Reinvention: The Journal of a Dog-Lover, Book-Reader, Moviegoer, and Writer

Let Oscar Season Begin

2012-01-24T07:26:00.002-06:00

It is now 30 minutes before the announcement of this year's Oscar nominations.

Time to get back to living.... back to blogging...back to moviegoing..... and back to adding my small bit to this art form (and hobby) we call film criticism....

First, though,I want to thank all of you for your understanding, and for your kind words and support, during my sabbatical and period of reflection as I worked through of a mountain of difficult tasks during the last month. It is not over...but the light is starting to emerge....

Just a brief note before Oscar season kicks off in earnest:

Despite my disappointment with the state of filmmaking over the long Spring and Summer, the movie year has shaped up to be overall one of the most interesting in years. All of the high-profile Oscar hopefuls, based on the precedents of Critic's Awards, Golden Globes, and word-of-mouth, are movies that I have enjoyed and appreciated on many levels.

This year's potential Oscar nominees are also a decidedly lighthearted bunch, filled with nostalgia for the great literature and art and filmmaking of days gone by; and proving, by their audacious appearance on big screens in 2012, that we can still be entertained, stimulated, and aesthetically pleased by classic movie subjects and techniques that are in danger of being obliterated by studios in their search for big audiences.

Look for more---much more--about this idea in subsequent posts.....

Meanwhile, I will be cheering for the following favorites, should they be announced in the next 20 minutes:
"The Artist".. Meryl Streeep..."Midnight in Paris"... Michael Fassbender... Viola Davis... "Hugo".... Ludovic Bource..... "The Descendants".......Michelle Williams.... Martin Scorsese... Joseph Gordon-Levitt... Christopher Plummer... "Moneyball".... Jessica Chastain.... Emmanuel Luzbecki... Octavia Spencer.... Jean Dujardin.... Michael Hazavanicius... "The Help"....George Clooney....Corey Stoll... WOODY... TERRENCE...."TREE OF LIFE!" (and a little groan if I hear the words Edgar, Bridesmaids, or Tattoo)...

And a special shout-out to the Best Supporting Actors of the Year who will not be nominated...Uggie and Cosmo.

Here's to a fun, artistic, and enlightening Oscar contest....

Thomas M.--1928-2012

2012-01-15T19:00:00.004-06:00

An important chapter has now drawn to a close. It was written in anguish and caring, and in a strange way was predicted by the movies......

My father died on a quiet Saturday morning yesterday, January 14, 2012, one day after being released from the hospital to hospice care.

Not that it matters now, but he expired from the effects an as-yet-unknown cancer. Brain tumors appeared to be the cause of his continued falls, and disorientation. Until then there were no apparent symptoms.

He declined rapidly, in spite of a team of medical professionals, who sometimes seemed intent on thwarting my efforts to advocate for his recovery. He passed peacefully.

My mother, who has struggled against her own afflictions of the mind and emotion, was released from the same hospital on the same Friday, and moved into the same nursing care facility on the same day as my father. On the same floor. We tried very hard to ensure that they would have some time together during his final weeks.

They had one day.

When the call came in, I felt anxiety drain out of my body through the floor. There was so much we had to do for them since Thanksgiving, and now there is so much more to be done. One just snaps to.

Emotions came in intermittent bursts throughout the day.

Mark and I, and my sister and her husband, rallied to my mother's side to catch the fallout of....what, we could not easily predict. Confusion? Hysteria? Resignation? Relapse? She had come through her treatments so well....

Fortunately, amid some uncertainty, and the normal show of grief, my mom did fine. She was a little confused, and mistook my father's death for that of her own father 10 years ago. No matter. She had her way of dealing with it, and it kept her strong, and pleasant.

The staff of her nursing facility was compassionate and low-key.

Mark could not have been a better support... He did what I needed, and stayed next to me all the time.

Our friends showed themselves to be loyal and worthy of our best esteem. Phone calls, emails, and visits with food, and never intrusive, but always caring. Thanks to them all.

I have not blogged here for a while. The overwhelming emotion of the last few weeks, and the drain on normal energy levels, kept me from committing to this effort. Many nights, while feeling like I had to be in at least five different places at the same time (the hospital, the nursing home, my parent's house for cleanup, the attorney's office, my own job, etc.), I hated myself for neglecting my writing.

A strange calm has possessed me and Mark and our little household.

I feel like writing again.

I want to read, and follow the zany antics of the Hollywood Foreign Press. Tomorrow will be busy and anxiety-producing. For tonight, little would please me more than to see Woody and "Paris" receive an accolade.

**************

In a strange way, the movies of 2011 pay subtle tribute to our family's loss. "The Artist" spans a few years beginning in 1928, the year my father was born. In "Hugo", the young central character adjusts to the loss of his father. In "Beginners", another character, closer to my age and experience, looks back on the weeks leading up to his father's death. "The Descendants" observes a family whose mother, while not deceased, is no longer present for them. "My Week With Marilyn" recreates the atmosphere of the mid 1950's, when my parents were married. And "Tree of Life" looks at an average suburban family, and attempts to depict not only the origins of that life, but a speculation on their afterlife.

I am eager to return to the blogosphere, once the dust settles.....

A 2012 Deadline I Won't Miss!

2011-12-31T17:49:00.002-06:00

I know, I know.. I am behind on my reviews. But they ARE on the way... So look for "The Artist", "My Week With Marilyn", and possibly "War Horse", in the coming week. Also, I'll have a review of the year in movies, and a general 2011 retrospective.

In the meantime, this post is time-sensitive....and my deadline is midnight....

I and some of my friends below wish you all a Happy New Year! (Special greetings to my blog-buddies and supporters: Mark, Ben, Walter, Andrew, Luke, Jose, Stephen, Mike, and everyone who stopped by this past year!)

All the best in 2012!

Coming Soon: The Movie Year 2011

2011-12-28T00:04:00.001-06:00

I just watched "Beginners" again at home, on DVD. It is a wonderful little film. My review, written this past June, did not do it complete justice. Christopher Plummer was even more impressive this time; and the treatment of a son's attempt to comfort a dying father held a special resonance and relevance to me.

**********

Tomorrow I will post a review of "The Artist". Along with "Beginners", both films charmed me with their canine supporting players, both of them Jack Russell Terriers with the sweetest faces.
"The Artist" was one of my most highly anticipated films of the year. I am anxious to share my thoughts about this movie.

**********

In addition to "Beginners", the holiday added a slew of great new films to my personal collection (some of which will be re-viewed on these "pages") including "The Deer Hunter", "Gods and Monsters", "Never Let Me Go", "Inside Job", "Midnight in Paris", "The King's Speech", "Black Swan", "The Exorcist", and "The Thin Red Line".

**********

When time permits, I'll be checking out "My Week With Marilyn", "War Horse", and "Shame". I am not yet convinced that I will derive much from "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo". "The Iron Lady" and "Albert Nobbs" have yet to be released in Chicago.

**********

2011 was a memorable, heartbreaking and infuriating year. Great travel, memorable music, an end-of-year movie bonanza, and wonderful Chicago weekends alternated with heartbreaking world news, infuriating politics, and a series of family traumas that have left me numb. I cherish my closest friends, my readers, my animals, and Mark for helping me keep my feet on the ground as it continued to shift under me.

Looking ahead, Oscars 2011 should provide a well-needed escape, as well as an exciting showcase of some truly great movies (I hope). I will weigh in at regular intervals. I'll also take my annual look back to Oscars 40 years ago, when in 1971 the big names were Friedkin and Hackman and Fonda, when New York was the backdrop to the year's most honored films, and when the Russian Revolution played side-by-side with futuristic British gang wars at local cinemas.

A Caroler at Your Door! A Christmas Journal #2

2011-12-25T19:38:00.001-06:00

Remembering old friends this season...especially the humorous, four-legged ones who put up with our fashion experiments.

If Maggie were still here, she would gladly have sung (er, howled) your favorite carols, right at your door.

Wishing you music and good cheer today.......

A Personal Holiday Anecdote: Christmas Journal #1

2011-12-25T15:26:00.000-06:00

It turned out to be a better day than I had expected. It was a long, long way from the normal, comfortable holiday we have shared at my parents' house since time began. Even so, we are adjusting to a new reality, and are breathing a small sigh of relief, at least for today.

During the past week, after a series of incapacitating falls at home, my father was taken to the Emergency Room, and admitted to the hospital for observation and a battery of tests. He is in the same hospital where my mother is now, and has been for a good part of the year, for treatment of dementia and other psychological maladies.

My mother has been frantic at the sudden end to my father's daily visits to her ward, where geriatric patients are secured behind a locked door for treatment of various emotional and cognitive impairments.

Since it was impossible for them to visit each other due to my father's serious condition, he is stable enough now, and she has become strong enough, for her to be informed of his whereabouts, and to arrange for a visit between them.

That is how I, my sister, and Mark, spent our Christmas afternoon. We signed my mother out and then wheeled her to the tower clear across the hospital, to my father's room. It was a brief visit, with small gifts, fresh-baked banana bread, a little confusion, some slurred speech, and a smile out of each of them. And, of course, a tearful departure as we brought mom back to her floor.

It has been a time for being a little numb. Our immediate thought today was to make sure their special visit could be arranged, and to finally allow my mother to know the truth of my father's health. Her obsessive fear of him being ill or dying has contributed to her anxiety. Now, she can begin to deal with this fear in an honest way.

All of the other things: their eventual discharge and placement in nursing homes, and the maintenance and/or sale of their current home, will wait another day.

To all of you, especially those who are hurting this Christmas, there are those of us who understand, and wish you peace and support in 2012.

A "Buddy" Christmas

2011-12-24T11:07:00.000-06:00

A Brick for Buddy:

What do you give as a Christmas gift to an 86-year-old woman who has everything she needs?

If she likes animals, like Mark's mother does, then a sponsorship to an animal-care organization is a nice idea.

At The Buddy Foundation, a wonderful shelter for homeless dogs and cats in suburban Arlington Heights, a donor can sponsor them by buying a personalized paving brick to be placed in the area surrounding the front walk.

This is what we did for Mark's mom. The 8"x4" red brick will be engraved simply, with her name and the words "and family", and a paw-print graphic. It will be placed when Spring arrives. Meanwhile, we gave her a commemorative certificate to acknowledge her donation, which will forever show her caring for the creatures within.

Christmas Tree Stars:

If any of you would like to remember a special pet, living or not, send me the name and kind of animal. I will donate to the Buddy Foundation on your behalf, and write your

pet(s) name(s) on a yellow star that is hung on the big Christmas tree in the foyer.

Your pet can join Maggie, our dear departed Bassett Hound, and B.C., a black cat that recently left the care of Mark's sister and brother-in-law.

The dogs and cats of the Buddy Foundation can't tell you how much they appreciate your care during this holiday season. So I will tell you myself! Thanks.

I Am A "Modern Family" Junkie

2011-12-22T16:00:00.003-06:00

Today, I'm moving on to a more lighthearted look at "family", after the somber, personal musings of my previous entry...

As some readers have guessed, I don't watch a lot of television. It's more of a timing thing, as I have so many other likes, hobbies, and responsibilities. I tune in for movies, news, special live broadcasts, ad retro stuff.

I had never watched a full episode of the ABC family comedy "Modern Family", in spite of media raves and the urging of friends, until earlier this week. Mark received the Season 1 DVD at a holiday office-party gift-exchange.

Since then we watched the first six episodes, and now I am hooked.

"Modern Family" breathes contemporary life into the traditionally crowd-pleasing but recently tired and pandering sitcom genre. Using recent techniques like roving camera, into-the-lens interviews, and characters stealing sly glances right at us, this show remembers the conventions that made the family comedy so comfortable and so funny.

It is filled with hilarious situations, mining today's culture for honest and satiric observations that make us laugh in recognition. It offers recognizable locations, and actual establishing shots. The characters are funny and foibled, but have a warm center of humanity, and we love spending time with them. It is filmed and directed with impeccable care, and the tone is consistently sunny yet does not blink from the embarrassments of real life.

I have not laughed so hard at a TV series in years.. Nor have I loved the characters in quite the same way. I have developed a real affection for the foibles of these characters, so sharply written and so precisely and joyously performed by a talented cast.

I especially love Ty Burr's lovable but fumbling "cool dad", Sofia Vergara's fiery and fun-loving Colombiana with Rico Rodriguez as her precocious son, and the amazingly rare and warm portrayal of a male couple in Suburbia (Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet) as the newly adoptive parents of a South Asian baby girl. In fact, the entire cast, rounded out by Ed O'Neill, Julie Bowen, Nolan Gould, Sarah Hyland and Ariel Winter, are all fabulous.

Best of all: All of the characters are related, either by blood or marriage, with surprising and funny connections.

The show pokes fun at everyone and everything that forms part of our middle-class culture: multi-cultural households, middle-age and beyond, parents as buddies, kids and their gadgets, gay drama queens, Costco, female competition, and male bonding. And that's just the first six episodes.

I can't wait to finish Season 1, and devour Season 2 as well, and report on it later!

The Child Is Father to the Man (and Woman)--A Personal Journal

2011-12-20T23:52:00.003-06:00

My muse has been wrestling with reality lately. So far, reality has an edge in this week's match.

I have never had children. But I am unique among my friends, in that both of my parents are still alive. At 77 and 83 respectively, my mother and father have shown alarming symptoms of age-related decline over the past year.

I have had to reinvent myself as a caretaker of two often difficult people with difficult challenges and ailments. There are no road-maps for people like me, known as The Sandwich Generation. *

(Although, without children, I am more of an open-faced sandwich.)

I try my best to provide basic needs, safety and comfort to a mother whose world has finally diminished to a small space of fear and forgetfulness, of self-neglect and mindless distraction to others; and to a father who has used silence and rage in equal measure to maintain his view of life and our place in it, who has stubbornly refused offers of help or requests to discuss future plans.

In brief, there was the car accident last Spring; the trauma; my fragile mother's breakdown; my father's annoyance and denial; an initial hospitalization; treatment by electricity; frantic uncertainty; more denial, and a relapse.

There is my father's lack of mobility due to recent falls, his rapid weight loss, and his refusal to have his injuries examined. Cognitive decline is evident, possibly due to lack of sleep. That is due in large part to his insistence on caring for my mom at home....

My mother is in the early stages of dementia, and chronic (maybe lifelong) depression. After returning home last June, she had not slept a whole night, and continued to keep my father awake. She was filled with anxiety and confusion, asked the same questions over and over, and responded with belligerence to attempts to care for her. It had been violently chaotic. It was recommended that a hospital stay would be best. I agreed.

In this, her second hospitalization of the year, her medical professionals have deemed her unfit to ever return home, and so tomorrow, we must look at the situation and begin to make some hard decisions.

American medicine, and our culture at large, seem unsympathetic to the helplessness and pain of old age.

In this journal I have chosen not to dwell on these things. I never felt that this journal's purpose was as a confessional, or as a way to elicit sympathy. I feel that unless one knows the characters involved, it is difficult to make this relevant and to foster understanding with only one or two brief entries. There are privacy concerns as well.

Writing this now, as a way to refocus my efforts and clear my mind for appreciation of higher culture and the kind of writing I want to do, I realize that there is so much more to all of this. The story of my parents, as viewed through the eyes of a son who always felt responsible for making them happy, and who followed his own path with a mixture of regret and pride, is so complex, and so deep, that this could make for a novel.

You might think you have read this story before. But if I ever decide to pursue this and shape it artistically, and do it justice, it could be a stunner, the novel I was meant to write. But it might be so painful, I might not recover.

At such an intense time in the life of this narrator, I felt it was helpful to share some of the events that have consumed my time and mental energy, to put them in perspective. I intend to return to film and art and animals and politics as the rightful topics of this journal.

Perhaps, instead of avoiding this topic altogether, I might visit it with more frequency. It would be a release for me, a therapy. If I can write compellingly, so that others will read with keen interest, then I will grow as a writer. If I share what I am learning from the experience, it might do someone else some good.

I conclude with a brief anecdote:

My parents have never been demonstrative with their affections. More often, as a child, I witnessed hair-raising conflict, and always felt at fault. It was rare to see them embrace, or to hear them speak endearingly. Last night, as I started to wheel my father from the hospital at the close of visiting hours with my mother, I saw them reach toward each other tentatively, as if to shake hands. My mother mouthed the words, "I love you". My father replied "I love you too".

Had they been able to do that at home, instead of maintain the horror show that was their dysfunction, I would bet that things would have turned out so much differently.

Thank you for listening.. I will return from time to time to relate any progress that we have made.

(* If you are a parental caretaker, check out this web site designed to provide help and information, researched and written by Carol Abaya, M.A.)

Holiday Images In Chicago--A Saturday Photo-Journal

2011-12-17T23:55:00.050-06:00

Tonight I am taking a small holiday from writing, in order to share some photographs I shot a few weeks ago, on the day after Thanksgiving as we joined the crowds in downtown Chicago.

It feels right for me to think back on that wonderful day, to get into a Holiday spirit.

It's great fun to be in the city, especially with friends and loved ones. That day, Mark and Jillian and I formed an invincible trio.

We blended into the Black Friday crowds, walked to the Art Institute, had dinner together, and explored the Chicago Cultural Center (which I'll highlight in an upcoming journal entry). We finished the evening at the Goodman Theater, with "Memphis".

I hope my visitors will enjoy these images as much as I enjoyed taking them.

Macy's, formerly Marshall Fields on State Street

A Sidewalk Puppet Theater regularly seen on the North Side

"GO DO GOOD"

Mark, Jillian and 'A Christmas Story'

The "L" and shopping crowds

Jillian, Mark, and the Wreathing of the Art Institute Lions

Promoting the Friday Night Holiday Concerts at Cloud Gate ("The Bean")--Windy City Performing Arts had a show on December 9th

The enormous human-face light mosaic in Millenium park

Ice Skating in the Park

The Goodman Theater, where "Memphis" played, taken a few hours before showtime

A Notable Golden Globe Omission

2011-12-16T23:23:00.005-06:00

A brief musing on this year's Golden Globe Nominations-- There is one title that is noticeably absent from the list.

After some despair this summer over a lack of mature, intelligent and original films, the fall season has exploded with movies that have appealed to me and that have been cinematically satisfying.

I'm proud that the films I chose to attend during the year are being recognized in large measure by the year-end critic's awards. On this blog I have favorably reviewed several films that are now appearing on nominee lists everywhere: "Midnight in Paris", "The Descendants", "The Beginners", "Hugo", "The Ides of March", "Moneyball", "50/50", "Take Shelter", "The Help". Even Films that I mostly disliked, like "Drive" and "J. Edgar", have captured some nominations.

And I have yet to see "The Artist", "War Horse", "My Week With Marilyn" and "Iron Lady", all of which are of sincere interest to me.

But one film was completely ignored by the Hollywood Foreign Press. And its absence has made me realize that it is perhaps the most interesting movie I have seen all year, and certainly the most beautiful.

It is, of course, "The Tree of Life".

No film has stimulated more thought, made me see and feel more deeply, or left me with so many questions worth pondering. It is freaking miraculous that this film was seen on American movie screens at all, and discussed favorably by so many viewers.

It seems fitting that "Tree of Life" is not a guest at the Golden Globe party. It is too lofty. It is like an eagle soaring above the common fray of activity, too concerned with more noble ideas. Great as many of this year's films have been, the ambitions of "The Tree of Life" remove it from the realm of simple filmmaking. To throw it into competition for a movie award feels odd, like entering Beauty and Truth into a popularity contest.

The Dogs of "Hugo"

2011-12-14T22:39:00.000-06:00

Recently this blog looked at Academy Award-Winning Best Pictures that featured dogs in significant roles. (See "The Dogs of Oscar's Best Picture: Will 2011 Be Dog-Friendly?" December 1).

While dogs have remained mostly in the doghouse as far as the Academy is concerned, I concluded with some hope that this year, Oscar's Best might also feature a Lead Dog.

"Beginners" and "50/50" are definite long-shots for the top prize, but "The Artist" seems to have legs (four of them) and its adorable Jack Russell Terrier could be the first with a significant role in the Academy's Big Film.

And now "Hugo", another period piece about the early days of filmmaking, is a strong contender with an Important Dog!

The station-master's loyal Doberman follows orders to apprehend orphans who hide in the Paris train station. Fierce, fast, and frightening at first, this dog carries important segments of the film's plot, and like his owner, is redeemed as a not-so-bad creature by the film's end.

In addition, two amorous, long-haired dachshunds provide marvelous support in a subplot involving a widow, who is a perennial occupant of the cafe, and her suitor, who must overcome the snapping jaws of the little hot-dog by providing her with a canine companion of her own.

"Hugo" and "The Artist" have been universally recognized by critic's groups in their list of award nominees and winners. This gives both films good odds in the upcoming Oscar contest, which could be the most dog-friendly competition since "Babe" was a nominee in 1995.

How can you not love it?

(Read on for my "epic" review of "Hugo" Dec. 13)

"Hugo" A Triumph, And A Good Case For Film Preservation (My Epic Review)

2011-12-13T23:28:00.016-06:00

"If you ever wonder where your dreams come from, look around: this is where they're made."
--George Melies in "Hugo"

Martin Scorsese's "Hugo" is a visual treat, a magical children's story that morphs into an arresting biography of a real-life motion picture pioneer. It is also an effective plea for the preservation of old movies.

This is unlike anything Scorsese has ever directed before. Having freed himself from the constraints of his usual material (gangsters and underworld crime), and his often self-parodic style (hothouse lighting, exclamatory camera movement, classic-rock soundtrack) it is as if Scorsese had just seen a movie for the first time, or re-discovered a new magic in making films. He identifies with this character's imagination, and his love of film.

"Hugo" is a finely focused story which utilizes the film medium to the utmost. It is in 3D (about which I'll say more later), and yet it is so rich in detail and wonderful imagery that it can be enjoyed "flat" with little to diminish it. Of the few 3D films I have seen since they began popping up a few years ago, "Hugo" makes the best use of the technology.

Scorsese is in his element with this tale of a young orphan named Hugo Cabret, a mechanical whiz and lover of movies, who lives in the walls of a Paris train station in the 1930's. After Hugo's loving father meets an untimely end, and his clockmaker uncle abandons him, Hugo continues to wind all of the clocks in the station, and looks for the heart-shaped key that will activate a special mechanical man, or automaton, that may contain a message from Hugo's father.

Surviving on his own by stealing food and small items, and parts for his automaton, and avoiding the clutches of a darkly comical Station Attendant who loves to return homeless boys to the orphanage, Hugo eventually falls into the bad graces of George, the station's toy-maker, who takes Hugo's notebook filled with drawings as punishment for Hugo's thievery. Hugo befriends the toy-maker's goddaughter Isabelle, and soon they are in the midst of a breathtaking adventure in which they unlock the mystery of Papa George's past, using the history and magic of filmmaking as the key.

Along the way there is comedy, action, some terrific stuff with dogs, suspense, beautifully realized performances, and some of the most awesome shots of the year. "Hugo", while a bit frenetic in its first half hour, gets better and better as it goes along. Some viewers, who expect slam-bang slapstick throughout, may not appreciate that the film finally settles down into a richer, more historic realm, but film fans will hunker down for a gentler, more awesome good time.

I have never seen Scorsese enjoy himself as much (the move from New York to Paris has done him good), and I have never had such fun at a Scorsese film. The word "innocence" comes to mind: I like this new-found innocence in Scorsese, his playfulness. He has rarely directed children, and his success is in that area is another happy surprise.

This new tone also showcases and enhances Scorsese's formidable skills as a filmmaker, and a visionary one, more than much of his later work. It is as though a skilled musician suddenly proved himself as a master conductor. There is nothing too menacing here; we are meant to immerse ourselves in a wondrous world. It's classic material, in the manner of a lighthearted, non-musical "Oliver", or even this generation's "Mary Poppins".

And yet Scorsese has something more lasting that he would like for us to take away from this film. That is, an appreciation for the cultural heritage that movies have allowed viewers to share through the decades; and a knowledge of the origins of this art form called the motion picture, knowlege that we have lost through the generations. What comes through most is Scorsese's enthusiastic invitation for us to care about history, and more importantly film history, and to see the benefits of preserving it.

The story of George Melies is intricately woven through this tale of a boy whose love of tinkering was the creative spirit behind the earliest movies. Scorsese and his superior crew of designers technicians, musicians and performers provide us with a wealth of information, and a kaleidoscope of fantasy and incident and subplot, which enter through our hearts and stimulate our thinking. Special mention needs to be made of Dante Ferretti's sets, which are a marvel of imagination and aesthetic pleasure. All the while, "Hugo" sets our own imaginations spinning and our own creative juices flowing.

(Read here for more about George Melies' life)

"Hugo" does a great service by resurrecting the long-forgotten figure of Melies, who was responsible for so much amazing film technique and technology, presenting his life story rather faithfully, and making him relevant to today's filmmakers and moviegoers. It is by necessity a sentimental story, and an uplifting one, and a rare experience at the cinema today.

It's interesting that today, in a time when advances in motion picture technology threaten to destroy the emotional and intellectual pleasures of movies in favor of pure sensation, a film like "Hugo" (and even "The Artist") wants to allow viewers to retreat into the origins of what made cinema the popular art form that it has become, before those origins are gone for good, totally forgotten. By doing so, we realize that the more "primitive" effects that were invented by pioneers like Melies (and that are still possible to achieve with simple home-movie equipment) are extremely effective. All we needed was the encouragement to really see them.

If you love movies and the history of filmmaking, you have to see "Hugo". Most of us are familiar with Melies' "A Trip To The Moon", in which a rocket ship lands in the eye of the man in the moon. (Oscar buffs know that this short film was used in the opening sequence of the 1956 Best Picture, "Around the World in 80 Days".) But Scorsese uses many different clips from Melies' surviving catalog, and re-creates the making of these films. We also learn that after exhaustive searches and meticulous restoration, at least 200 of Melies' films, thought to be lost, have been saved, and are available for viewing. What better advertisement for modern film preservation?

Hugo and Isabelle are our on-screen surrogates as we see Melies' remarkable story come to life: of Melies' days as a magician, his introduction to the movies (with the Lumiere Brother's train arrival that made viewers duck in panic), his romance and marriage to his leading lady, his construction of an all-glass studio to let in natural lighting, and his downfall after World War I took Melies' movies out of popular favor.

It is heartening to see the character of Melies be paid tribute in a movie today. It is also a treat to have a happy ending, without irony, as all of the characters find love and belonging.

Scorsese takes old scenes and recreates them for his story as well. I defy viewers not to duck, as early audiences did, when a train speeds toward us, threatening to collide with Hugo on the tracks. I laughed as Hugo hung from the hands of a large clock in the manner of Harold Lloyd in "Safety Last", also showcased in this film. And watch how seamlessly the contemporary actors are incorporated in the older footage to give the clips authenticity. Throughout, Scorsese masters an unfamiliar technology, and as a result, makes us pay attention, and leaves us with the same feelings of discovery that Scorsese, and Melies, must have felt.

Asa Butterfield, as Hugo, has a quality of a young Elijah Wood. Butterfield perfectly captures Hugo's curiosity and sly mischief as well as his sentiment and fierce determination. Few bits of acting this year can top Butterfield's appeal to the Station Master's own sad history as an orphan. Sacha Baron Cohen, with a thick mustache and trick leg, is terribly appealing as the "villain" of the piece who is redeemed by the attentions of a sympathetic flower girl (the beautiful Emily Mortimer). Cohen is a skillful character actor, maintaining dramatic tension while keeping the humor close to the surface. Chloe Grace Moretz convinces as a young Parisienne who captures Hugo's attentions, and his heart, and is a fun partner in his adventures.

Ben Kinglsey is a revelation here. While the role is not terribly demanding, his Melies is totally captivating, one of the finest supporting roles of the year. Kinglsey, without layers of makeup or undue accent, completely disappears into this role, and brings Melies to thundering, imaginative life. With Kingsley in the role, "Hugo" really triumphs.

If I have any quibbles, it has to do with some plot holes, and some thoughts about the use of 3D thematically in this movie. As far as the screenplay, I think it is beautifully done, although I wish the matter of Hugo's missing notebook had not been forgotten, and I wonder about the film-historian's assumption that Melies was killed in the war. Otherwise the story is told in wonderful dialog and nicely-plotted set pieces.

As for the 3D, I think "Hugo" uses the technology really well most of the time, especially in the latter half. I found it distracting during some of the earlier, faster-paced sequences. And there is so much beautiful detail and depth in the sets, and intricate costume design, that I wished early on that I could have had more time to linger on these things without the added "filter"of 3D. Also, at some early points, Scorsese tries to create depth of field by blurring the foregrounds and backgrounds. While I admire his attention to this detail, unfortunately the foregrounds are sometimes indistinguishable from the backgrounds; the eye doesn't have much time to focus from shot to shot.

But in the less rapid sequences, the effect soars. Especially in the slow zoom-ins and closeups, in particular of Kingsley and Cohen, the effect is to bring the characters into an unusual intimacy with the viewer, right in one's lap. And during the clock-chase sequence, an overhead shot from the top of the clock tower looking down is stunning.

I was struck by an irony: late in the film, Melies' own work, like "A Trip To The Moon", was presented in a 3D format. I thought this was a mistake, and, after just seeing a trailer for "Titanic" being re-released in 3D, it had the unintentional feel of an advertisement for 3D. I would rather have let the old film remain in its original format, as a way to honor that history, and preserve what once was, so we can study it anew.

I think "Hugo" will not herald a new renaissance in 3D filmmaking, but will prove to be the exception to the 3D rule. I fear most filmmakers lack the skill and consummate knowledge of technique and history that allowed Scorsese to create something unique and beautiful.

In the balance, however, I must recommend "Hugo" to viewers who still value the singular pleasures of moviegoing on a large screen. I hope Martin Scorsese continues to explore material that plays into his love of the movies. This is one of the finest films of the year, and one that will still hold up on 2-dimensional blu-ray for those of us traditional film fanatics who have not yet taken the 3D home-theater bait.

A Meaningless Film-Critic Embargo From Producer of "Dragon Tattoo"

2011-12-12T18:45:00.008-06:00

An interesting, but finally meaningless, debate about movie critics and "promises", caught my attention recently...

A firestorm of negative opinion has erupted over David Denby's review of "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo", which is scheduled for publication in the New Yorker, in the December 6 issue.

It is the date of publication, and not the review itself, that has received the roar of disapproval from "fans" of the as-yet unreleased film, produced by Scott Rudin and directed by David Fincher.

It began when the New York Film Critics Circle decided to announce its annual Film Awards (a year-end precursor to the Oscars) earlier than normally scheduled. For whatever reason, the New York Critics wanted to be the first to have made their official awards announcement (at the end of November rather than the traditional mid-December time frame), when a few high-profile pictures still had not been released in New York.

One of the unreleased films, "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo", which has high award expectations (at least from the Fincher-ites), was in danger of being unscreened, and therefore, left out of the NYFC voting. So the studio allowed the Critic's Circle a special screening, and then demanded that each critic make a promise not to publish any review before December 13.

(Another highly-touted major studio release, Stephen Daldry's "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close", was not ready for screening and was left out of the NYFC voting this year.)

Denby published early, citing the glut of year-end movies to review, and limited time to do so, as the reason for the "early" review.

Producer Scott Rudin, infuriated, banned Denby from future advanced screenings for violating the "review embargo". Fincher, who reasonably expressed his distaste for screenings in advance of the movie's release date, nevertheless blasted Denby for violating his "promise" and supported Rudin's decision to ostracize Denby. (Check this interesting post in Anomalous Material)

That's when the Web heated up with opinion over film critics' honoring their agreements, and a peculiar defense of the film, that seemed designed to protect some fragile Awards fantasy that Fincher, and this movie, would triumph at the Oscars. The argument was that by publishing an early, potentially negative review, the fan-fiction that "Tattoo" might be an eleventh-hour Oscar game-changer might not hold up.

And if future reviews prove as lukewarm as Denby's, then there may be little hope for awards-love for the movie. The venom directed at Denby, and the support of Fincher and the as yet unseen "Girl With The Dragon Tattoo", went beyond fandom and bordered on the irrational.

(In the final count, in spite of the special screening, NYFC left "Tattoo" empty-handed, and the film has not impressed other critics' groups as of this writing. The "Social Network"s critical juggernaut will not repeat itself this year.)

If Denby had played the good sport in this instance, then the movie would have had to rise and fall on its own merits, rather than receive the benefit of promotion by manufactured "scandal".

I hold to the notion, expressed previously on this blog, that movie-making is diminished when films are discussed nearly to death before their release. That includes incessant analysis of everything from the studio-leaked photos, to the trailers, to the poster art. That, as much as early reviews, can ruin the experience for a potential viewer, except for those who will attend that all-important opening weekend anyway.

I agree with Fincher in my preference that reviews should be written after a film has been released to theaters.

But I disagree with the studios setting up advance screenings---for no other purpose than to make a film award-eligible--and then demand that critics not write about it. It's an almost laughable double-standard in which critics are "invited" to screenings, and are free to bestow their honors upon a film, which they are then sworn not to review until later.

Film critics write film criticism. If studios didn't do early screenings, then they would prevent "premature" reviews. (The old activist in me reacts against any demand not to write about something, especially something as benign as a movie review....thoughts of freedom of the press linger..) If the film is that good, and promoted appropriately, the work will stand on its own, awards or no.

Also, if "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" happened to win major awards from the New York Film Critics Circle, the continued enforcement of the "embargo" would have been awkward, if not downright embarrassing.

I also find a desperate inconsistency in the opinions of some writers on this subject. On the one hand, they put forth the idea that critics don't matter, that the only relevant views on any film come from the average moviegoing audience. On the other hand, the outrage over Denby's early review betrays a fear that critics do in fact matter a great deal, that the opinion of a professional movie critic is potentially damaging, and that it has the ability to plant doubt in the minds of those who would otherwise praise the film to Awards glory.

There are no heroes here. The New York Film Critics need to chill a little, and wait until they have given each eligible film a fair viewing. The studios should spread out their releases more evenly thoughout the year, and not effectively censor what and when a writer writes. Banning Denby from advance screenings serves no purpose.

It's all about awards, I guess, and that's not good for the full appreciation of the art of film.

A Posthumous Honor for a Chicago Classic

2011-12-09T23:54:00.004-06:00

Almost a year to the day after his passing ("The Cubs...Lose Their Biggest Fan", December 4 2010), former Chicago Cubs Third Baseman Ron Santo was finally elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame.

It's a bittersweet victory. Santo had been passed over for the honor since he was originally placed on the ballot in 1980. For over thirty years, Ronnie swallowed his disappointment and put a gracious good face on the annual postponement of his dream.

Consider Santo's record as a Cub in the 1960's and early '70's: his high profile and loyalty to his team and to his city; his popularity with fans and players alike; his proficiency as a third baseman (a position rarely honored by the Hall of Fame) with 90 RBI's in eight consecutive seasons (a record); a 9-time National League All-Star player; and his ebullience and regular-guy good humor in the broadcast booth. The fact that he was never honored with induction into the Hall until now seems like an almost deliberate, and cruel, snub. I don't understand it, and neither do most Cub fans nor Chicago Sports Writers.

Santo's Cub Uniform #10 was retired in 2003, and his flag flies over his beloved Wrigley Field along with those of Ernie Banks and Billy Williams, Santo's teammates and the only other Cubs to have their numbers retired. After an emotional ceremony before a packed stadium, Santo declared: “I know getting inducted into the Hall of Fame had to be something, but that flag is going to be hanging there after everybody is gone.”

Having the recognition of his team, his fans, and his city, meant more to Santo than any other honor. Still, he deserved better from the Hall of Fame voters.

"We dared to dream this because it was so important to Ron and such a long time in coming,” his widow, Vicki, said, upon hearing the news of Santo's posthumous induction into the Hall of Fame. “But we’re all thrilled. When I got the call from the Hall and then Billy [Williams] got on the phone and said, ‘Vick, we finally got it done,’ it made me cry.” Vicky will make the induction speech in Cooperstown on July 22.

Somewhere, I hope Ronnie heard the news, and reacted with his characteristic unbridled joy:

A Puppy And An Ice Cube..What The World Needs Now--Wednesday Journal #1

2011-12-07T22:18:00.002-06:00

When I saw this video I knew I had to post it! First, to save it for posterity; and second, to share it with anyone who visits here. (Thank you, Kirk and Mark.)

Tonight, a few brief posts. Journal #2 below is a small tribute to the late Laura Nyro, a new inductee into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. Journal #3 is a gut reaction to today's sentencing of former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich on multiple corruption charges.

Coming up this week: another long-overdue, posthumous recognition of a Chicago Sports legend; and my thoughts on a movie-review embargo that has the blogosphere abuzz.

But first: enjoy this video of a Welsh Corgi puppy and his encounter with a single ice cube!

The Late Laura Nyro Inducted Into Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame--Wednesday Journal #2

2011-12-07T22:00:00.007-06:00

Finally! Laura Nyro (for the uninitiated, pronounced Ne-ro) was announced as an inductee into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame's Class of 2012. The induction ceremony will take place in Cleveland on April 14th.

Nero's heyday was the 1960's. She scored modest success as a singer, with a voice that was reminiscent of Carole King with a more reckless abandon, and she had two hit albums of collected songs.

But it was as a songwriter that she left an immortal mark on American popular music.

If George Gershwin were writing Top-40 pop hits, they might have sounded like the tunes of Laura Nyro. She blended rhythm-'n-blues and soul with jazz and pop, for a distinctive sound that is timeless even as it calls to mind the late '60's.

Artists like The 5th Dimension, Blood Sweat and Tears, and Barbra Streisand scored huge hits covering Nyro's songs. I hope I can encourage others to become familiar with Nyro's music. Her songwriting resume is unbelievable; all of them can be legitimately considered modern classics:

(click on the links to hear the songs)
Three Dog Night's version of "Eli's Comin'"; "Time and Love" and "Stony End" (Recorded by Streisand); "And When I Die" (Blood Sweat and Tears' biggest hit); and especially the covers by the Fifth Dimension: "Stoned Soul Picnic", "Save the Country", "Sweet Blindness", and my all-time Nyro favorite, "Wedding Bell Blues" ('B-I-I-I-I-I-L! I love you so, I always will ...')

Sadly, Laura Nyro will not be at the ceremony next April. In 1997, at the age of 49, Nyro died of ovarian cancer--the year in which another of my contemporary music heroes was inducted into the R&R Hall Of Fame: Joni Mitchell.

Nyro's induction is an honor that is way overdue.

Did Rod Blagojevich Receive Justice? Wednesday Journal #3

2011-12-07T20:39:00.009-06:00

Former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich was sentenced today to 14 years in prison for his recent conviction on multiple federal corruption charges.

Among his offenses were conspiracy to solicit bribes for State contracts, mail and wire fraud, and most notoriously, his scheme to sell the newly-elected President's vacated Ilinois Senate Seat.

Just as shameful, after his convictions, Blagojevich seemed to take a cavalier attitude toward his convictions, proclaiming his innocence, and, seeming unaware of the gravity of his situation, appearing on late-night talk shows, humorous television advertisements, and "Celebrity Apprentice".

There is little to say in his favor. Sadly, he is in large company, having the dubious distinction of being the 4th Illinois Governor to be convicted since 1973.I believe Rod Blagojevich should serve justice for his convictions and for continuing a shameful tradition of corruption in Illinois politics.

But 14 years?

Who's afraid of Rod Blagojevich?

I'm glad to finally be rid of Blagojevich (see "Good Riddance," June 28, 2011), but frankly his walking the streets does not make me fear for my personal safety.

Prison is a punitive measure to be sure, and the Judge in the sentencing sought to make an example of the former Governor, as a deterrent to future corruption by state officials.

But does anyone believe that is really going to work? I would rather see those who destroyed the financial futures of millions of Americans take their rightful place in Federal Prisons. The same goes for legislators who pass irresponsible laws, resulting in the deaths of everyone from soldiers and poor senior citizens, to desperate young mothers and innocent victims of petroleum disasters...to name a few.

Illinois' last Governor, George Ryan, was convicted in a Driver's License scandal that resulted in the deaths of a family of six. This occurred before his tenure as Governor, while he was still serving as the Illinois Secretary of State.

Ryan got six years.

14 years for Blagojevich? I think a more thoughtful judge could have come up with a more creative form of justice, one that would combine a shorter prison sentence with a more useful (and humbling) way to allow Blagojevich to pay his debt to the state.

Now, we are merely paying his room and board for the next 14 years.

Windy City Performing Arts Winter Concert, A Rich and Wonderful Program

2011-12-05T23:55:00.018-06:00

In three shows filled with heart, talent, and irrepressible mischief, the Windy City Gay Men's Chorus and Aria performed this weekend at Chicago's Senn Campus, and gave their richest, funniest, most emotional holiday show yet. There was an eclectic mix of musical styles, several show-stopping solos, some alarmingly good showcases of individual talent, a "hot" brass-and-percussion ensemble, and a visit from a besotted special guest, whose martini-fueled, train-wreck of a number redefined raucous hilarity, and may have been the last word in drag (until, perhaps, March).

This year's program, titled "Sassy! Brassy! and Classy!", left audiences as fully satisfied as at a banquet, offering familiar dishes and exotic delicacies, spiced with effervescent staging, and topped off with sweet harmonies and strong vocal mixtures. Director Stephen Edwards fashioned a wonderful show which, in spite of the challenges and rigors of rehearsals, the choirs delivered nicely.

Another thing...I felt entirely safe in the comfortable surroundings of Senn Auditorium. Mark was there all weekend, and the stage was filled with all of my friends who worked so hard to entertain us, with so much wonderful music beautifully performed. I knew the same warmth I used to know looking at the lit-up tree in my boyhood living room, with all the other lights off, and the promise of good things...

The combined chorus kicked off with "Spirit of the Season" from "Polar Express", a lively number that raised the house energy level, and set a tone of expectation for both the traditional and the contemporary.

The men moved right into "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year", a perennial classic (that we break into occasionally when the pressures of the season become insane!) The men's first set concluded with a beautifully harmonized, hushed version of "White Christmas", a song filled with nostalgia and hope, and still one one of the finest Oscar-winning songs ever.

Aria took back the stage for a jazzy rendition of "The Holiday Season", at one point vocalizing without words in an amusing "ta-tee-ta" chorus. Kay Thompson, a well-known actress, arranger, and godmother to Liza Minnelli, wrote this tune in 1963.

"Silent Night" always casts a breathless hush on an audience. This version is one of the most exquisite I have yet heard. Stephanie Dykes started with a strong baritone solo in German, with the combined chorus fading in for a melancholy rendition of the song. Stephanie came back for a brief solo interlude, taking the song into a different key, before the chorus built in volume to a thrilling climax, at which it was impossible not to be moved.

The women lightened things up again with "The Holly and the Ivy" done in a calypso kind of beat, with great piano accompaniment and a fine solo by Valerie Silk Kremenak.

Then things got out of hand--in a great way.

Stephen breathlessly announced the appearance of a special guest! While the chorus donned hats and grabbed their fur-lined music books in order to provide background vocals for this special soloist, we learned that the singer was none other than Mrs. Santa.

In white silk elbow-length gloves, silver wig with a ridiculously small hat perched on top of his head, and a silky and flattering dress, Bill Howes, as Mrs. Santa, was wheeled out on a chaise lounge by two shirtless minions (Bill Marsland and Jason Spoor) sporting leather harnesses and hats, sucking on tootsie pops, and bringing continuous martinis to the hapless diva.

The chorus followed their music gamely, while Mrs. Santa launched into an off-key riff that got appreciative howls of laughter from in-the-know audience members. "O Holy Night" segued hysterically into everything from "Deck the Halls" to a wild-west version of "Sleigh Ride"; from a confused mix of "Frosty" and "Rudolph" to "Over the Rainbow"; from "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer"; to Mozart's "Magic Flute", returning finally to "O Holy Night", before she was wheeled offstage.

Howes tottered around the stage, goosing Director Edwards (who grabbed a drink himself), able to go from sublime to profane in one alcohol-riddled breath. A singer has to be really talented to fashion a number so hilariously off-key and well-timed, and Howes really put on a show. Even Michael Roberts, the Sign Language Interpreter, seemed to be at a loss, remaining quietly hilarious, frantic to get it all spelled out.

* * * *

It was hard to top this, but the follow-up was terrific. The brass section, with wordless vocalizations from Aria, performed a song I remember hearing a lot as a kid, but had almost forgotten, called "Bugler's Holiday". (I was so happy to reconnect to this song--I felt like the guy in "Amelie" who has his long-lost treasure box returned to him; I had been trying so long to recall the name of this tune. ) I don't think it's strictly a holiday number, but it is appropriately bubbly with a great brass sound. (Listen to a version of it here).

The instrumentalists followed with an interlude of their own, "Sleigh Ride", which is more well-known. Both this and "Bugler's Holiday" (above) were written by American composer Leroy Anderson, described by Oscar-winning composer John Williams as "one of the great American masters of light orchestral music."

Aria's next, a Hanukkah Song called "We Are Lights" featured lovely solos from Anna Rose Li-Epstein and Katya Lysander, and incorporated a candle-lighting during the number.

And, to finish the first half of the show, the chorus was led by soloist Libby Lane, who effectively belted "Judah and his Maccabees", a musical bible story of the origin of Hanukkah. This number requires a strong, vibrant alto, and Lane gave an awesome and animated interpretation of the song. (Here's a version from the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus, lead by Karen Hart, who wrote the song.)

Act Two was more emotional, more spiritual and even more amazing. The Men's Chorus offered a quiet and powerful version of "Ave Dulcissima Maria", performed acapella with only a single bell as a regular punctuation, like a Gregorian chant. This was rumored to be a troublesome, complex number for the singers, but from where I sat, it sounded perfect. The piece was written in 2004 by Morten Lauridsen originally for the Harvard Glee Club. (Listen to Polyphony's version here). Michael Vince, Ryan Johnson, and Anton Naess lent their beautiful voices in solos.

Aria came back for a suite of spiritual numbers, beginning with "December" in which the group's delicate voices perfectly captured the awesome solitude of a late winter afternoon, when the sky is all blue and pink from the setting sun. The chilling soprano solos of Kim Duncan, Rafael Ramos, Beth Bellinger and Meghan Bennett gave the song a haunting quality. "Hodie Christus Natus Est", "Gloria", and "Alleluia (from Songs of Faith)" recalled for me the brassy religious influence of the film scores of Miklos Rosza or the medieval beauty of "The Lion in Winter". Paul Basler, who wrote "Hodie..." and "Songs of Faith", was pleased with the arrangement, as seen on YouTube!

Finally, "Pictures of a Season", a suite so wonderfully done that it almost requires its own post. I'll try to do it justice in summary.

"Pictures of a Season" was a set of familiar holiday compositions, arranged in such a way as to provide a depth of meaning, an emotional journey.

Starting with a plaintive phrase from "Do You Hear What I Hear?", which served as a refrain for the whole number, the brass and harp were effectively woven in between. There was a rousing version of "Born in Bethlehem", done as a 4-part round with hand-claps that got the crowd moving. Bobby Owens came in for a brief solo refrain of "Do You Hear", followed by another exciting number, "I Am The Lord of the Dance", fronted by lighthearted solos from Ray Lesniewski and Dan Craig.

Before the climax of the choral piece, there was perhaps the most amazing solo work of all. Madelyn Tan-Cohen, the always-reliable piano accompanist, was given the spotlight, and transfixed the crowd as she moved effortlessly across the entire keyboard and back again for a thunderous, delicate, amazing musical interlude. Influences of Wyndham Hill and Debussy, hints of "Carol of the Bells", "Away in a Manger", a bluesy version of "We Three Kings", and segments of "Noel" "Gloria in Excelsis", combined for a seamless rhapsody. Madelyn, who quietly provides such great support for the vocals, here proved a tremendous talent in her own right. She received a well-deserved cheer from the crowd.

Finally, the chorus brought it all home, as the suite built in intensity to the full "Do You Hear", with full orchestral accompaniment and the entire choir giving it everything they had, to thunderous applause.

I hope this recounting of this very special concert will serve as a record of an event for some, a tribute to others, and an introduction to this special group to everyone else.

In the coming weeks, I'll return to the personal stories of many of the members, the preparation for the March Broadway fund-raiser, and the road to the Gala Festival in Denver in July! Stay tuned...

A Political Interlude: Sunday Journal

2011-12-04T13:09:00.005-06:00

The Republican party must be breathing a collective sigh of relief.

Herman Cain, former Domino's Pizza CEO and one-time front-runner in the 2012 Presidential bid, has closed his campaign and has withdrawn from the race. Allegations of sexual harassment, and a possible 13-year extramarital affair (scandals which always mean the death knell to"moral" Americans, stirred by the media into a self-righteous frenzy) sealed Cain's Presidential downfall. So now, many conservative Republicans, "true" Americans (who hate Mr. Obama), no longer need worry about throwing support behind one of their own candidates who is of the "wrong" race.

And now, the attack dogs of Fox News seem to be nipping at the heels of presumptive front-runner Mitt Romney. Romney's interview with Brett Baier last Tuesday was more than awkward, it was an uncommonly aggressive grilling by Fox News of one of their own. Or IS Romney one of their own? I don't like Romney as a politician or a Presidential candidate; I think he and his campaign are capable of the basest dishonesty in order to besmirch an opponents reputation. (See my post, "On Romney's Deception", Nov. 30).

But much as I dislike Romney, I hate even more the seemingly heinous and transparent reason why other Republican candidates and the Conservative Fox news are going after him: It seems to me they are trying to force a Romney meltdown, so that those same conservative Republicans no longer need to worry about throwing their support behind one of their own candidates who is the "wrong" kind of "Christian".

It looks like it's working, at least this week. New Gingrich, an old-boy politician, has now moved into the front-runner position in the Republican Presidential race.

Thus the collective sigh of relief, if my hunches are correct.

The Obama camp is thrilled at the Republican infighting, because they are now going after Romney for the same reasons that the Obama campaign itself would attack Romney, mainly, flip-flopping on major issues (see this article in Politico, Team Obama Cheers On Newt, Dec. 3).

Well, when it's all over, maybe Cain, Romney, and maybe even Gingrich, can supplement their book deal incomes with jobs as political "analysts" (emphasis on the first two syllables) on Fox News.

It's Concert Time, Coming Soon... And Quiet Time To Myself, Tonight

2011-12-02T23:25:00.002-06:00

Tonight is the final rehearsal for the 2011 Holiday Concert performed by the Windy City Gay Chorus and Aria!

With 2 shows on Saturday, December 3 and one matinee on Sunday, December 4, the auditorium of Senn High School in Chicago's Roger's Park will be ringing with traditional beauty and camp humor.

Since September, I have heard Mark repeatedly rehearse the second tenors' portion of the concert. Now, I will finally have a chance to hear it all put together. Also, the concert promises some visual treats, and a special appearance by "Mrs. Santa Claus".

Aside from the fact that I am somewhat biased by Mark's performing in the group, I have enjoyed every single program I have attended since June of 2010. Once again, I look forward to being moved, surprised, and amused. I'll have a review by Monday.

As usual on the night of the final rehearsal, I am on my own, relaxing in a room in Evanston, safe and warm on a chilly night. These year-end concerts allow me a chance to reflect back on the year that was. 2011 was often a strange and difficult year, and at other times it has been a year of discovery and enjoyment. A sad and deteriorating family situation has occupied my thoughts. Career sometimes becomes an almost robotic series of tasks to complete.

To counter these things, meaning was sought in other, more fulfilling activities. There has been the writing, and our trips to Chicago for theater, film, and immersion in a neighborhood that welcomes us. Best of all was Italy, with Mark, for me a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I'll do a more thorough re-evaluation of the year, and how we survived it, in a retrospective later this month.

Did I mention the writing? As an activity, writing has become even more essential than ever. More than anything, the 2-plus-year activity of creating this blog has let me define myself first and foremost as a writer.

I hope folks are still visiting, and reading here. Either way, it's still a record of a daily life, a personal exercise, a worthy journal. I see the writing becoming stronger. I still get excited when I find a comment.

The blog continues to allow me to focus on other things, things that make life more interesting.

Like the Windy City Performing Arts! "Let the music play....."

The Dogs of Oscar's Best Picture: Will 2011 Be Dog-Friendly?

2011-12-01T21:50:00.058-06:00

In its 83-year history, no Oscar-winning Best Picture has ever had a dog as the focus of its story, nor featured a dog as a main character.

From Rin Tin Tin to Lassie, from Asta to Old Yeller, from Hachiko to Benjy, there have been all sorts of well-loved movies with dogs front and center. Often, it is the dog in a film that is responsible for providing the rooting interest, and emotional attachment, a viewer has with a film.

But, sadly, Oscar's Best Pictures have been all but declared "No Dogs Allowed".

That could change this coming February, to add another record-breaking statistic to an already exciting and unpredictable Oscar year.

I wracked my brain to remember if any previous Best Pictures featured a dog in an important role. I even looked at lists and Academy Award reference materials. (Ernest Borgnine and Betsy Blair, as leading "dogs" in 1955's "Marty", don't count.)

Yes, there were some high-profile dogs in movies nominated for the big award. Toto from "The Wizard of Oz" (1939) is probably the best-known; the goofy animated dog(s) in "Up" (2009)figured most recently; and the comical old bulldog in 1944's "Since You Went Away" is probably the most sadly forgotten. The title of one great film, "Sounder" (1972), was even the name of the family dog.

But which Best Picture winners, if any, had an important canine character?

The most high-profile Oscar-dog is probably the bull terrier "Bullseye" from "Oliver" (1968), the menacing sidekick to the evil Bill Sykes (Oliver Reed). He was definitely a second-string supporting player, however. Bullseye has one important scene, in which he betrays his master after witnessing Sykes murder the leading lady. The four-legged informer did well by his very small role, and became a hero of sorts, but was promptly forgotten, and was far from providing a heartwarming center to the film.

In "Midnight Cowboy" (1969), a sly prostitute Cass (Sylvia Miles) uses her poodle, Baby, to help lure potential customers. The dog has slightly less screen time than Miles (who nevertheless earned an Oscar nomination herself); but is responsible for one of the movie's most rueful laughs, as Baby is an unwitting conspirator in Cass' affair with hustler Joe Buck (Jon Voight).

1970's epic war biography "Patton" gave us another bull terrier, this time an historically accurate one. General Patton's canine companion was named "William", after William the Conqueror. That is, until he is humorously frightened by a Parisian cat, after which the General dubs him "Willie" (which, by the way, was the actual dog's real moniker.) Far from being a key player in the development of plot or the mover of history, Willie is a prop; but at least he is there to take a final walk into the sunset with the General before the final credits roll.

The sloppiest (and cutest) Oscar-film dog was probably "Butkus", Rocky Balboa's Mastiff and jogging buddy in the original "Rocky" (1976). A gift from Rocky's pet-shop-clerk-and-soon-to-be-girlfriend (Yo) Adrian, Butkus bounds onto the scene with eager energy and lots of heart. He accompanies Rocky on a jog or two before, somehow, dropping quietly out of sight (except for maybe a wayward closeup or two...memory doesn't serve.) But I do know that Butkus' talent was more or less wasted, when he could have been a contender.

Kevin Costner bonds with a more primal creature in "Dances With Wolves" (1990). Costner's character, Lt. Dunbar, is followed and watched, approached and avoided, by a wild wolf , who finally sheds his mistrust of the human enough to get close to the man. The wolf provides wary companionship, and a frolic in the prairie, for the wide-eyed white man in his midst. Hence, Costner's name, bestowed on him by the Sioux. When the evil white settlers shoot at the animal, it's heart-rending. Still, the wolf, who I believe was called Socks, provided a good subplot, but not a main story. Besides, he was not exactly what you might call a pet.

The most ghastly use of a dog in an Oscar-winning best picture was the appearance of the otherise sweet little poodle, Precious, in "Silence of the Lambs" (1991). Catherine Martin, trapped in a well by the insane Buffalo Bill, lures the hapless dog into the well with her, and threatens to kill the dog if Bill won't let her go. No more than a prop, Precious is a clever symbol of innocence subjected to evil. Fun for all ages!

A more recent use of a dog in an Oscar-winning Best Film was as a fleeting sidekick to Russell Crowe's Maximus in "Gladiator" (2000). I read somewhere that the dog, a mixed-breed Shepherd, was added to the opening battle scene, so that confused audience members knew who to root for. Naturally we assume that whoever is kind to a dog is on the good team. So Maximus "unleashes hell", as it were, the dog goes tearing off into battle, and is soon forgotten. (Meaningless trivia: this was Oliver Reed's second appearance in an Oscar-winning Best Picture, and his second with a dog. Was the late Mr. Reed a dog's best friend?)

In last year's "The King's Speech" (2010) two or three corgi's appeared, mainly as set decoration, and an historically accurate detail. The British Royal tradition of keeping corgi's as pets began with King Edward. The dogs barely register, but they have personality to spare, and make their scenes memorable, even if they don't do more than serve as characters in the king's bedtime story to his daughters.

And now, in 2011, there are several movies in which dogs provide warmth, support, and laughs in central roles or important secondary ones. One of them may even be responsible for putting a movie in the Oscar winners-circle. First there is Skeletor, the melancholy and confused Greyhound that gives Joseph Gordon-Levitt some much-needed unconditional cuddling in "50/50".

Then there is Cosmo, a heart-melting little Jack Russell Terrier in "Beginners", who communcates telepathically with Ewan MacGregor, and in wry subtitles for the rest of us:

And finally there's Uggie, another Jack Russell Terrier who mugs and mimes his way into the hearts of viewers in "The Artist". I have not yet seen "The Artist", but I already love this little performer, who actually won an award at Cannes called the Palme Dog! There's even a tongue-in-cheek on-line campaign out there to get Uggy some Award love (Consider Uggie). While an Oscar nomination for the dog is pretty unlikely, I do think "The Artist" is wowing enough viewers to have a good shot at Best Picture gold...and that would make it a first among Oscar movies, a best picture with a Lead Dog, and a victory for aspiring dog-performers everywhere.

Let me know who your favorite movie dogs have been...and if I have forgotten any major roles for dogs in the history of Oscar-winning Best Pictures.

Mitt Romney's Deception... I Have To Speak Out

2011-11-30T21:14:00.005-06:00

Republican Presidential Hopeful Mitt Romney recently allowed a shockingly dishonest attack ad on TV. The story was hot for a day or two, and then the media let it fade.

This is the kind of story that should be played to death, until those responsible are forced to recapitulate, or apologize. Even more shocking, there are scores of voters who actually fell for the ruse...or are willing to accept any lie that would hurt the reputation of Barack Obama.

In the ad, which was basically an attack ad on President Obama, Romney and his campaigners sought to cast doubt on Mr. Obama's commitment to help solve the country's economic problems. They ran the film clip while in the background the President can be heard saying:

"If we keep talking about the economy, were going to lose."

Here's what Mr. Obama actually said, in context:

"...my opponent's (John McCain's)campaign announced earlier this month that they want to "turn the page" on the discussion about our economy so they can spend the final weeks of this election attacking me instead. Senator McCain's campaign actually said, and I quote, "if we keep talking about the economy, we're going to lose..."
Read more at the American Presidency Project: Barack Obama: Remarks in Londonderry, New Hampshire http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/index.php?pid=84555#ixzz1fFJw6Bzb

When questioned about this, a Romney spokesman defended it by saying that "he did say the words... that was his voice." Romney himself responded thus:

"There was no hidden effort on the part of our campaign...it was instead to point out that what's sauce for the goose is now sauce for the gander."

No other explanation was offered, as though a line of honesty had not been crossed.

Of course politicians are manipulative, dishonest, and are willing and able to say anything, even contradict themselves, to sway the opinions of the electorate. But how cynical must a candidate be? How low must a candidate condescend? What it the lowest common denominator to which a candidate has to appeal? And why aren't more people, especially media watchdogs, still crying foul?

More people like Arianna Huffington, that is, who wrote a brilliant editorial in the November 29 2011 HuffPost ("Mitt Romney Brazenly Lies and the Media Let Him Slide")

My voice is barely audible...but I had to speak out.

If Mitt Romney is capable of this kind of unapologetic, outright lying to win the office, to what extent will he lie through his time in office? It wasn't even a subtle act of re-interpreting a candidate against himself, but a lazy lie that is so easily exposed that voters ought to be insulted.

In the video below, the statement in question appears beginning at 7:10.

Tuesday Short-Take #1 : Woody Allen and Me

2011-11-29T21:23:00.003-06:00

Last week, PBS' "American Masters" broadcast a new 2-part documentary about the life and work of Woody Allen.

In my post just before the program aired (PBS Reviews the Career of Woody Allen, Nov. 20), I promised to offer my thoughts on the show, plus a few words about why Allen has been a comic and cinematic hero to me.

Allen's career spans over 50 years, and has so many facets that it would be impossible to compress it all in a 3-hour program. Still, the show did an amazing job taking the viewer from Allen's early days as a standup,to his first attempts at filmmaking, through his tabloid years (and various love-interests), to his maturation as a writer-director. Running through it all is Allen's remarkable feat; since 1970, he has written and directed on the average of one film every year.

Allen tells much of the story in his own voice, appearing on-camera much of the time in exclusive interviews for the program. They are active interviews: he shows us the old manual typewriter on which he still writes his screenplays; shares with us a drawer-full of slips of paper with ideas that he is constantly generating; and responds with unusual warmth and candor to his acolytes and critics alike. He does not come off as a pseudo-intellectual, nor a sleaze. Best of all are the many film clips that are used to illustrate and enhance his personal story, clips from scores of his well-loved classic movies.

For me, personally, Allen was a creative inspiration. I loved to write satire as a young student, and yearned to make readers laugh as hard as Allen had made me laugh. His book, "Without Feathers", made my sides literally ache. Too bad they didn't mention his book in the documentary; nor did they introduce one of Allen's earlier film projects, "What's Up, Tiger Lily", an actual Japanese spy film that Allen re-edited and dubbed with devastatingly naughty dialogue, that spoke to the perennial adolescent in me.

But I reveled in utter joy as I re-lived the pleasures of his movies, and recalled the theaters filled with laughter, and the nearly empty matinees where my romantic pain as a young man was alleviated, in the company of the likes of Diane Keaton, Louise Lasser, Diane Wiest, Mia Farrow, Mariel Hemingway, Tony Bill, John Cusack, Jeff Daniels, Michael Caine, and Allen himself. Allen spoke directly to me, like he was a wise college senior to my awkward freshman. His intelligence was something I could aspire to, and his awkwardness something I could identify with, and not feel ashamed. Allen said it was okay to laugh, and so, I was able to laugh at myself.

"Sleeper", "Bananas", "Love and Death", "Interiors", "Manhattan", "Hannah and Her Sisters", "The Purple Rose of Cairo", "Radio Days", "Bullets Over Broadway", and my iconic favorite, the game-changer "Annie Hall", shaped my formative movie-going years, and my attitudes as to what a film could accomplish. They let me escape, not into fantasy, but into a vaguely familiar world that I could learn to manage. The laughter was healing. A few of them may have saved my life on one or two occasions.

My relationship with Allen's work has mellowed over the years. I missed some of the later titles, but found the old enchantment in edgier works like "Match Point" and "Vicki Christina Barcelona".

With "Midnight in Paris", I feel like my painful adolescent and my wiser older self have come together to enjoy Allen's most magical piece of work since Alvy and Annie took that nostalgic trip to Coney Island.

Tuesday Short Take #2: The Movie Award Season Begins

2011-11-29T21:21:00.004-06:00

Speaking of "Midnight in Paris", I was excited to see Corey Stoll, playing an uber-masculine and sensitive Ernest Hemingway, nominated for an Independent Spirit Supporting Actor award! He is worth the attention.

The Independent Spirit nominees for 2011 feature many of my favorite films and performances of the year, including "Paris", "Beginners", "Take Shelter", "50/50", "The Descendants", and "Martha Marcy May Marlene".

Here's a complete list of Independent Spirit Nominees for 2011.

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It's ironic (and fun!), in a year that saw the preponderance of movie technology, special effects, CGI, 3-D, (and my laments about the empty bombast of it all), that the possible major-award-winner in 2011 might just be a black-and-white silent film, made in the same manner as the films of the 1920's!

"The Artist", the French valentine to movies and actors, has captured my imagination like no other film since "Tree of Life".

The New York Film Critics caused an artificial ruckus by being the earliest critic's group to reveal their awards for the year. The ruckus intensified when the group decided to delay the voting one day, to include a screening of "Girl With A Dragon Tattoo" (which, by the way, came away empty-handed), but not delayed enough to screen the not-yet-ready "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close".

I am so pleased that there are a lot of films this year that are worthy of attention. Sure, there will be some good films that will be crowded out by those with a higher profile or bigger promotional budget.

But the New York Film Critics Circle, I think, did themselves proud with this year's announcement of winners; "The Artist" for film and Director; Brad Pitt awarded for "Moneyball" AND "Tree of Life"; Meryl Streep for "Iron Lady", "Moneyball" for Screenplay, "Tree of Life" for Cinematography; and Jessica Chastain ("The Help", Take Shelter", "Tree of Life") and Albert Brooks ("Drive") in Supporting Acting Categories. (Click this Link for the full list of winners)

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And in the biggest surprise at all, the relatively new Gotham Independent Film Group last night awarded a tie for Best Picture to: the small, quirky, intimate "Beginners", and the ethereal, timeless, ambitious "Tree of Life".

(Click Here to read about the winners)

This could be an interesting Awards season!

Broadway in Chicago: "Memphis" Rocks the House

2011-11-28T22:05:00.001-06:00

2010's Tony Award-Winning Best Musical "Memphis" made a 2-week stop at Chicago's Cadillac Palace Theater, bringing enough energy and heart to warm the whole city.

This is a pulsing, joyous, "fantastical" entertainment featuring original music done in the spot-on style of 1950's rock-and-blues, covering the same period of time in the same tradition as "Hairspray" and "Jersey Boys", but tempered with a sad and ominous underside: the violent ignorance and racism of the era. The music is raucous and tuneful, coupled with rollicking "Bandstand"-style choreography, and rapid-fire dialogue. There are laughs galore here, and heartache, too.

It recreates a time of innocence in the music industry. It was a time when an uneducated but good-hearted guy could rise to stardom on the radio, when "everybody wants to be black on a Saturday night", and when young rockers led the way to a segregated society. ("Memphis" reminds us how far society may have progressed, and in the most indirect way, how corrupt and cynical the music industry has become today.)

But more than anything, "Memphis" is a lot of fun. After seeing it you might leave the theater yearning to produce a rock and roll TV show, sing in a band, or dance with all your might. You might also feel a bittersweet bond with a character who will work his way into your consciousness like a good friend does.

"Memphis" is about a happy-go-lucky young man named Huey Calhoun, who blasts his way into a job as a local radio DJ to play the "race music" he loves, which will soon become known as rock-n-roll. As he champions this "dangerous" but liberating new sound, he starts a local tidal wave that soon will catch on all over the nation. Fast-talking, loose-limbed and naively likeable, Huey frequents a black club in a part of town normally forbidden to whites, and is taken by the formidable musical talents of the headliner named Felicia. Completely smitten, he wins her over, and fulfills his promise to make her a star, just as his popularity begins to wane.

They become involved in a sweet yet forbidden romance. "Memphis" reveals the almost impossible challenges of a mixed-race relationship, and the compromises involved in becoming a success, especially to those who cling to their ideals.

The sweet, nostalgic embrace that is Act One eventually gives way to the inevitable history of that time and place. When acts of violence erupt suddenly, even in their stylized way, they are shocking. There is real pain on stage as a result. The feel-good innocence of the music is shadowed by ignorance,

In Act two, Huey's descent is telegraphed in broad strokes---a liquor flask hidden in his jacket, and a general waning of energy--just as he hits his peak as a "Richard Clark"-styled TV Dance-Show host. Here the production hits its peak too, using black-and-white TV cameras and a large screen to "broadcast" the action and the music that unfolds before us. Huey's last hurrah, a rollicking number called "Tear Down the House", makes us his allies in rejecting the segregationist ideas of a big-time TV producer who wants to eliminate most of the black dancers on the set. Toward the end, as Huey once more occupies a little radio studio on the less popular end of the radio dial, the stage is completely black except for his booth. Huey's world has grown too small, and he has diminished with it.

Fortunately, he is held up once more for applause, as Felicia, now a star and engaged to another, encourages him to attend her show and take the stage with her. And so, "Memphis" ends on a triumphant note.

"Memphis" is loosely based on the real-life Memphis DJ Dewey Phillips (click on the link for his biography), who in the 1950's became a smash with his frantic on-air delivery and fierce support of black music. Phillips soon began to abuse amphetamines and alcohol, and met an untimely end at age 42. An early version of "Memphis" had Huey die during the show; fortunately, the show maintained its optimistic tone.

The show is filled with a strong ensemble of dancers and singers. Even the secondary characters who perform songs create memorable, rounded characters. The staging and choreography are efficient and clever, and well above the bar set by typically excellent Broadway in Chicago productions.

Felicia Boswell has a terrific voice and is a marvelous actress too. She provides the dramatic chops "Memphis" needs to put across its serious message. She is completely convincing during every stage of her development as a character. Her rendition of "Someday" is beautiful and true. In an era when such things were still possible, this song, and Boswell's rendition, could have become a breakout single and a huge hit, a Broadway standard.

As Huey's mama, Julie Johnson has the widest character arc, from a sheltered and limited woman who is afraid to go against racist convention, to a flamboyant stage mother, brilliant and hilarious. Her "Change Don't Come Easy" number brought the house down.

Last, and best, is Bryan Fenkart as Huey. I will never forget his escalating rant in the radio studio, selling beer for a local grocery store. From that moment on I was in love with the character. He is both expansive, ready to explode in every scene, as well as a regular guy, just trying to do right by his mama and to love his sweetheart even though it is illegal for him to do so. (There are subtle shades for modern audiences of current marriages that are still illegal.) Fenkart has perfected a set of mannerisms and vocal deliveries, with a high-pitched carnival-barker's voice and down-home accent. I missed the original Broadway cast, but I cannot imagine a more perfect actor to embody the quirky and wonderful Huey Calhoun than Fenkart.

Hock-a doo!

(Photo by Paul Kolnik)

"The Descendants" is Intelligent, Poignant, Like A Good Novel

2011-11-27T20:40:00.008-06:00

"The Descendants" is a return to the kind of character-driven, domestic screen drama that Hollywood rarely favors these days, and usually only during the crowded winter months when studios jockey for Oscar attention. Directed by Alexander Payne, and adapted by Payne and Nat Faxon and Jim Rash from the novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings, the tone and feel of "The Descendants" has more in common with films like "The Kids are All Right", or "The Savages", than Payne's previous "Sideways" or "About Schmidt".

A viewer who appreciates a classically-made film will begin to relax into it; and suddenly there is something edgy or unusual, so that one is sometimes taken aback, or more often exhilarated, as the film stirs the emotions. "The Descendants" is one of the most poignant and original films of the year.

Watching "The Descendants" is similar to the experience of enjoying a good novel. The plot has several elements, and a number of subplots layered with observations of character, so that we are as interested in how these people will emotionally survive, as we are in how the threads of the story will play out.

The film's locations are the larger cities and the untouched coastal beaches of the Hawaiian islands.  It takes a clear-eyed, realistic view of the terrain, and deglamorizes it. The film is beautifully photographed, with colorful and textured interiors and pleasant vistas. The filmmakers avoid the usual digital cliches, the monochrome look and the "moody" shadows, preferring to keep the film crisply lit, so that we can study the faces of these unusual characters and their interesting surroundings.   The use of Hawaiian guitar and native vocals on the soundtrack, novel and somewhat humorous at first, soon becomes a natural part of the state of mind of the characters. We are quickly absorbed in a world that is familiar but thankfully very different from many current movies about modern families.

After his wife is sent into a coma after a boating accident, workaholic lawyer Matt King (George Clooney) must re-engage with his two daughters, Alexandra and Scottie. Alex, the oldest (Shailene Woodley), is in a private school to help deal with her wild behavior, but is still drinking. Scottie, the youngest, (Amara Miller), wants so much to understand the adult world, and tries to behave older than her years, but needs love and attention, and frequently acts out.   It is gradually revealed that King has neglected them for a long time; even he admits that he has no idea what to do for them.

King is also the trustee of a plot of pristine ocean coastline. As the great-great-great-grandson of a family of Hawaiian royalty, King is involved in a complicated land sale, which would bring his family (mostly of a group of amusingly greedy extended cousins) a lot of money, but which has divided the residents of the area, who do not wish to see the land developed.

Into this drops a bombshell: Alex tells King that his wife had been cheating on him with a local realtor, and suddenly his devotion to his career has a new and dire consequence. He seems to be the only one who did not know.

At this point, "The Descendants" launches into a road film of sorts, as King takes his daughters, and Alex's new boyfriend Sid (Nick Krause), to the hospital on a nearby island to tend to his wife, and to deal with his churning emotions.  Along the way, he bonds with daughter Alex as, together, they hunt down realtor Brian Speer, the object of his wife's affair, in order to ... well, he isn't quite sure what he will do.

All of these threads weave into a satisfying fabric of visuals and unpredictable plot developments, but mostly they exist as a moving character study. We learn to care for these people and are drawn in to their foibles, their alliances, and their changes.

"The Descendants" is a neatly-paced two hours, filled with incident, humor, and melancholy. While moving us through the development of these characters and resolving various relationships, it quietly develops a lot of ideas that enrich the film, enlarge it, and enhance the viewing experience. "The Descendants" becomes the story of the divide between generations, the bitterness of aging, the demand for parental respect, the support of siblings, the adjustment to the death of loved ones, the repair of the delicate bonds of family and friendships, and the responsibilities one has to the memory of one's ancestry (vs. monetary temptation).

This could be George Clooney's best film role. While at first appearing almost too nice to have been so accused of neglecting his family, he makes us believe that he has made some mistakes without ever being a terrible guy. Clooney perfectly modulates his responses, doing so much with his face and body language that we soon forget this is a well-known actor. Sporting wind-weathered gray hair and a few extra pounds, Clooney is the key to the film's gentle humor. His easygoing, bemused presence lets the viewer identify with him, and he grounds the picture as everything around him seems to be spinning out of control. In a big scene when he confronts his friends with the news, and later when he explodes in anger at his unresponsive wife in the hospital, Clooney is marvelously, perfectly right.

The aforementioned hospital scene is characteristic of the way "The Descendants" jars the viewer's expectations, allowing us to recover with a new point of view on everything we have just seen. King's anger is perfectly justifiable; at the same time, there's the horrible possibility that his wife can hear and understand everything without being able to respond, or defend herself. A moment later, eldest-daughter Alex lets go a string of invective, and King demands that she show her mother respect. It disturbs us because we are pulled into so many directions with our own responses, so that we need to look closer at the people up on the screen, and come to some deeper understanding of them. The film guides us, and it mostly works.

Shailene Woodley, as Alex, has the sharp beauty of a young Natalie Portman, and is surprisingly expressive. Her transformation from a foul-mouthed shrew of a daughter to King's ally may be a bit of a stretch, but the script, and her playing of it, are clever and engaging. It is a bit grating to hear her hurl insults at her father, while he seems to accept it helplessly, until a brief exchange where he confronts her (and a whole generation) for having no respect for authority.

Amara Miller will break your heart as the youngest daughter. She has her wild moments too, which mostly produce laughs. The scene in the hospital when she is told that her mother may not survive is done without words, only music on the soundtrack, and her expression of pain is all we need to know about what has just happened.

There is some terrific and unexpected supporting work here as well. As Sid, Nick Krause is appropriately annoying as the boyfriend, a parents' worst nightmare of a laid-back, know-nothing surfer dude, until a late-night dialogue between him and Clooney changes everything, and seals their relationship in a heartwarming bond. The punch Krause suffers at the hands of King's father-in-law, and the ensuing scene, garner one of the film's biggest laughs. As the father-in-law, Robert Forster, so wonderful in "Medium Cool", plays the angry old man with surprising shades of humor, and finally, warmth. As annoying as he is most of the time, we can't help but extend our hearts to him as he patiently communicates with his Alzheimers-afflicted wife, and must say goodbye to his daughter.

Beau Bridges makes a welcome return, a"Dude" with awesome eyebrows, as one of Clooney's cousins. It's a role meant to provide plot information, but Bridges gives this little role a lot of heart and presence.

Matthew Lillard, as King's wife's lover Brian Speer, has a brief but memorable role, nailing the mannerisms of a man who may make a lot of money from Clooney's land deal, and who cannot fathom the possible consequences of the misstep he had taken. As Lillard's unsuspecting wife, Judy Greer has a hospital scene that is so good that she is worthy of the Beatrice Straight award for her small but powerfully memorable performance.

I suspect that much of the film's success is due to the source material. I have not read Hemmings' novel, but I plan to. If my hunches are correct, I must applaud Payne for bringing out the best of the book, for establishing a consistent tone, and for brilliantly creating an atmosphere for his marvelous performers to work at their peak. "The Descendants" is a film that should be seen, and enjoyed, by anyone who cares about screen drama.

The Lions of the Chicago Art Institute

2011-11-25T13:45:00.003-06:00

For us, it will be a leisurely "Black Friday" in the city. This afternoon, a stroll through downtown to take advantage of sunny and pleasantly mild weather.

Along the way we'll visit the Art Institute of Chicago, to see the the famous two lions in their newly-donned holiday garb. Tonight: the Tony-winning Broadway Musical "Memphis"! Come back this weekend for reviews of this show, and of the new film "The Descendants".

Read on for more about the lions, and their artist, Edward L. Kemeys.

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Two of the undisputed landmarks of the City of Chicago are the sculptured bronze lions that stand guard on either side of the main entrance at the Art Institute. They are a favorite photographic subject of tourists, and delight children of all ages who visit the Museum for their first time, or their hundredth. The lions also serve as unofficial mascots for the Chicago professional sports teams when they make the championships, and can be seen wearing Chicago Bears or Blackhawks helmets in support.

Today, the Holiday season becomes official with the ceremonial "wreathing of the lions":

Less well-known to Chicagoans is the sculptor who carved these lions, Edward Kemeys (1843-1907). Kemeys was born in Savannah Georgia, and studied art in New York and Paris. As a boy he delighted in his visits to the prairies of Illinois, and marveled at the animals he observed at New York's Central Park Zoo. He became famous for his uniquely Western style of art, and for his sculptures of animals. The bronze lions, completed in 1893, are his most famous.

Kemeys unofficially named the lions: the south lion is "stands in an attitude of defiance," and the north lion is "on the prowl."

South Lion: "Stands in an Attitide of Defiance"

North Lion: "On the Prowl"

Among Kemeys' other works, his "Panther and Cubs" can be found outside of the Metropolitan Museum in New York seen below). There is also a collection of Work at The National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

Thanksgiving: Loving Friends, Memories of Family Gatherings...and Dogs

2011-11-24T22:57:00.001-06:00

Thanksgiving, in spite of the well-intentioned efforts of my sister and I, began in a melancholy way. We did our best to give our aging, ailing parents a nice meal and some company; both of them are in various stages of suffering and stubbornness. The meal turned out well. We cleaned up. It was draining and sad, to see what our family has come to. I left feeling subdued.

Later, in the company of Mark, Jillian, his sons Nick and Kirk, and Nick's girlfriend Stephanie, I retreated to a quaint nearby village to enjoy a stress-free meal, filled with anecdotes, and good fun and conversation. We convened afterward for a thoughtful and emotional new film, "The Descendants", which I will review this weekend.

With so many great films in release, and more to come, I am making up for lost time by viewing and reviewing on this blog as many as I can keep up with. Perhaps I am at a point in my re-invention where I am finally living the life of a film critic (albeit, as yet, an unpaid one!)

In the process I have neglected some other favorite topics of interest, and have not made too many "personal appearances" of late. I look forward to adding more variety to my posts as the year comes to a close.

And so I send this message of gratitude for the people who make this world a nicer place for me to be, especially those with whom I spent time this evening,.

And I want to remember some other creatures that keep me sane, and to whom I want to dedicate the holiday... And so, since Mark has fallen asleep on the couch across the room, I will send a short greeting to my canine friends....

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Congratulations to the winner of today's National Dog Show, Steele Your Heart, a four-year-old wire fox terrier.

The Basset Hound in this year's competition was enormously lovable, sweet, and entertaining...to me, all characteristics of the breed in general. I just had to share this video..check out the bounce, and the jowls, and that eager energy...

Breaking sports news video. MLB, NFL, NBA, NHL highlights and more.

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I miss sharing a meal with a humorous, frantically focused dog companion. If I had my way....

Hope my readers enjoyed their day.

Film Review: "The Ides of March"

2011-11-23T23:13:00.002-06:00

"The Ides of March" is a solid, effective political thriller. It accomplishes the rare feat of guiding viewers through the tedious labyrinth of American politics by entertaining us with a suspense-filled story.

The plot is almost too plausible to be far-fetched. It might not say anything new about corruption, betrayal, backstabbing and one-upmanship that form the sorry state of American presidential elections; but it does stand out as a fine example of the highest levels of skill and polish that American movies have to offer. "The Ides of March" is a sophisticated potboiler.

Ryan Gosling is the super-idealistic media manager for a Democratic Presidential candidate (George Clooney), who is in a tight race in the Ohio primary against an adversary that is known for playing dirty politics. Gosling's character is a sincere and skillful player, an impressive spinner, who impresses Clooney with his knowledge of public opinion and how to manipulate it. That is, until he gets involved with a pretty young intern (Evan Rachel Wood) with close family ties to the Democratic party. This eventually leads to his discovery that his hero Clooney is embroiled in a potentially career-ending scandal.

How he reacts to this discoraging development, and learns to survive by beating everyone at their viscious game, makes for a highly watchable if cynical piece of filmmaking.

The heart of the film is Gosling's character's slow movement into disillusionment. It can be seen as the loss of innocence of a whole electorate; but I think the film wisely eschewed such ambitions. It's a good look at a particular character.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is the campaign's chief of staff, a seasoned and cynical politico, who knows how to play dirty, but still holds to some notion of loyalty. Paul Giamatti (less annoying than usual but still hammy) is the manager of the rival campaign, a snake-in-the-grass among snakes, who makes a phone call that sets Gosling's desperate descent into motion. Marisa Tomei is an political insider, a reporter for the New York Times who cheerfully exploits everyone. Jeffrey Wright (playing beneath his talents) is a senator whose hotly-sought endorsement is the catalyst for all kinds of double-dealing on all sides.

Gosling can carry a film, and is showing an interesting range. This is the fourth film I have seen him in this year (I like to think that it's due to Gosling's good taste in selecting properties, ones that interest me!) along with "Blue Valentine", "Crazy Stupid Love", and "Drive". He reminds me of the high-school jock who shocks everyone by how good he is in the drama club. He commands the scenes he is in, and has a slow, deliberate manner of speech, like Brando with good diction. It hope he continues to appear in mature roles in serious fare.

Clooney's is more of a supporting role. It was clever to cast himself as a Democratic candidate (a foreshadowing?) whose ideas are on the money for today's voters, practical and easy to support, while his character is ensnared in a morally indefensible dilemma. Had this character been portrayed as Republican, the film would have received the knee-jerk scorn of Fox-News types and those who are threatened by National Public Radio as being too partisan.

All other cast members performed well in one of the year's best ensembles. Funny, but at times this movie seemed to be a stop-off for cast members on their way to do other films: Gosling and Tomei both in "Crazy Stupid Love", Hoffman in "Moneyball", Clooney in "The Descendants", Giamatti in "Win-Win", Wood in "True Blood." Perhaps this film was a labor of love, a film they all believed in. If so, I applaud the involvement of each of them.

I was absorbed by the well-written and fast-paced film (screenplay by Clooney, Grant Heslov, and Beau Willimon based on his play "Farragut North"). During the intense climactic confrontation between Gosling and Clooney, shot in shadowy closeup, it hit me how nicely directed this movie is even though at that moment I had forgotten who directed this film. It is, of course, Clooney's picture, a worthy follow-up to another compelling political drama, "Good Night and Good Luck". Clooney is blessed with a strong technical crew; the look of the film, the design and lighting, are top-notch; and the film is edited down to the exact frame, moves quickly and goes down smoothly.

The plot turns on an accidental discovery found on a character's i-phone text. Was this part of the original play? Maybe because this was the second consecutive film I saw where this plot device was used ("Like Crazy" was the other one), that I regarded this as a new, already tired cliche, one that should be banned from Hollywood films from now on.

I cannot imagine how this film plays to viewers from outside the U.S. The machinations, the blackmail that are all a part of "politics", must seem insane, and counter-intuitive to the governance of this country. If Clooney stays in Hollywood instead of Washington, he may do all of us a public service by continuing to create high-quality, well, played motion pictures like "The Ides of March" that raise audiences' awareness of the madness of our political system, and even move them to positive action.

"Like Crazy" an Unlikely Success

2011-11-22T23:02:00.014-06:00

It's a simple story, one that has been told countless times on movie screens. Two attractive, intelligent young people meet, have a sweet courtship, fall in love...and then find obstacles to their happiness.

"Like Crazy", the latest screen incarnation of modern love, finds fresh filmic techniques to tell the story, and puts a new spin on separation, temptation, and loss of innocence. It works. And in spite of early misgivings, I wound up liking it. A lot.

It's lighter than air, which is why its emotional punch comes as such a shock. The audience at the packed house where I saw this was attentive and absorbed, but audibly distressed at the fadeout. "Like Crazy" gets under a viewer's skin, and quietly makes you care about the future of these characters. After a first half-hour where the chemistry between the two leads grows tender and strong, and the romance and physical attraction is palpable, the suspense of their attempts to overcome their weaknesses, in the face of legal hardship, is agitating, and sad.

Anna (Felicity Jones) an aspiring writer from England, is in Los Angeles on a student visa when she meets Jacob (Anton Yelchin), a student at the same college, who is also a furniture designer. They meet and begin a relationship that is as natural as a movie coupling can be. It's cute, it's physical, and it's filled with small gestures of caring and playfulness. It is an astute recreation of first love. Director Drake Doremus, and his Co-Writer Ben York Jones, used memories of long-distance relationships of their own, to create the premise for the film.

Long-distance. That's what occurs when Anna overstays her student visa, is caught, and must return home to England, legally forbidden to return to the States, interrupting their constant companionship, which had allowed their bond to develop. The manner in which Anna and Jacob adjust to their separation, enter into new relationships, suffer from longing, come together for romantic visits, and take the impetuous steps toward marriage, infidelity and heartbreak, forms the remainder of this surprising and touching film.

Visually, the film was worrisome to me at the start by the use of a hand-held camera, (the "indie" badge of honor), that was noticeably bouncy in the opening ten minutes. After a while, though, the camera settled down, and its mobility started to be a plus, keeping the film light, and allowing us to go with them into the most intimate of spaces.

I also noticed, and appreciated, a nicely worked-out scheme in which Anna and Jacob often appear in a scene with a wall between them, or the line of a door, or are posed standing face to face with backgrounds of different designs or textures. This was a nice way to represent their togetherness and separateness at the same time, the constant barriers that they must break as a couple.

I wish I could have been on the set to watch this film being made. One reason "Like Crazy" feels fresh and immediate is the contribution of each performer. Felicity Jones has received the lion's share of praise for her embodiment of a passionate, flawed and creative free-spirit. The praise is entirely deserved. For me, though, the film belongs to Anton Yelchin, whose soft-spoken boyish generosity is the strong center around which Anna's quirky energy revolves. Yelchin seems to age visibly as the film progresses. His low-key delivery, and the intensity by which he pays attention to his co-star, rivet one's attention to him. When he presents Jones with a gift, it is as heartfelt a gesture as anything currently at the movies. (I will hereafter look at a chair with new admiration and affection!)

There is another interesting element to their performances that is closely tied to the writing and direction: Jones and Yelchin are said to have improvised much of their dialog, using the screenplay as a blueprint. Allowing this contribution, from actors who may be very close to their characters in experience and temperament, enhances the movie's originality, and adds unpredictable layers of complexity to their interpretations of newly-found love.

In supporting roles, I especially liked Jennifer Lawrence and Charlie Bewley as Samantha and Simon, Jacob's and Anna's respective rebound love interests. Lawrence draws on deep reserves of emotion for a heartbreaking and very real character. Bewley mostly overcomes an underwritten part, and creates a strong and memorable screen presence. I hope they do more serious types of films like this that will interest me.

A couple of minor flaws bear mentioning. There are gaps in the plotting toward the climax. For instance, when a marriage proposal is made late in the film, one can't be sure if the character making the proposal is aware that his intended is already married. I think some tighter scripting, adding some key moments when the characters talk about their dilemma and discuss options, might have made the ensuing action more believable. And I am ready for Hollywood to retire a new cliche: that of having a character's secrets exposed by the accidental reading of an i-phone text. ("Ides of March", which I will review later, also uses this device for a major plot-point. Enough!)

But these are technical quibbles, that are not enough to ruin my enjoyment of the central relationship in "Like Crazy". A breezy film that plays like springtime love itself, it is a closely observed, bittersweet modern take on the well- traveled road of cinematic romance that, if it find its audience, will endure as a small classic.

Tonight! PBS Reviews the Career of Woody Allen-- Sunday Journal #1

2011-11-20T19:19:00.003-06:00

PBS' wonderful series American Masters is about to broadcast a gift to movie-lovers everywhere, with the premiere of Woody Allen: A Documentary, tonight at 8:00pm (Chicago time).

Filmmaker Robert B. Wiede was granted access to Allen on and off the sets of his latest films. His two-part biography (part 2 airs tomorrow, Monday November 21 at 9pm, CST) promises to be a feast of comedy, clips, and insight into this singular intellect, artist and entertainer.

I am looking forward to a look back at Allen's early days as a standup comic and perennial late-night talk-show guest; his breakout as a gag-writer as well as a writer of some of the funniest books ever written ("Without Feathers"); his foray into filmmaking with his crude, awkward but devastating comedies ("What's Up, Tiger Lily?", "Take the Money and Run"); his famous and infamous romances with leading ladies (Diane Keaton, Mia Farrow), and his maturity into a filmmaker of depth and richness, a director of some all-time classics ("Annie Hall", of course, and "Manhattan", and now "Midnight in Paris").

If you are familiar with Allen only from his films of the last decade, or his notorious recent personal life; and you love movies; you owe it to yourself to check this program out.

I hope it lives up to the buildup I have done here, and in my mind's eye!

Later this week I will review the program, and describe my own "relationship" with Allen since I was a budding high-school film critic.

(Also up this week: reviews of "Like Crazy" and "Ides of March"... good movies both!)

Enjoy this clip from "American Masters: Woody Allen" offered by the PBS web site:

A Favorite Blogger Takes a Break--Sunday Journal #2

2011-11-20T18:35:00.008-06:00

I want to recognize a fellow blogger, Ben of Runs Like A Gay, who has decided to take an indefinite break from writing.

Ben, who has been a prolific purveyor of film news, celebrity birthday greetings, and thought-provoking movie reviews for over three years, made a bold statement in his post yesterday: that he no longer enjoys writing.

I think it is courageous for a writer to admit when the pleasure has gone, and it has become merely a chore.

Almost everyone in any profession, vocation, or hobby, confronts that moment when the activity seems to be nothing more than an obligation, when the original passion, fun, and satisfaction is no longer driving one's efforts.

This is especially difficult when the activity is a creative one. I applaud Ben and others who feel they need to take some time away, for their sake and for the sake of their art, rather than continue, and risk their work becoming tired.

I never felt that Ben's work was tired, or forced. I think he has a lot to give to the blogosphere, and to all of us writers and movie lovers who toil at this lonely thing called blogging, in hopes that we satisfy our readers, whoever they are, whether they grace us with comments or not.

Ben, I will remember our debates, and will always cherish the chocolate reward from a past contest. Most of all, thank you for supporting me, a fellow blogger, with your thoughtful comments and praise, while I did the best I could to say what I think, and feel.

In the next few weeks, I will make an effort to recognize others of you who have visited these pages, who have regularly provided encouragement, and whose work I enjoy, and learn from, like Ben's.

Take your time, Ben. Refill your pipeline. I hope that very soon you feel that spark, that motivation to write because you just have to, and because nothing else will satisfy you more.

Until then, all the best, and know that you are welcome here any time.

REELING Mini-Reviews: 3 Movies of LGBT Interest

2011-11-19T15:03:00.009-06:00

It has been a rich Autumn for Film Festivals in Chicago. Last week, REELING, Chicago's LGBT Film Festival, ended it's 30th Anniversary celebration.
The schedule (click here) was crammed with intriguing films from the world over, and I was fortunate enough to catch three of them.

First, an encore of "30 Cats In 30 Seconds", which ran before every film at the festival...Enjoy, and stay for three brief reviews of films from Italy, Germany, and the U. S.

* * * *
"Loose Cannons" (Italy) -- One of my favorite films of the year tells the story of Tommaso, the youngest son of an eccentric Italian family. On the night he plans to come out to everyone during an important family dinner, his older brother surprises everyone by beating him to the punch. Tommaso must decide if he can go through with his family's plans to have him take over their pasta business, and must weigh their health, and happiness, against a life of hiding and dishonesty. Although the supporting characters are broadly drawn, especially Tommaso's father and sexually voracious aunt, there is much truthful observation of the dynamics of the Italian family.

The film may seem cliched at first in its treatment of homosexuality as a punch-line; but after a while we realize that "Loose Canons", in it's humorous way, makes some wry observations about familial expectations, loyalty, acceptance, and unreasonable attitudes that pass down unquestioned through generations. The effect is one of appreciation of our foibles, and forgiveness of those who are victims of their cultures.

When Tommaso's friends come from Rome to visit him at the family villa, the uninhibited European humor renders this one of the funniest films of the year. A mysterious prologue and framing device pulls the family history together, as Tommaso discovers that he and his grandmother are kindred spirits in their shared dilemma of romantic sacrifice. As she leaves this world in a bittersweet scene reminiscent of "Chocolat", the film moves into a fantasy sequence that makes the film blossom with meaning. Charming, well-observed, wonderfully written, and performed to a hilt by talented and attractive actors, "Loose Canons" is a film worth making a special effort to find.

* * * *

"The Green" (U.S.) -- This film played a couple of weeks before the Penn State scandal was splashed across the media, with its sordid story of a revered football coach who is indicted for sexually abusing young boys. "The Green" attracted my attention first of all for the appearance of Cheyenne Jackson, the hunky actor who appeared in the Tony-nominated musical "Xanadu" as well as guest spots in the popular TV series "30 Rock". In "The Green", Jackson is Daniel, who, together with partner Michael (Jason Butler Harner), a high school drama teacher, move from New York to a small Connecticut town. Soon, Michael's troubled past comes to haunt him, as a student in his drama class accuses him of inappropriate behavior.

The film is an intriguing look at false accusations and family secrets, and raises some compelling legal issues, before the screenplay wallows in clunky melodrama. All in all, however, "The Green" provides suspense, beautiful lensing, and good performances by the entire cast, especially Harner and Jackson, who overcome the contrivances of the script, and are powerful screen presences.

"Romeos" (Germany)-- My favorite of the three, a film that could appear on major top-ten critics lists if given a proper release. It's the unusual story of a character we never see on the big screen. Lukas is a young man , formerly Miri, who is transitioning from female to male, whose adjustment to adult life is complicated by the physical and psychological challenges of inhabiting a new gender. The film is refreshingly honest, and neither sensational nor exploitative, as one might come to expect from an American film treatment of the same subject matter. This is not a devastating message picture like "Boys Don't Cry,", but a sweet-tempered original unlike anything else you are likely to see.

Lukas needs to assert his maleness, even though his civil service dorm assignment still considers him a female. He must do his best to pretend that he was placed there due to a lack of beds in the male dorm, and redefine his relationship with his Lesbian best friend Ine. When Lukas meets the handsome, dominant Fabio, he must decide if he can reveal his true nature, and complete a life lived in honesty. The budding romance, and ensuing conflict, between Fabio and Lukas is just one of the many highlights of this fast-paced, terrific example of modern filmmaking. The film works mostly because the actors are so natural in their roles. Rick Okon is a trans actor whose openness matches his skill as an actor. Maximilian Beaufort as Fabio is a terrific heart-throb.
I can't wait to see this again.

National Book Awards 2011--Let the Award Season Begin!

2011-11-17T21:07:00.007-06:00

It's that time again, as the literary world recognizes the best efforts of authors around the country.

The National Book Awards, (along with the Pulitzer Prizes), have held my interest for many years. When I started reading in earnest again, after 9/11, the lists of winners and finalists from both Literary Awards helped me identify quality writing. From these, I identified favorite authors, read more of their work, which helped me branch out into other works in similar genres.

As I read more, I gained confidence in my evaluations of quality, and relied less on the award itself as anything more than a way of locating serious new work. I began writing more, too, so I was less intimidated by the opinions of "experts". I thought more about what I was reading, and honed my critical skills, asserting my own opinion of a work, good or bad.

More and more each year, I am unfamiliar with some of the authors of the books that are chosen as finalists and winners. That, to me, is a good thing, because it says that publishers are accepting new work, and submitting excellent work from new voices. That gives new hope to writers like myself. It also provides readers like myself an introduction to original writing, and is endlessly inspiring and enlightening. I have my reading material for the winter!

Movie lovers, too, might enjoy picking out which books could have the makings of an Oscar-winning film!

The diverse and interesting subjects of this year's 5 selected works of Fiction include: an adventure set in the Italian Alps in World War One; a Balkan woman's search through "the Jungle Book" for clues to her Grandfather's death; an epic about Japanese "picture brides" in San Francisco circa 1900; classic and contemporary short stories spanning the globe and four decades; and a tale of a motherless Mississippi family's survival in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

The cited Non-Fiction works include: a young New York Jewish woman converts to Islam and embraces her exile in Pakistan; the little-known love story between Karl Marx and Jenny von Westphalen as he works on his book Kapital; a Renaissance book hunter in 1417 locates a book by Poggio Bracciolini that predicted the existence of atoms and disputed the existence of God; a newly-researched biography that chronicled the constant re-invention of Malcolm X; and he story of Nobel-Prize scientist Marie Curie, her work, and her bittersweet marriage.

The 2011 Award page from the National Book Award web site appears below. Match the book with its capsule description, and see which books won the prize. Click on the book cover to learn more about the book, its author, and read excerpts. (The books to the far right may be cut off...just click on the left edge!)

2011 NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FINALISTS ANNOUNCED

FICTION

WINNER: Jesmyn Ward, Salvage the Bones
(Bloomsbury USA) - Interview coming soon.
FINALISTS:
Andrew Krivak, The Sojourn
(Bellevue Literary Press) - Interview
Téa Obreht, The Tiger's Wife
(Random House) - Interview coming soon.
Julie Otsuka, The Buddha in the Attic
(Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House) - Interview
Edith Pearlman, Binocular Vision
(Lookout Books, an imprint of the Department of Creative Writing at the University of North Carolina Wilmington) - Interview
Fiction Judges: Deirdre McNamer (Panel Chair), Jerome Charyn,
John Crowley, Victor LaValle, Yiyun Li

NONFICTION

WINNER: Stephen Greenblatt, The Swerve: How the World Became Modern
(W. W. Norton & Company) - Interview
FINALISTS:
Deborah Baker, The Convert: A Tale of Exile and Extremism
(Graywolf Press) - Interview
Mary Gabriel, Love and Capital: Karl and Jenny Marx and the Birth of a Revolution
(Little, Brown and Company) - Interview
Manning Marable, Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention
(Viking Press, an imprint of Penguin Group USA) - Interview
Lauren Redniss, Radioactive: Marie & Pierre Curie, A Tale of Love and Fallout
(It Books, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers) - Interview
Nonfiction Judges: Alice Kaplan (Panel Chair), Yunte Huang,
Jill Lepore, Barbara Savage

Beyond Brokeback: A Return to The Movie That Changed Everything

2011-11-16T23:59:00.007-06:00

Last Sunday, Mark and I attended a special program called "Beyond Brokeback" at Chicago's Auditorium Theater. This was a special, big-screen presentation of 2005's "Brokeback Mountain", followed by a brief panel discussion, and a performance of an original reading and music performed by members of the Ultimate Brokeback Forum.

We stumbled upon this event by accident about three weeks ago. On a leisurely walk through our favorite Andersonville neighborhood, we dropped by the Chicago Filmmakers' storefront to check out what was new. On the entrance table crowded with information, we spotted the promotional "postcard"---an appropriate way to advertise this particular program.

It was an awe-inspiring experience to view "Brokeback Mountain" in the surroundings of the big, historic (1889) Auditorium Theater. It had been five years since we saw it on a big screen. The projection was crisp and the sound system was exquisite. To see "Brokeback Mountain" in the way in which it was intended to be seen, even after having watched the film many times on suburban screens and home video, had the same gut-wrenching impact it did on my first viewing.

*      *      *      *      *      *

The opening thirty minutes of "Brokeback Mountain" are as perfect a work of filmmaking I have ever seen. This idyllic sequence, removed from civilization, in which Ennis and Jack transcend their sheltered, inarticulate origins and find in each other a love they can't explain, let alone understand, stands on its own as a complete short film. That's why the remainder of the movie, where the passing of the characters' years is as compressed as their lives, which inevitably trap and confine them, is so utterly heartbreaking.

And then there is the pivotal scene in the tent, the focal point of all of the controversy, the hate, the satire, the fear, the held breaths, the discussion that the film inspired for months after its release. After several years, and repeated viewings, this two-minute sequence remained for me as powerful as ever. I was struck by the passionate violence of it, as though someone who is about to drown finally surfaces, gasping for life.

This is the scene that changed everything for these characters, for audiences, and for Mainstream Filmmaking. This uncontrollable, desperate sexual encounter by these fumbling, dreamy characters,  icons of American masculinity, instictive and animal-like in its intensity, was an historic movie moment. Try as it might, Hollywood could not deny that after this scene, nothing would ever be the same for moviegoers or filmmakers.  Hollywood instead denied the film a Best Picture Oscar, in spite of the most universal critical acclaim ever earned by a nominee that lost in that category.

"Brokeback Mountain" is a very rare film indeed, in which every scene, every moment is necessary, each piece of music captures the emotional resonance of a sequence, each camera setup is perfect to the exact millimeter, every line reading is inevitable, essential. Everything moves toward the eloquent final image, in which a man, touched beyond his ability to fully contain his passion, finds his life tragically reduced to two bloodied shirts and a postcard.  His view, no longer that of a vast and beautiful wilderness filled with possibility, becomes a small glimpse at a desolate field, framed from within a murky mobile-home window.

*      *      *      *      *      *

After the screening, with only 15 minutes to recover from a deep sense of quiet and sadness, we stayed for a panel discussion. The panel included  Jean de St. Aubin, Executive Director of the Gene Siskel Film Center; Larry Howe, Professor of English at Roosevelt University; and Bruce Jenkins, Professor of Film, Video, and New Media at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. All were introduced by Dr. Chris Chulos, Chair of the History Department at Roosevelt University.

Aubin recounted some interesting history around the film's critical reception, finishing with an excerpt from Roger Ebert's original 4-star review. Jenkins had some good insights onto the psychology and sociology of the film. Howe was less impressive, deconstructing the film in the typically dry scholarly fashion that sucks out all of the passsion and fun one brings with them to the art of film.

I was proud of Mark, who rose for a question, and received much applause for his comments. Mark asked why, after "Brokeback", Hollywood still finds it difficult to make more authentic gay films, or include more incidentally gay characters, instead of cloaked material full of innuendo like "J. Edgar". The panel struggled to find an answer, retreating into titles form 20 years ago, or citing the ever-progresssive filmmakers of Europe. At least they recalled titles like "Milk" and "The Kids are All Right", although, as good as those films are, neither has the visceral impact of Ang Lee's remarkable film.

*      *      *      *      *      *
Owing mostly to our long drive back to the suburbs, we did not stay for the staged reading, with original music. In a way I regret having missed it; but then, after the power of the film, it would have been difficult to concentrate on another rendering of the story, or to give it the attention and emotional investment it deserved. Maybe I will catch it again in another city, or on a return encore presentation. Perhaps the group can be persuaded to put the performance on DVD, or post on YouTube. Their next performance is scheduled for February in Las Vegas.  I wish them all well.

Film Review--"J.Edgar" Falters in Most Departments

2011-11-15T23:55:00.043-06:00

I really hate to do this...

In Woody Allen's 1971 comedy "Bananas", there is a madcap courtroom scene, where the person in the picture below is called to the stand, with the following dialogue:

Attorney: Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?
Witness: l do.
Attorney: Name?
Witness: J Edgar Hoover.
Attorney: Occupation?
Witness: Head of the FBl.
Attorney: Tell the court why you're dressed like this.
Witness: l have many enemies and l rarely go out unless l'm in disguise.
Attorney: Mr Hoover, in your opinion,is Fielding Mellish a threat to the security of the United States?
Witness: Enough to have his phone tapped.

If Dorothi Fox, who was such a hoot as Hoover in "Bananas", could have been persuaded to reprise her role in Clint Eastwood's erratic, ambitious, but muddled bio-pic,"J. Edgar", the result might have been more entertaining.

"J. Edgar" arrived highly anticipated (the blogosphere had practically awarded Leonardo DiCaprio an Oscar before the film's release).  This, even though J. Edgar Hoover, the film's true-life subject, a single-minded, controversial, enigmatic, racist, homophobic, paranoid founder of the FBI, has faded out of popular consciousness; younger audiences may be totally unfamiliar with him. There seemed little reason to create a contemporary mainstream film about such an unpleasant figure, unless it could shed some light on modern criminal investigation, or the extent to which the country has evolved (or not) socially or politically.

So, a major Oscar-season prestige movie about Hoover was risky. A lively historic epic, which used Edgar's story to explain the origins of, and draw parallels to, modern concerns about national security, curtailed personal and social rights, and governmental bureaucracy, could have been not only exciting but invaluable. "J. Edgar", sadly, misses opportunities to make these parallels clear.

If any film had the makings of a modern classic, it was "J. Edgar": the story of a controversial American, set during one of our most interesting and tumultuous periods (1930's through 1960's), with impeccable design, produced by a previous Oscar-winner (Brian Grazer), with a complex screenplay by a writer who won an Oscar for an epic, gay-themed biography (Dustin Lance Black), top-tier performers with a high attractiveness factor (DiCaprio, Armie Hammer, Naomi Watts), and guided by the steady hand of an Oscar-winning director (Eastwood).

"J.Edgar" tries to encompass events of four decades to tell the story of how Hoover was selected to start the new Federal Bureau of Investigation; his surreptitious and dangerous blackmail of famous leaders and celebrities by keeping volumes of illegally gathered and incriminating files; and his success in introducing scientific methods to criminal investigation, particularly the tragic kidnapping of Charles Lindbergh's baby in 1932.

And it tries to be a study of the man, and his relationships to key people in his life: his long-time secretary, Helen Gandy, who spurned his early marriage proposal (competently played by Naomi Watts); his powerful and driven mother, a clever and ambitious homophobe (the always fabulous Judi Dench), to whom he was devoted and with whom he lived his whole life; and Clyde Tolson, Hoover's handsome, hand-picked assistant, with whom he shared an intensely close friendship and a rumored love-affair that lasted decades. Tolson is played by Armie Hammer in the movie's hottest, most convincing portrayal.

So why did "J. Edgar" misfire so badly, in the opinion of this writer? Why do I think it might one day be regarded as the Millenials' equivalent of a camp classic on the order of "Valley of the Dolls"?

First of all, one has to question the motives and intentions of those involved in the making of the picture. The studio, Warner Brothers, used to require Hoover's personal approval, to ensure a positive image for the Bureau, before proceeding with big-screen and television treatments of the FBI. Director Eastwood (who has publicly advocated for gay marriage rights), while introducing some of Hoover's more damaging traits, seeks to present a balanced picture, and waters down some of Hoover's heinous behavior that ruined lives. Black may have been tapped to lend legitimacy to the "elephant in the room": Hoover's rumored self-loathing homosexuality.

In short, confusion about the film's direction and purpose is very evident on the screen. After a while, one can only gape at the set pieces, and grasp at whatever dramatic tension one can, or else chuckle in embarrassment... or yawn.

However the idea originated, it feels like a devil's bargain: Eastwood could give the picture a slightly heroic, patriotic American slant, as long as Black could address the gay-martyr angle, but sensitively, "tastefully". Meanwhile, a whole lot of significant and damning history is glossed over, or simply tossed aside.

Second of all, Black's script provides the sand-shifting foundation upon which the whole thing crumbles. What attracted Black to this material in the first place? Unless it was a studio assignment, I can't imagine the writer who memorialized Harvey Milk would be naturally given to write the story of such an unredeemed homophobe.  If Black's attempt to humanize Hoover, and provide a cautionary tale about how sexual repression manifests itself in cruelty and paranoia, was well-intended, the result is often misguided soap-opera.

This isn't a screenplay, it's a term-paper. No--it's a research paper still on note cards, which were dropped on the floor, and Black picked them up in the wrong order: the constant shifting back and forth between time periods is distracting, with no moment of clarity, of insight. The technique by which the title character dictates his life story, while the film flashes back to portray his anecdotes, was successful in "Milk", "Amadeus" and many others. In them, the dictation scenes are used as an anchor, with a consistent listener, to which the film could return to breathe, before going on to the next sequence. Here, even the guys taking dictation change from time to time with no explanation.

Toward the end, when an aging Tolson chides Hoover for misrepresenting his whole life, and we discover that a lot of what we just witnessed was not true, the viewer gets the impression not that Hoover was the secretive, dishonest and dangerous character that he was, but that he merely over-exaggerated his reputation in order to sell more comic books.

Clearly, Black has no feeling for the historic events involved, and he fails to find their relevance. Black demonstrates his true strength in the highly-charged interchanges between his characters, where emotions can be expressed, which are at turns compelling, dramatic, unnerving, erotic. If "J. Edgar" were to narrow its focus, move chronologically across many events, or just concentrate on the relationship with Tolson, or the mother-son thing, or the Lindbergh kidnapping as the most significant event in Hoover's professional life, "J. Edgar" would have been more powerful, more worthy of consideration as a serious undertaking.

The third misfire in this film, I am afraid, is in the casting of DiCaprio as Hoover. Much has been made of his portrayal that spans across decades, and the painstaking aging process (discussed below). From my first glimpse of the early trailers, I knew that DiCaprio, whose best roles have been character parts or romantic heroes, was badly miscast. This could be the worst piece of miscasting of the year. DiCaprio works so damn hard, and he isn't terrible, just---wrong, and there wasn't one moment where I was not aware that this is a boyish actor, struggling to convince us that he is this bulldog of an historic figure. It was as if a youngster dressed up in his father's--no, his grandfather's--wardrobe, to do some play-acting.

More than the failed look, though, is DiCaprio's voice. He tries valiantly to mimic Hoover's clipped vocal inflections, and unusual accent, but Leo is cursed with a laid-back adolescent's diction. It drips from his consonants and bleeds through in his long, serious monologues. Even if the movie had a better script, the film's success lies in our ability to accept the actor as Hoover. It doesn't matter if he "played" it well...Meryl Streep could have played it well too, but she would not have been any more convincing. (DiCaprio's eyebrows, his tool for expressing just about everything, get a great workout here.)

The fourth misstep might be Eastwood himself. A director with a firmer touch would have had better control of his casting, the pacing, and the look of the film. He might have insisted that the screenplay take more time in some areas, less time in others, and clarify its history. Although the set design and costuming are terrific, the film is drained of all color, and different periods of time all have the same dreary look, which adds to the confusion. Eastwood's palate, aided by his long-time cinematographer, is that of an ashtray having been emptied on a soiled diaper.

Eastwood knows how to stage his actors, and shows some surprising sensitivity in his scenes with DiCaprio and Watts, or Dench's evil admonishments, or the building passion between Hammer and DiCaprio. But some scenes are head-shaking in their misguidedness.

Hoover's reaction to his mother's death, by donning her dress and speaking her words, is a half-assed speculation meant to address rumors of Hoover's cross-dressing. Mrs. Bates must be smiling.

There is much innuendo in the Hoover-Tolson scenes, and Hammer, with his smooth voice and handsome, sincere openness, makes them work. The climactic glass-shattering altercation between Hoover and Tolson, in which jealousies come to a head, and Tolson plants a kiss on the shocked but yielding Hoover's bloodied mouth, is a sexually provocative gay moment. But the film's failure to pursue this astonishing plot development brings us back to an unfortunate, pre-"Brokeback" era in Hollywood film.

This scene, highly discussed, is one of the best scenes in the film, but it hardly belongs in this film about Hoover. Did anyone think that, perhaps, a fiction film, starring DiCaprio and Hammer, as two attractive men who discover their mutual passion and love, could have come off just as well, if not better?

Finally, I felt that to anyone who didn't know much about Hoover before the film, "J. Edgar" would leave one with an uncomfortably muddled, even undeservedly positive view of the man. The film plays like a greatest-hits of crime-scene accomplishments, achieved by a tragic figure who might have been a better person if he were able to consummate his love. The tone was, in the end, heroic, I think, and inappropriately so. Eastwood, who lived through the Hoover era, surprises me; maybe it's a tacit gratitude for a Dirty Harry role model, someone who breaks the rules to enforce the rules?

The fifth and biggest blunder is also the hardest to understand. This movie practically drowns in makeup, and bad impersonations. Actors portraying Robert Kennedy and Richard Nixon are especially bad. There was no reason, really to include them as screen characters, and so they exist as symbols, meant to elicit an emotional reaction from viewers from a certain era, but without any context of their own.

And the makeup....Tons of it. DiCaprio looks like Jack Nicholson as Jimmy Hoffa through about half the film, another reason why, if an actor needs to be so disguised to play a part, then the part must be a bad fit. Armie Hammer comes off the worst, with latex slathering all over his head and face, that takes away any trace of his actual features. Tolson would have been about 65 in these scenes, but Hammer looks well past 90, and he moves with a tremor; the film makes him look like Henry Fonda AND Katharine Hepburn in "On Golden Pond". Naomi watts, makeup or no, inhabits her role very well, but she is unrecognizable for most of it; could they not just hire some older performers? Judi Dench---well, if anything, they made her look a year or two younger in some scenes.

As I sat through "J. Edgar", and did my best to get absorbed in the "love story" and make heads or tails out of the film's portrayal of history, I wondered how an average viewer, sincerely interested in the subject matter, would come away from the film. I suspect the word of mouth has not been good. I hate to add to that, but I have to say that "J. Edgar" was one of the year's big disappointments.

Coming: Edgar Visited, Ennis Re-Visited, and REELING Cute Cats -(Sunday Journal 1)

2011-11-13T23:55:00.005-06:00

Stay tuned for more film writing in the coming week, including these 3 features:

1. Kiss and MAKE-UP!!!!!!!
(A review of "J. Edgar")

2. Beyond Brokeback Mountain: nothing has ever been the same...

3. Some great films from the REELING Chicago LGBT Film Festival. Here is a video of the tailer that was played before each screening, a cute and funny way to showcase the festival Sponsors.
Enjoy "30 Cats in 30 Seconds" !

Good Riddance, Oscar-Style (Sunday Journal 2)

2011-11-13T23:03:00.002-06:00

Will the Motion Picture Academy never learn?

Thank goodness Billy Beane didn't use whatever formula Oscar has been using to choose a host for the Academy Awards. Last year, to appeal to a "contemporary" demographic, Anne Hathaway and James Franco were hired, and then floundered through bad writing, lousy routines, and nominee stress, only to be thanklessly savaged by the media and the blogosphere right after.

This year's original Oscarcast helmsman Brett Ratner, a producer of mostly forgettable films and a few TV series, had carte-blanche to hire a host, and his selection was that great spokesman for cinematic art and science---Eddie Murphy. Really.

Until I was shocked by Murphy's appearance in the trailer for "Tower Heist", I thought he was in some kind of semi-retirement. Ratner's choice seemed like a bald-faced ploy to promote the new film, or to return some kind of favor to Murphy.

OK, so Murphy may be staging a comeback; so how does that make him relevant to this year's films, to Oscar history, or to a target demographic who must be lukewarm to him at least? Does he still have that much draw on audiences and sponsors? Besides, Murphy does not leap to mind during most discussions of fine, "Oscar-worthy" films. At least let him prove that he has, in fact, come back strong, before installing him as the face of the year's biggest night for movies and movie-lovers.

Now that Ratner is out, owing to his politically incorrect flub that "rehearsals are for fags", Murphy, a friend of Ratner's, left in a huff. (Read this great piece on the industry's reaction to Ratner and his exit, in Hollywood Reporter.)

Considering how gay-themed films have fared in 80-plus years of Best Pictures (does ANYONE remember Oscar-year 2005?), the Academy's self-righteousness is almost laughable. Now Brian Grazer, admittedly a mainstream-movie heavy-hitter, is at the Oscar-night helm. But is Grazer an improvement in the sensitivity department? His latest comedy, "The Dilemma", stirred controversy for a questionable line delivered by Vince Vaughn, where the word "gay" is used as a pejorative.

Plus, Grazer is a co-producer of the new "J. Edgar". No comment (my review is coming soon).

Let's hope Oscar's old friend Billy Crystal still has the wit and the know-how, and the power to stand up to bad writing that would sabotage him.

Remembering "Family Circus", and a Favorite Spot in Scottsdale (Sunday Journal 3)

2011-11-13T22:03:00.001-06:00

Last week, cartoonist Bil Keane (with one "l"), creator of the gentle, circle-shaped comic "Family Circus", passed away. He was 89.

Keane wanted each panel to bring a smile of recognition to typical suburban homes with parents, kids, dogs, and the occasional bemused grandparent. The cartoon began in 1960, and eventually was syndicated in over 1500 newspapers. Compilation cartoon books of the "Family Circus" sold millions.

Although I was not a "Family Circus" fanatic, I certainly enjoyed the cartoon in the daily newspaper. What saddened me most about Keane's passing was a personal connection I had to the comic strip. It is a very remote connection to be sure, but it brings back fond recollections of the time when I lived in Scottsdale, Arizona.

You see, there is a well-known and beloved ice cream parlor in Old Town Scottsdale called The Sugar Bowl, with its memorable pink-and white decor straight from the 1950's when it opened. Bil Keane, who lived in nearby Paradise Valley, set his comic strip in Scottsdale, and often used the Sugar Bowl as the setting. The parlor reciprocated by printing Keane's cartoons in its menu, and featuring Family Circus memorabilia all over the shop.

You can still see them there.

It was a favorite spot of mine on those sweltering summer days, when I was adjusting to the loneliness and excitement of being away from Chicago, the seismic fears of coming out, the preparations for a new job, and school at ASU, all tempered by generous servings of pasta and laughs from my grandparents, who lived nearby and provided me an almost daily life raft.

My grandmother would pass away eight months after my arrival.

I spent more time with Sam, my grandfather, after Lucy was gone. After the mourning of the loss subsided, we enjoyed each other's company, and teased each other like college guys.

Sometimes he would come with me for a sundae at the Sugar Bowl. Occasionally my cousin Tim would visit on business, and the three of us would go for lunch. Sam marvelled at our gusto with food, especially ice cream.

I loved the Dusty Road: chocolate ice cream, chocolate sauce, and a sprinkling of malt powder, covered with whipped cream. I still enjoy it to this day.

I am printing some of the cartoons found on the Sugar Bowl Web Site. I hope those who find this post will enjoy them as much as I do; maybe some readers have been to the Sugar Bowl too.

Most of all, it gives me a chance to revisit Scottsdale, one of my life's touchstones, a place to which I will return often, perhaps as my life's final home base.

"M-4" Is Spellbinding

2011-11-12T23:57:00.008-06:00

"I know who I am", claims the withdrawn, secretive Martha, after she has run away from a cult to the insulated, comfortable life of her concerned older sister, in "Martha Marcy May Marlene". She declares this as if to convince herself more than her confused sister and impatient brother-in-law.  "M-4", a hypnotic film that sneaks up on a viewer, challenges our notions of self-definition, the way modern life demands us to play different roles, and touches on our fear that at some point we will no longer be able to maintain our carefully crafted identities without them blurring into one another.

But all of this is incidental to the film's spellbinding success as an atmospheric mood piece, a psychological mystery, and a miniature thriller. It wants to draw us into the mind of this damaged young woman.

"M-4" moves back and forth between Martha's reticent and troubling reunion with her sister, and flashbacks to her time spent in an almost idyllic rustic commune where the clock seems to have been turned back on cultural norms and gender roles. It is like two films in one, and writer/director Sean Durkin clearly delineates the two through design and color and rhythm.

As Martha remembers more, and the sordid truth of her existence in the unnamed, unexplained cult is slowly peeled away to a scene of shocking violence, the two portions of the story slowly escalate in tension, in tandem, until we understand that Martha may not have completely shaken the delusion that she has never really escaped. It's a quiet cinematic exercise in suspense, and manipulation of our expectations.

While the film is sinister and beautiful in the flashbacks, it is just as beautiful and quietly suspenseful in the film's other half, at the lake house where Martha escapes. It is here, too, that the performances resonate.

Elizabeth Olsen is the movie's backbone, the point at which the two portions of the film diverge and come together. It is a tricky part, and Olsen manages to convince us that she is harboring dangerous secrets while at the same time is in a disbelieving haze. She erupts into toughness and then retreats, and we can understand her caretakers' fear. It is a strong, star-making performance.

No less effective is Sarah Paulson, as the older sister, who is aided by a nicely-written characterization; she alternates concern and frustration with what Martha refuses to talk about, and accomplishes this perfectly naturally.

As Martha's brother-in-law, Hugh Dancy is charming and handsome, and he verbalizes the viewer's own doubts about Martha's motives.  He confronts Martha, not realizing that her sudden displays of lethargic disrespect are part of her ongoing delusion.

Almost two weeks after seeing this film, what lingers is a quietness, an intensity, the feeling that something is building to a shocking revelation that will change the lives of these characters for good. The movie is filled with dread. It is also brimming with intensely beautiful images of the rural existence of the cult that held Martha for many years, and the safe existence of the lakehouse where Martha's sister takes her in.

Eating is an important motif. The emptiness of Martha's existence manifests itself in a preponderance of scenes in which Martha is eating; it is as if she is trying to fill the emptiness other than physical hunger. I liked the cleverness of this, as a viewer is likely to experience something of the physical emptiness of this character.

No explanation is ever given for why Martha was lured into joining a cult. The movie provides few insights into the trauma of cult behavior; this story is too specific, instead building to a shocking sequence involving a break-in and murder, which in itself would be enough to derail a sensitive girl like Martha. John Hawkes, as the smooth leader and womanizer, is good enough to make us believe that he can hold these young people in his spell, and lead them to situations that require sudden violence.  This was my first exposure to Hawkes (I missed "Winter's Bone") and he has sort of an addicted appearance, looking older than he probably is, with a weathered, sinewy, almost emaciated toughness. He is likely to be typecast in unsavory roles.

The film's title was hopelessly scrambled in my mind until Hawkes' character tells Martha that she "looks like a Marcy May". The Marlene of the title refers to an alias that all women are instructed to assume when taking phone calls in the commune.

The end of the film may be a little bit of a cheat. No spoilers here, but given the fact that there is still so much we want to know about this character, that to end in mid-sequence, before we know if what we're seeing is real, and if so if a decision will be made, seems like a screenwriting cop-out.

That aside, "Martha Marcy May Marlene" is one of the year's more original and unusual films, a high-functioning indie, that I recommend to those in the mood for a mysterious visual experience and intriguing psychological study.

Film Review: "Moneyball"

2011-11-09T22:27:00.002-06:00

"Moneyball", the new film about Billy Beane, former baseball player and current General Manager of the Oakland Athletics, who brought his team unexpected success by recruiting undervalued players, is lean and smartly written, and you don't need to be a baseball fan to enjoy it. I can't deny that I had a special level of appreciation, having seen it one day after the final game of the 2011 World Series. The history and romance of the game still flooded my consciousness. That aside, "Moneyball" is compulsively watchable, is surprisingly relevant to the non-baseball world, and is great fun. It is, so far, one of the best films I have seen this year.

The movie combines classic storytelling with a multi-layered character study. "Moneyball" has, at its center, a showcase portrayal of a well-known, behind-the-scenes sports figure and businessman. Many viewers may find, to their surprise, that they will identify with this character's struggles and triumphs. The film covers the period in which Beane, stymied with one of the lowest budgets in Major League Baseball, steals a young business analyst from an opposing team (Jonah Hill in a winning, awkwardly nerdy performance). Together they create computerized statistical formulas to find inexpensive players, whose numbers indicate that they would be able to get on base, with the proper coaching. They recruit these players, find their strengths, and bolster their confidence to get on base and score runs. Mentor and Analyst both struggle against a roomful of old recruiters and a resistant Manager (Phillip Seymour Hoffman in his annoying, bravura best), and begin to see results that win (almost) everyone over to their side.

The film goes deeper, however, without losing sight of the fast-driving plot. "Moneyball" looks at how one man tries to adopt a modern outlook and overcome personal failure; it's a meditation on second chances, and a comic drama about the eternal struggle between traditions and innovations. "Adapt or die!", Pitt (as Beane) states midway through. It's fun to see this character throw his support behind something new and commit to it, occasionally slipping back into sentiment and interpersonal savvy when the new ways don't always provide the right answers.

Beane is particularly invested in the success of a newly recruited down-and-out first baseman, Scott Hatteberg (Chris Pratt). He identifies with Hatteberg's failures, his fears, and his family (both he and Beane are fathers, Beane of a musically talented teenage girl). This thread of the story gives "Moneyball" a warm human appeal. Pratt is very good in a small role that has viewers rooting for him.

"Moneyball" invites the inevitable comparisons to "Bull Durham" (1988). Both are insiders' looks at the quirks, personalities, and unexplainable serendipity that has made baseball survive, almost intact, over the last century. But whereas "Bull Durham" had a sly, almost whimsically romantic center, in which sex is the engine that powers the game, "Moneyball" substitutes sex with technology, and statistics. It's grounded in the sexless reality of business; it's a baseball movie for the Wall Street age.

There is no better metaphor in American movies for tradition, for "the old ways", than baseball, and "Moneyball" lampoons the staid old guys who fiercely guard the game's status quo, like old soldiers. The film also reserves some respect, even affection, for these traditionalists, even as it champions for modern technology as a way to gain a competitive edge.

The real-life Billy Beane, a young baseball whiz-kid, saw his own sports career flounder after turning down a college scholarship to play professional ball. The movie handles this in effective flashbacks that convey all we need to know in good cinematic shorthand. As Beane and his protege assemble a dubious roster of has-beens and underperformers for the hapless Oakland team, his instincts prove correct when the team achieves a record-breaking 20-game winning streak, and another shot at the World Series.

Beane turned down a multimillion-dollar offer to manage his dream-team, the Boston Red Sox. In a final irony, Beane's Athletics never achieved a World Championship. Instead, the Red Sox, using Beane's statistical methods, win their first World Series in decades. (Even more ironic, and not mentioned in the film: the Red Sox achieved this under the leadership of Theo Epstein, who was hired when Beane turned the job down, and who is now the President of Baseball Operations for the Chicago Cubs.)

Brad Pitt used to run hot and cold for me. He seemed to pick his roles randomly, and was hit-or-miss. I need not have worried. Pitt is terrific, giving himself over to Beane's portrayal, and getting under your skin, in a performance that is so natural that it might sadly go unnoticed for those year-end pieces of gold.

Pitt has matured well, and this is his most likeable, most nuanced portrayal. He has learned to minimize his facial mannerisms (assisted early on with judicious cutting), and has modulated his voice into a slightly deeper range, delivering his lines with mischief and honesty. Pitt has taken more risks lately, in serious work like "Babel" and "Tree of Life'. He comfortably inhabits a role without trying too hard to hide his persona. He makes his personality work for him, and he is as energetic as he is understated, so that he never seems miscast.

Aaron Sorkin is a puzzle for me. He seems to embrace some values that I generally reject (the glorification of technology, for one), and there is a smugness that wafts through some of his writing that I find off-putting. Is there anything less cinematic than watching movie characters click away at their keyboards? But I have to admit that, even if I find him a wee bit overrated, Sorkin can be a solid writer, and his work in "Moneyball" justifies his reputation as a master of pacing and witty dialogue. He has done marvels with memorable characterizations, too, and packs in a lot of baseball lore, character observation, and history, in a smooth piece of work that inspires creativity from all involved. The script was co-written by Steve Zaillan, whose films in general have failed to impress me (with few exceptions). Sorkin must have provided the wit, and Zaillan the heart, of the screenplay.

Bennett Miller ("Capote") displays a textbook example of strong, "invisible" direction, making every lighting decision, every closeup and character interaction, serve the story and its themes. He is great with actors, too, especially the reptilian Hoffman, in a supporting role as potent as his Truman Capote was gentle. Miller's is the kind of work that I hope will inspire more intelligent young filmmakers to rediscover the emotional and aesthetic pleasures of traditionally good storytelling and careful, layered direction. I hope Bennett, like Pitt, will merit more attention amid the grandstanding of more highly promoted films.

In a movie year filled with superheroes and 3-D, in which destruction has been offered up for our consumption, it is refreshing to spend time with characters who are outcasts, looking for second chances, and who spend their time building something good rather than tearing it down. I will see this movie again.

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(Post-script: There was one jarring note at the end of "Moneyball" that many people will miss, coming as it does over the closing credits. One of the films most charming sequences comes earlier, as Beane's daughter sings an original song, played on a guitar she wants to buy. Over the credits, the song is reprised on a recording she makes for her father, and without warning, there is a refrain, that goes something like "You're Such a Loser, Dad". Was it a joke from daughter to father? was it a downbeat commentary on Beane's inability to finally win that Series? In any case, it doesn't follow. It's a cute song, and can't carry the weight of irony.)

Mini-Review: Lasse Hallstrom's "Hachi"...Stark, True Story of a Dog

2011-11-07T22:55:00.000-06:00

Prologue:

Last week, I took a short break from the Internet, from e-mail (except at work), and the blog. I needed to reconnect with the feeling of relaxation that "unplugging" often provides. To "unplug" means there is no need to be "on" all the time, to think of new topics, to work and re-work a post (and writing, of any kind, of the serious kind, is hard work.)

But there is a danger of becoming addicted to the calmness, like as to Vicodin, and the longer I stay away, the more ways I can "justify" not writing for just one more night....

I caught up on sleep. My dislocated shoulder is healing. I am fighting the beast of oncoming winter depression, especially now that family challenges and obligations are weighing more now, like the chill in the winter air. In spite of this being a personal Journal, I have chosen not to be open about some matters. Maybe I can deal with them in my fiction. Hang in there with me....

I have immersed myself in the movies, logging in a couple of mainstream titles as well as some obscure "festival fodder" which have increased my enthusiasm for moviegoing once again, whetted my appetite for it.

Soon I'll find the energy to roll out a whole new "volume" of film reviews, especially now that at least a dozen new releases show some artistic promise, and have me excited.

I was pushing myself to complete reviews of two new movies I enjoyed, when this weekend I happened to surf on to a cable movie station....

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I had heard of "Hachi: A Dog's Tale" years ago, and remember being somewhat excited about its release. Unfortunately it never saw a theatrical release here, and I lost track of it.

The film, directed by the fine Lasse Hallstrom, is based on a true story from Japan in the early 1900's, and a 1987 Japanese film based on this story, about an Akita dog that was so devoted to its caregiver that it waited at the train station every afternoon at 5:00 for his return. Hachi even showed up at the station, living on the kind handouts of the townspeople, for ten years after the man died. The story was updated and transported to modern-day New England for this version, but the mystical Far East connection remains.

This is a stark and simple film that is unlike most American movies about dogs and their masters, (other than it made me cry buckets). It is a haunting tale of loyalty and loss that is profoundly, mysteriously moving precisely because there are no heartwarming resolutions or explanations. Just as the dog could not quite comprehend the sudden and prolonged disappearance of his deceased master, so the film is scaled to the dog's uncomprehending perspective, and we long to provide impossible comfort to this incredibly loving creature.

I admired Hallstrom's underrated artistry with the camera, his shots from Hachi's point-of-view lightly desaturated, the angles subtle and blending seamlessly with the objective narrative. The film moves quickly, which is fine, because it would be unbearably sad otherwise.

This is a work of poetry committed to film, in spite of the appearance of American actors not often associated with poetry. And yet, Richard Gere (a co-producer) is perfect as a gentle family man, a Rhode Island musician and High School teacher, who loses his heart to a puppy found wandering the town's train station after its crate falls from a luggage cart. Jason Alexander tones down the squinty mannerisms to portray a sympathetic station attendant. Joan Allen overcomes a hastily-written role as Gere's wife who objects to the puppy, at first. Soon her heart is lost too.

It is in the final thirty minutes that the film works its haunting magic, almost without dialogue, and with the accompaniment of Jan A. J. Kaczmarek's lovely piano score.

I object to Sony's decision to release the film straight to DVD in 2009 after a number of Film Festival dates. But I understand it too. This movie would not appeal to hyperactive American audiences who prefer their dog-stories to have lots of slapstick and a happy ending.

Those who have ever been loved by a dog will immediately warm to this movie. One wants to believe each of us is worthy of the kind of unending devotion shown by Hachi in this film.

November Coming Attractions; and A Retort to Clint Eastwood

2011-11-02T20:57:00.007-05:00

The movie (and theater) floodgates remain open. A lot of new releases to review, and a Tony-winning musical finally makes it to Chicago, too. "J. Edgar", "The Skin I Live In", "Like Crazy", and "My Week With Marilyn" are here or will arrive soon. Plus, the 30th Annual Reeling Film Festival, Chicago's movie feast for the LGBT community, arrives this week. Then there is the Thanksgiving holiday, which calls for a movie theme of its own (turkeys, anyone?). Finally, in two weeks, there is a special retrospective of a movie that affected me like no other.

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This week, look for reviews of "Moneyball" (finally) and "Martha Marcy May Marlene". I'll tip my hand and tell you that I enjoyed them both, in extremely different ways. The Billy Beane Baseball Bio had the added benefit of being screened the day after the final World Series game. "M4" was a subtle thriller that proved a good lead-in to Halloween.

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REELING, Chicago's LGBT Film Festival, celebrates its 30th Anniversary November 3-12. Not as esoteric as the Chicago International Film Festival (covered here last month), it nevertheless provides a holiday-type forum for 65 features, documentaries, and short films about GLBT history, art and culture. Without REELING, these films might not get general distribution otherwise.  The festival is inclusive, fun, and---yes, "gay" in every sense of the word.

Although some of the schedule contains the predictable, sterilized LOGO castoffs that resemble gay soft-core porn crossed with an after-school special, there are more than enough films of substance for those who like their entertainment to mean something, and maybe change their way of seeing.

Some of the titles that interest this reviewer are:  a comedy from Italy about tradition and family upheaval called "Loose Cannons (Mine Vaganti)"; an American drama in which a teacher may be a target of blackmail by a student in "The Green" (co-starring Cheyenne Jackson); "August", a torrid love triangle between two former lovers and a hot bartender; the highly anticipated documentary "Vito" which chronicles the life of Vito Russo, activist, writer and film-enthusiast, among whose lasting legacies is "The Celluloid Closet"; "This is What Love in Action Looks Like", which documents the story of Zach, a 16-year-old from Memphis who reacts against a fundamentalist program that promises to turn gay teens straight; and, from Germany, "Romeos", which played last month at the Chicago Film Fest (I missed it), tells the story of a pre-op female-to -male trans, whose life is further complicated by his attraction to an unsuspecting group leader.

(Just click on the film title links above for more descriptions and trailers of each!)

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Thanksgiving weekend, I'll have the opportunity to see 2010's Tony Award-winning Best Musical, "Memphis". This inspiring 1950's-era rock-and-roll tale of a white DJ and a black club singer who live their dreams and change the world comes highly recommended by friends who saw the Broadway version. More as the show-date approaches!

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On Sunday November 13, Chicago's Roosevelt University plays host to a remarkable screening and retrospective: "Beyond Brokeback: The Impact of a Film". This event was based on a book written by members of author Dave Cullen's massive blog, The Ultimate Brokeback Mountain Forum, which began in 2006 and really took off soon after the film's surprising and heartbreaking (for fans like me) Best Picture Oscar loss to "Crash".

The movie will be shown as it was meant to be seen, on a large screen, followed by an industry panel discussion about the impact of the film. Finally, a group of readers and musicians will perform interpretive pieces inspired by "Brokeback Mountain". I have been waiting a big-screen re-issue of this film, which remains one of the most important movie experiences of my life. This program, which I heard about almost by accident, is like a gay man's Brigadoon. Definitely more on this event in the coming weeks.

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A Final Note, speaking of films with gay themes:

In a New York Times on-line article about Leonardo DiCaprio and his new star vehicle "J.Edgar", I read a disturbing quote by director Clint Eastwood. The article speculated on just how closely the screenwriter, Dustin Lance Black ("Milk"), would examine the rumors of Hoover's homosexuality and penchant for cross-dressing. Apparently, there is an intense depiction of Hoover's relationship with his friend, Clive Tolson, in which DiCaprio and Armie Hammer share an on-screen kiss.

Eastwood was quoted commenting on this relationship thus:

“Obviously there’s a love story here,” Mr. Eastwood said. “Whether it is a gay love story or something else — well, the audience can interpret it. My intention was to show two men who really love each other, and beyond that it’s none of my business.”

Not a gay love story? Are we still using that line, which nervous promoters of "Brokeback" used in 2005 so as not to alienate "straight" audiences? Come on, Clint...have you MET your screenwriter? In this culture, when two men share a kiss on-screen, there is at the very LEAST a gay subtext. Why ignore it? Why deny it? It's just the way it is.

None of Eastwood's business? The audience can interpret it? There is no such quote attributed to Eastwood about the need to "interpret" the love story in his film "The Bridges of Madison County"; and that romance was CERTAINLY Eastwood's business. Whether "J. Edgar" is a smashing success or an embarrassment, this continued insistence on shrouding a gay theme in mystery, to wash one's hands of it when it appears to have been obviously treated in the film, must go.

A "Highbrow" Halloween Film Festival!

2011-10-30T23:48:00.003-05:00

Time to use your imaginations: You're all invited to our house for an off-beat Halloween film festival!

As much as I love the usual shockers ("The Exorcist", "Night of the Living Dead"), chillers ("Psycho", "The Shining") and other seasonal favorites at Halloween (from the ancient "Frankenstein" to "The Silence of the Lambs"), this year I have a yearning for the unconventional, the cerebral, those films that burrow into the mind as well as stimulate the scare reflex. Here are 7 of my perennial favorites, some of which are appropriately disturbing in spite of their reputations as being "highbrow".

(Highbrow, that is, with one notable exception.)

So grab your favorite trick-or-treat bon-bons, your favorite liqueur, snuggle into a favorite blanket, turn down the lights, and enjoy the following with me:

Klute (1971) A neglected, effective thriller with one of the essential performances given by any actress on film. Jane Fonda's portrayal of Bree Daniels, a high-class New York call girl in peril, elevates this chilling little gem into the realm of psychological portrait. In the tradition of "Psycho" we learn midway who the killer is, and we wait with dread for Bree's inevitable encounter. Alan Pakula's street-wise direction and a tinkling score enhance a brilliant screenplay. Shocks and suspense are plentiful, but Fonda, in complete command of her effects, delivers a tough, slinky, devastating portrayal you cannot take your eyes away from.

Black Swan (2010) Still the scariest movie I saw last year, ands, incidentally,the most moving. It's one of two horrific films about a young woman's coming-of-age on this list. While the clever re-working of the tragic "Swan Lake" and the detailed observation of the ballet world may satisfy the intelligentsia, it is the series of phantasmagoric images, all metaphors for the attraction and terror of sexual maturity, that hit one with force, and stay in one's memory. Malevolent portraits come to life, Natalie Portman suffers gruesome physical transformations, and Winona Ryder goes off the deep end. Here's a brief clip.

Persona (1966) The granddaddy of existential terror, this masterpiece from Ingmar Bergman demands complete immersion, and viewers who commit themselves to this darkly poetic tale of two women who blend identities are rewarded with a dreamlike procession of alarming images. Bergman manipulates the film medium, draws attention to it, insists that we are always aware that we are watching a film. The pre-credit and credit sequence engage the mind and disturb the receptive viewer with indescribable horror. To those who discover this film today, this opening sequence is still discussed and argued about. You may not believe what you are seeing.

The Elephant Man (1980) perhaps the most accessible film from David Lynch until he directed "The Straight Story", was his forst foray into big-studio filmmaking. It was a triumph of mood and atmosphere. It is not based on the play of the same name, but rather on well-known biographical works about John Merrick, a monstrously deformed man who charmed his way into polite society with the help of a sympathetic doctor. Lynch uses the conventions of black-and-white gothic horror movies to depict the fear and ignorance of a society struggling to adjust to an industrial world. Lynch subverts our expectations of the genre to find a tender tale of redemption amid the horror. The sound design is especially effective.

Eraserhead (1977) For those who prefer their Lynchian horrors more...well, Lynchian, here's the nightmarish, freakish debut that put him on the map. Impossible to describe without making it sound like slapstick comedy, the film moves with the relentless slow logic of a nightmare. "Eraserhead" blends such characters as a nerdy anxious father-to-be, his dysfunctional (understatement) family, a wailing, boil-covered baby with no skin on its body, a dreamy platinum blonde who lives in the radiator and squashes sperm-like creatures with her heel....and a head made into pencil erasers.... If you allow it to, it makes some sort of demented sense. Better yet, have an aperitif first...

Pan's Labyrinth (2006) Another eerie, gruesome tale about a young girl's maturity, this time from Spain. This film is structured like a fairy tale, but it is a very adult fairy tale indeed. Aside from the political horrors and torture, we are witness to the fantastic dreams and visions inside of a womb-like labyrinth, filled with threatening creatures and where blood flows freely. The pale monster with no face, and eyeballs in its palms (see photo at top) is the type of thing that has haunted my nightmares.

Glen or Glenda? (1953) The incomparable Ed Wood, responsible for such "masterpieces" as "Plan Nine From Outer Space", and whose life inspired a terrific movie with Johnny Depp and Oscar-winner Martin Landau, created one of his strangest pieces with "Glen or Glenda", a docu-horror-drama which treated transvestism, a taboo movie subject in the early 1950's. It's a biographic confessional: Ed Wood himself plays the male protagonist struggling with his sexual identity. 1930's horror staple Bela Lugosi appears as some kind of narrator. Lugosi, by then a drug-addicted has-been, plunged into the role with conviciton. This extended clip is a dream sequence, a real jaw-dropper, that might even be too idiotic for Halloween. Anyway, I love it....

Documentary Films Do Good--Let's Have "Motivation Stations" at the Occupy Locations

2011-10-30T16:48:00.005-05:00

Recently this journal expressed a fervent hope that the "Occupy Wall Street" movement, which has organized sites globally, would become "Too Big To Fail". (That's the phrase that justified the outlandish tax-funded bailouts of financial institutions that proceeded to lay off millions and then pay their executives large bonuses).

The "Occupy" groups seem to have coalesced around more articulate "demands". But now that the weather is becoming frigid and inhospitable, it would be nice if these protesters had something to keep them motivated.

I recently happened to catch both of the documentaries "Capitalism: A Love Story", and "Inside Job", running on our local cable stations. Both of these films exposed, for anyone who cared to look, the corruption that led to the financial crisis that has finally moved average people to demonstrate. Moore's film was especially prophetic.

The filmmakers and their studios, who have crafted important pieces of work that deserve, and need, to be seen, should be prevailed upon to make these films available for legal, free exhibition at the Occupy sites.

Set up what I would call "Motivation Stations". Put up tents filled with information about why the movement has begun, and yes, set up projectors, plasma TV's, laptop computers, anything that is handy, to run these films in continuous loops.

It was heartening to see Michael Moore show up at the Oakland site (click on this HuffPost link), and pay tribute to the Iraq War Veteran who was critically injured in the violent police action that sought to disperse the assembled demonstrators.

Moore, and Charles Ferguson, through their films, can be present at all the sites. Make the films available, for free. Make sure the Occupiers never forget why they are there, and motivate them to keep going.