier congratulating him on what Karajan considered, in the broadest sense, the most musical film he had ever seen.
To its credit, for its Midsummer MusicFest, the 92nd Street Y on Manhattan’s Upper East Side brought the Bell-Isserlis-Denk Trio & Friends—violinist Joshua Bell, cellist Steven Isserlis, pianist Jeremy Denk, with their friends, violinist Irène Duval and violist Blythe Teh Engstroem—for two all-Fauré concerts jammed with chamber masterworks.
I was only able to attend the first night (even though the second recital had even better works on the program) but was delighted by the passionate and precise performances of such glorious music of quiet clarity and eloquence.
The July 9 concert began with Fauré’s mighty A-major Violin Sonata, the most well-known work on the program, expressively performed by Bell and Denk. Isserlis then joined the pair for an artful reading of the sublime Piano Trio.
After intermission, Isserlis and Denk played lovely versions of two of Fauré’s small-scale gems: the Sicilienne (which features one of the composer’s most ravishing melodies) and Berceuse. I would have preferred to hear one of Fauré’s two great cello sonatas—both among the peak works of his late period—instead of these subtle miniatures, but Isserlis must have had a good reason for excluding them.
This remarkable concert ended with all the musicians onstage to play Fauré’s masterly Piano Quintet No. 1, one of his most brilliant works—although I prefer, by just a hair, the even more majestically intimate second quintet. The interplay, energy and ebullience of the performers during this heavenly half hour was something I haven’t experienced very often.
Kudos to the five friends—and bravo to Gabriel Fauré!
July '25 Digital Week II
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- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Thursday, 10 July 2025 22:14
- Written by Kevin Filipski
4K/UHD Release of the Week
Sinners
(Warner Bros)
Ryan Coogler’s ambitious epic, which marries African American and ethnic music history to a metaphorical vampire saga, is an often exhilarating—and quite often enervating—entertainment that’s a more successful popcorn movie than it is the dramatically incisive exploration of racism in the Jim Crow South that it aspires to.
Led by Michael B. Jordan’s superb dual performance as the Smokestack twins, the cast also features knockout turns by Hailee Steinfeld, Jack O’Connell, Lola Kirke, Miles Caton and Delroy Lindo—only blues legend Buddy Guy, in an unnecessary epilogue (shown after some of the end credits, a bizarrely awkward choice), comes off amateurishly. Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s magnificent cinematography, Michael Shawver’s razor-sharp editing and Ludwig Göransson’s savvily eclectic score contribute handsomely to making this a visceral thrill. The UHD imagery looks stunning; extras comprise more than an hour of on-set footage and interviews along with 18 minutes of deleted scenes.
F1—The Movie
(Apple/Warner Bros)
Brad Pitt’s laconic charm is on display throughout this overlong commercial for Formula 1 racing: for two and a half hours, director Joseph Kosinski takes us on a relentlessly formulaic journey through several races, each of which writer Ehren Kruger tries his damnedest to make singular rather than repetitive.
Kosinski and Kruger fail, for the most part, while the off-track scenes of Pitt as retired daredevil driver Sonny (who comes out of retirement), Damson Idris as young hotshot driver Joshua, Javier Bardem as team owner Ruben (who talks Sonny into returning) and Kerry Condon as Kate, the brains of the outfit (who—of course—falls for Sonny against her better judgment) are pretty ordinary. It’s shot and paced efficiently and slickly, but if you’re a fan of cars flying around a track at 200 miles an hour, then your—um—mileage may vary.
40 Acres
(Magnolia)
What begins as unsettling post-apocalyptic sci-fi whose plot follows an Afro-Indigenous family defending its valuable farm from hordes of cannibalistic marauders in a not-too-distant future of famine and anarchy turns into a standard-issue drama bogged down by the usual genre tropes.
It’s too bad that R.T. Thorne’s writing and directing debut doesn’t live up to its potential, for there are a lot of interesting ideas at work—but unsubtlety (the family’s name is Freeman, for example) and implausible characterizations/relationships mitigate the film’s more original moments. The impressively physical cast is led by Danielle Deadwyler and Kataem O’Connor.
Pretty Thing
(Shout! Studios)
In this tepid twist on Fatal Attraction, Alicia Silverstone is Sophie, a successful executive who favors casual hookups, but after she hooks up with the younger Elliot (including a torrid Paris weekend), she can’t shake him, leading to serious consequences.
Silverstone is surprisingly good in the Michael Douglas role, but Karl Glusman is overwrought and hammy in the Glenn Close part, which—with Justin Kelly’s choppy direction and Jack Donnelly’s by-the-numbers script—makes this a watchable but routine revenge thriller.
Streaming Release of the Week
Let Me Go
(Omnibus)
Swiss director-cowriter Maxime Rappaz makes her feature debut with this intriguingly off-kilter study of Claudine, a middle-aged seamstress who cares for her mentally impaired adult son as well as regularly travels from her small town to a Geneva hotel where she hooks up with single male travelers for no-strings-attached trysts.
But she soon meets a German who upsets her well-ordered personal world. Rappaz’ offbeat character study ends up too reliant on cliches, but the film is helped immeasurably by Jeanne Balibar’s emotionally vulnerable portrayal of Claudine.
Ginastera—String Quartets
(Pentatone)
Argentine master Alberto Ginastera (1916-83) might be best known for his tango music and its variations, but his works in forms ranging from orchestral music to operas to chamber pieces are notable for their originality and vigor. His three string quartets are prime examples of his virtuosity; written in three distinct styles, they respectively integrate his local folk-music studies, mid-century modernism and a distinctive late style of pure emotion.
The Miró Quartet plays these thrillingly idiosyncratic works with the necessary power and finesse, while soprano Keira Duffy gives beautifully ethereal voice to the Spanish-language poems that make up three movements of the third quartet, a remarkably haunting “hallucination,” in Ginastera’s own description.
Broadway Play Review—“Call Me Izzy” with Jean Smart
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- Parent Category: Film and the Arts
- Category: Reviews
- Published on Monday, 07 July 2025 18:03
- Written by Kevin Filipski
Call Me Izzy
Written by Jamie Max; directed by Sarnia Lapine
Performances through August 17, 2025
Studio 54; 254 West 54th Street, NYC
callmeizzyplay.com
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| Jean Smart in Call Me Izzy (photo: Marc J. Franklin) |
First, the good news: Jean Smart is killing it on Broadway. Now, the not-so-good news: the play she’s in, Call Me Izzy, is a creaky solo vehicle.
Call Me Izzy is narrated by the chipper and chatty Isabelle, a middle-aged wife living in a trailer park with her longtime husband Ferd, who—we come to discover—has been abusing her for years, physically and emotionally. Izzy was a smart student who loved to write; indeed, she could have attended college but since she—like so many other Southern belles of her generation—married immediately after high school, she had no choice but to be a stay-at-home wife and, soon, mother…although her son tragically died shortly after birth, further alienating Ferd from Izzy.
As the above shows, Max’s play follows a typical—even stereotypical—trajectory, as Izzy narrates a life that unfolds promisingly but is ultimately shut down by a dominating husband. Izzy gets another chance later in her marriage when she joins a free night writing class at the community college and her stories are entered in a contest to spend time at a New England writing retreat. She wins but realizes she’ll never convince Ferd to let her go, so she never mentions it. But soon the couple running the retreat comes to rural Louisiana to meet them for dinner and, they hope, convince her to join them. Unsurprisingly, Izzy pays dearly for that evening, despite Ferd and the husband and Izzy and the wife bonding for a moment.
Will Izzy break free of Ferd or will she stay, petrified of his drunken rages? It’s all so predictably, sentimentally sketched out by Max, who is not above (or below) relying on such contrivances as Izzy locking herself in the bathroom to secretly write after Ferd destroys decades’ worth of her journals—she uses toilet paper and hides the contraband in a box she hides from Ferd. But would he really not find her latest musings after what he did earlier? And Izzy implausibly has an affair with her writing teacher in her own home, where they carry on merrily without getting caught.
Call Me Izzy is rife with such inconsistencies, yet Max has written a juicy titular role that Smart dazzlingly makes her own, bringing the audience into her confidence and making us care about as well as laugh and cry along with her. Smart brings haunting heartbreak to the (unfortunately clichéd) final scene, which finds Izzy trapped between confinement and freedom.
Despite Smart’s acting tour de force and Sarnia Lapine’s understated direction, Call Me Izzy never feels like a fully-formed play. Here’s hoping Smart will return to Broadway in a meatier role, something like Winnie in Beckett’s Happy Days.
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