Archive for August 2010
Theater Review: “In The Next Room or The Vibrator Play” @ Woolly Mammoth
Mid-way through Sarah Ruhl’s In the Next Room or The Vibrator Play, now running at the Wooly Mammoth Theatre Company, two characters discuss electricity’s potential to revolutionize society. They live in the late nineteenth century, when light bulbs were still in their infancy, and speculate electricity might illuminate entire cities, or allow future generations to hear recordings of their ancestors. It’s funny, then, that the only other electric device seen on stage is a vibrator parading as a medical instrument. With a modern take on a bygone era, Ruhl’s orgasmic comedy focuses on antiquiated sexual mores, and the emotional turmoil it causes members of either sex. Moans and screams earn big laughs, and an emotional undercurrent pares away misguided attitudes toward intimacy and love.
Dr. Givings (Eric Hissom) is a physician who thinks he’s perfected the treatment for female hysteria. In the operating theater of his home, he stimulates “lower areas” with the help of Annie (Sarah Marshall) and his titular instrument. His latest patient is Mrs. Daldry (Kimberly Gilbert), who is sensitive to light and temperature. Mr. Daldry (James Konicek) is at his wit’s end, though Dr. Givings’ wife Catherine (Katie deBuys) offers some comfort. The Doctor devotes more attention to his patients than his spouse, so the bubbly Catherine grows more dissatisfied. Making matters worse, her breasts produce inadequate milk for her infant daughter. Later Catherine hires Mrs. Daldry’s housemaid Elizabeth (Jessica Frances Dukes) to be her wet-nurse (Elizabeth recently lost her baby). Catherine become increasingly curious about her husband’s treatment, meanwhile Leo the artist (Cody Nickell) finds himself on the business end of a prostrate-stimulator. The lines between pleasure and infatuation blur, and soon all the characters are in the midst of an emotional tailspin.
The play’s biggest laughs occur as Dr. Givings applies his treatment, and unlike many onstage comedies, passages without dialogue are as rewarding as a well-placed one-liner. Set designer Daniel Conway does did not create a literal wall between the drawing room and the operating theater. A meager door separates the two areas, so while Catherine dutifully sits as Dr. Givings uses the vibrator, the actors share a close space. It is ironic Catherine must remain sexually frustrated while her husband gives other women pleasure, and the situations get more bizarre as the play continues. Dr. Givings’ use of the vibrator on his wife does not go as planned, and Mrs. Daldry develops affection for Annie (the nurse resorts to a manual treatment when the power goes out). Hijinks and sexual pleasure define the first act, and their weighty repercussions define the second. Catherine finally gets the courage to articulate her yearnings, and while her bold approach has its risks, it is easy to empathize with her dissatisfaction.
Anyone who has seen When Harry Met Sally is familiar with the comic potential for orgasmic moans, but in The Vibrator Play, the context adds more complexity in which the actors can work. Eric Hissom’s deadpan face during the treatments are a highlight – shortly after he first turns on the buzzing and reaches between Mrs. Daldry’s legs, he follows with a conversational line that caused an eruption of laughter. The other male characters, Mr. Daldry and Leo, are static embodiments of familiar nineteenth century characters (i.e. the upright businessman and the emotive artist). Nickell and Konicek make the best of less meaty roles with ample presence, energy, and exaggerated accents. As Annie and Mrs. Daldry, Marshall and Gilbert convey complex emotions through language that’s both coded and strangely direct (Annie’s matter-of-fact discussion of bodily fluids is a pleasant running gag).
High concept sex jokes would be nothing without character development, and in this capacity deBuys and Dukes shine as Catherine and Elizabeth, respectively. DeBuys speaks in a cadence similar to Alison Brie, aka Trudy from Mad Men, and like Trudy, her high-volume energy instantly communicates buried sadness. As the play continues and Catherine becomes more outspoken, deBuys convincingly transforms from a dutiful wife into Dr. Givings’ equal. Dukes is less stage time, but her plainspoken language is a welcome antidote to the affectations of the other characters. Catherine’s thoughtless discussion of Elizabeth’s dead son is the subject of uneasy humor as the play begins, but the growth of both characters culminates in a direct conversation in which both women learn about each other and themselves.
Amidst the sexual humor and top-notch acting, Ruhl’s dialogue is bizarre yet accessible, symbolic yet direct. Every character is given their moment in the sun and a unique manner of speaking. Discussions of electricity become the metaphor for the missed connections amongst them. The gap between what’s spoken and felt is apparent from the first scenes, so if The Vibrator Play has any weakness, it’s that the second act stretches longer than it should. Yes, every character has a complete arc, but not all of them require a tidy resolution. The ethereal, high-concept last scene lingers too long after its climax, and it feels as if the playwright had trouble finding the appropriate final note. Still, these gripes are minor when you consider its successes. Modern costume comedies are rare, and genuinely funny ones are rarer still. Like the characters’ language, much has changed since the vibrator was used for medical purposes, but the play’s timeless insights with leave audiences abuzz with conversation.
In the Next Room or The Vibrator Play is playing at The Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company through September 19th. Buy tickets here!
Review: “Soul Kitchen.”
Fatih Akin’s Soul Kitchen is messy, good-natured, and eager to please. Unlike Mostly Martha, Germany’s other restaurant comedy with art-house potential, Akin populates his kitchen with flawed, bizarrely offbeat personalities. There are times when the energy flattens, but Akin and co-writer Adam Bousdoukos redeem the slow moments exasperated performances and jokes that do not dwell on their punch lines. There is also ample assistance from a soundtrack that memorably combines classic soul and European techno. Amidst the broad humor and lovingly-filmed food, there is even insight into how a mediocre restaurant can transform overnight.
Zinos (Adam Bousdoukos), a German/Greek restaurateur, is having trouble with Soul Kitchen, his dive that caters to cholesterol-loving sad sacks. His personal life is also in shambles. Girlfriend Nadine (Pheline Roggan) left Germany for a gig in China, and Zinos’ partially paroled brother Illias (Moritz Bleibtreu) is a shameless mooch. The Health and Tax departments pay Zinos a visit shortly after he encounters Thomas (Wotan Wilke Möhring), a conniving grade school classmate. Newfound back problems only make matters worse, though Zinos’ takes a liking to Anna the chiropractor (Dorka Gryllus). Amidst the nonstop pain, Zinos sees hope in Shayn (Birol Ünel), an independently-minded chef who doesn’t mind telling customers their taste is rubbish. The restaurant takes a dramatic turn once Shayn prepares flavorful dishes and a hip dance school moves next door, but the carefree vibe is too good to last. After Zinos resolves to visit China, he grants power of attorney to Illia, and this decision may have disastrous consequences.
Screwball comedy is a genre many directors attempt but few achieve. Usually the problem is one of restraint, for as bad SNL movies remind us, excessive silliness will desensitize audiences. Soul Kitchen sidesteps such concerns with well-drawn personalities and distinctly European attitude. When Shayn hurls carving knives around his kitchen, it makes sense because it’s precisely the way such chef would behave. The same logic applies when Illias resorts to petty theft after an insult from a dance club DJ (Illias is astute enough to catch references to Dumas, which would be out-of-character for an American prisoner). As the most memorable characters, Ünel and Bleibtreu are the most fun to watch. Neither Shayn nor Illias fit into a restaurant setting, so it’s rewarding to see Zinos vainly attempt to rein them in. With a stocky frame and long hair, Bousdoukos’ Zinos is the right audience conduit. Even when he experiences an awkward erection, his “aw shucks” attitude save him from becoming skeezy. Still, Zinos is likable mainly because he’s quick to embrace the flaws in others. His affability is an asset when the perfect storm of Shayn, musicians, and dancers transform the restaurant into the town’s best hotspot. Tyrannical he may be, but Shayn confidently internalizes the notion that great food and catchy tunes have more staying power than boring locals who crave deep-fried-everything.
Raised in Germany with Turkish parents, Fatih Akin is best known for globetrotting dramas. Head-On (starring Ünel) examines the societal constraints of Turks in Germany, and The Edge of Heaven is a cross-cutting narrative about how decent people struggle to make genuine connections. After two relatively grave features, it’s interesting Akin follows up with something carefree. Then again, his themes of modernity and tolerance are also on display here, albeit in a more lighthearted way. I certainly don’t begrudge Akin’s comedic turn. Like him, I find that when dramas grow tiresome, and a jolt of Curtis Mayfield is better than any deep epiphany.
Review: “The Expendables.”
Proud parent that he is, my dad will occasionally ask me to update him on recent movies I’ve seen. Whenever I mention one with art-house appeal, Dad feigns disinterest and asks, “Yeah, but is there any violent gore?” The joke is my dad was formative in my early movie-going years, particularly since he introduced me to brainless action spectacle. I start my review of Sylvester Stallone’s The Expendables with a bit of nostalgia because it harkens back to a simpler time, a time where audiences required little more than muscles, explosions, and viscera. Longtime fans of old school action will feel right at home, but those who don’t remember Cobra fondly may find the excessive mayhem tedious.
The plot is so by-the-numbers it almost inspires me to create a form for subsequent reviews of movies like this. Stallone plays Barney, the gruff leader with a heart of gold, who leads his titular team through globe-trotting black-ops. Lee Christmas (Jason Statham), who specializes in deadly blades, is Barney’s second in command. Rounding out the team are Jet Li the martial arts expert, Randy Couture the wrestler, and Terry Crews the explosions-loving madman. After a mission goes south, Barney expels Gunner (Dolph Lundgren), a Scandinavian behemoth with a bad attitude. Now Barney’s mysterious tattooed leader (Mickey Rourke) send the Expendables to a made-up South American island, where an evil general (David Zayas) rules with an iron fist. He’s helped by a sleazy disavowed CIA agent (Eric Roberts), who sees opportunity in the island’s poppy fields. Barney and his team meet a beautiful revolutionary (Giselle Itié), who is the general’s son. Hot babe in tow, the badass Americans liberate the island the only way they know how: with a salvo of gunfire and unnecessary explosions.
Tight plotting has never been Stallone’s strong suit, so let’s instead focus on the violence and subsequent one-liners. This brand of action focuses on incident more than set-pieces. Long-form chase sequences, for example, are secondary to the immediacy of quick kills. It is in this regard The Expendables excels. Stallone sates the basest bloodlust as the expendables dispatch hoards of costumed baddies in the most creatively badass way possible. Terry Crews’ character quickly became a favorite, as his remote-detonated bombs served no strategic purpose whatsoever. Statham is the easiest to take seriously – his cockney delivery is a mainstay of recent action movies, and his scenes are quietly confident*. It’s no surprise the movie nearly grinds to a halt when Stallone has character-building moments for his cast. In an extended monologue, Rourke almost gives his character genuine pathos, but the beats of his speech are all too familiar. Stallone is not known for his way with words, so he wisely has Barney speak in simple sentences (the character’s one-liners barely make sense, and frequently elicit laughter). The only memorable non-action scene is a much-touted cameo, in which former Planet Hollywood owners mock each other’s aging physiques.
In its own frenzied way, The Expendables is innocent and, really, kind of sweet. Its ambitions are small, and it seeks to entertain in a nostalgically familiar way. Unlike the complex motivations of recent action blockbusters, the line between good and evil is always clear. Hell, the innumerable bad guys wear costumes so cheesy they’d be embarrassing in an 8-bit video game. Indeed, Stallone adds enough absurdity to let us know that he, too, is on the joke. I’m not sure whether he intended The Expendables to be his swansong, yet I cannot think of more appropriate way to end his tenure as an action star. More than The Losers, here is a movie that appeals to the violence-loving preteen in all of us.
Review: “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.”
Review: Alan Zilberman
Comic: Illustrated by Evan Keeling, written by Keeling and Zilberman
Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is the perfect movie for indie-rock loving video game enthusiasts, particularly the lovelorn ones. With references to Zelda and canonized Pitchfork bands, there is plenty for geeks to admire. But if you’re not a geek, rest assured Wright and his team crafted a unique visual wonder, one that uses pop culture as a metaphor for post-college growing pains. After so many movies in which he essentially played the same character (Scott included), there is potential for Michael Cera overkill. Thankfully Wright successfully sidesteps Cera ubiquity with a pastiche of solid supporting characters, as well as a moving emotional arc. The pacing and manic energy sometimes deflate, but when SPvtW is working, it is peerless.
Scott Pilgrim (Cera), bassist for upcoming Toronto band Sex Bom-Omb, is dating 17 year old Knives (Ellen Wong). The new girl does not thrill band mates Stephen (Mark Webber) and Kim (Alison Pill), who worry she might become a distraction. Later Scott meets Ramona (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), the quite-literal girl of his dreams, and begins an awkward courtship. For reasons left unanswered, she seems to like the guy, so they begin to date (Scott carelessly dispatches Knives soon after). Scott forgets to check his e-mail, so it comes as a surprise when Matthew Patel (Satya Bhabha), the first of Ramona’s seven evil exes, challenges Scott to a deathmatch. Scott Ably defeats his opponent with Tekken-inspired combat-fu, but he’s just the beginning. Soon a Hollywood A-lister (Chris Evans) and a vegan-powered psychic (Brandon Routh) come to kick Scott’s scrawny ass. None of the evil exes, however, are as dastardly as Gideon (Jason Schwartzman) the record exec. Amidst these brawls, Scott must figure out how to woo the elusive Ramona, even as Knives becomes insane with jealousy. Does Scott have the grapes to defeat Gideon AND win the Battle of the Bands? Maybe if he gets a life first.
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World first began as a six-volume graphic novel, and Wright preserved much of its punchy aesthetic. Artfully-rendered onomatopoeia streaks across the screen as characters get pummeled, declare love, and rock the fuck out. The fight scenes are at their best when they’re batshit insane, like when there is a indie monster avatar battle (you’ll understand when you see it). Still, Wright is at his most inventive when he imagines the screen as Scott’s videogame HUD. Such add-ons would be tedious if Wright and co-screenwriter Michael Bacall hadn’t focused on the human element, so it’s a relief they preserved the supporting cast and their pleasant quirks. Kieran Culkin shines as Wallace, Scott’s droll, gay roommate. Another highlight is the criminally underrated Alison Pill, whose deadpan sarcasm suits Scott’s propensity for whimsy. Come to think of it, there are so many characters and sub-plots it’s a wonder Wright and Bacall condensed six volumes this well. Each of the seven evil exes have their moment in the sun, but Routh is most memorable as the vegan mimbo (his big scene also features a pleasant cameo). The concept of evil exes never makes much sense, so Scott and Ramona are the movie’s center. They both learn well-worn life lessons, and their romantic trials will be familiar to anyone who has gone on a date this decade. Lots of romantic comedies deal with relationships in an unrealistic way; like 500 Days of Summer last year, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World exaggerates its universe to reflect the characters’ genuine heartbreak and triumph.
The structure and subsequent payoff to Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is similar to that of a video game. Once the player/viewer gets the gist and eagerly gets past a few levels/exes, it starts to get a little too familiar. No matter how colorful and action-packed the fight scenes might be, they sag once a modicum of repetition enters. Put another way, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is damn good, but if Wright had cut another 10-15 minutes, it would be damn GREAT. Don’t let my minor grievance deter you – the near-nonstop visual wit pushed me through the infrequent moments of tedium. Like the hero himself, here is a movie I’m eager to love in spite of its flaws.
Interview: Todd Solondz
For fifteen years, writer/director Todd Solondz has been challenging audiences with his offbeat, dark comedies. Welcome to the Dollhouse took a hard, unapologetic look at adolescent cruelty. His follow-up was Happiness, a cross-cutting narrative that unflinchingly examined suburban ugliness. There is humor even amidst themes of pedophilia, suicide, abortion, and racism. His characters have a way of speaking in blunt, arresting language. Their harsh vocabulary never insists upon itself, yet it usually leaves an indelible memory. His work may not be for everyone, but braver moviegoers find his work thought-provoking and bizarre.
Solondz’s latest is Life During Wartime, a direct sequel to Happiness. Unlike most traditional sequels, the director replaced his cast with entirely new actors. For example, Jon Lovitz’s role is now played by Paul Reubens, Dylan Baker’s role is now played by Ciarán Hinds, and Philip Seymour Hoffman’s role is now played by Michael K. Williams. I had a chance to speak with Solondz about his latest work. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he sounds like a character from his movies: awkward and sad, but capable of genuine warmth.
AZ: Why did you choose to film a sequel to Happiness with a different cast?
TS: I don’t think I would’ve wanted to make a movie any other way. [A new cast] makes it all so much more interesting. With them, I have different colors, shapes, meanings that I wouldn’t have otherwise. Paul Reubens, for example, is a comedic actor like Jon Lovitz, but [Reuben]’s history makes the character’s story so much more sorrowful and poignant. I loved Dylan Baker so much [as Bill], but this time I wanted someone with more gravitas, someone who would appear like a shallow husk. Cirian Hinds was more suitable – I couldn’t achieve what I wanted with Dylan in the same way. I wanted Michael Kenneth Williams because I didn’t want anyone who would be reminiscent of Philip Seymour Hoffman. With new actors, meaning can shift and it can all be much more compelling.
It’s interesting that among the cast, Michael K. Williams is the only one who is a different race than his predecessor.
I had never imagined an actor like him for the role of Allen. When he came in for auditions, I was surprised by how powerful he was (I had never seen The Wire, so I didn’t know about Omar). I decided the rewrite the part to suit his particular qualities. He said to me, “You know, Todd, I’m not funny.” So I replied, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it for you.”
Life During Wartime has lots of bright colors. How did you intend the imagery to interact with such dark subject matter?
We shot most of the movie in Puerto Rico, so it was difficult to recreate south Florida. Edward Lachman was my cinematographer, and he really is an artist. He was able to achieve something quite beautiful by evoking a mythical place with a distinctive palette. But when you talk about “the look,” so much of that depends on location, what you find, and what it elicits. But because the [screenplay] was so charged, there was a level of restraint among the rich colors. Actually, this is hard to articulate. I think the word I used was “generica” because in south Florida, there is a meticulous, manicured quality to the shopping centers there.
What made you and Lachman decide to shoot in Puerto Rico?
We didn’t decide. It was the producers’ decision – we went there for the tax incentives.
Timmy is another entry in a long list of memorable child roles you’ve written. Was it difficult casting this role?
Oh, yes, it’s always difficult finding a gifted child actor. The complication with children is the delicate material – you have to enlist parents that are both supportive and approving of the project. That way the entire family can take pride in what the child accomplishes.
Do you spend a lot of time talking with the families of your young actors?
It depends on the parents. The mother of Dylan Riley Snyder, who played Timmy, was extremely enthusiastic about the script. I never want to persuade parents, so it was good she wanted Dylan to become a part of my team.
Do the kids themselves have trouble grasping the delicacies of your script?
I never really discuss anything of any sexual nature with the children. That’s for the parents to decide, it’s not my role. My role is to simply make the child comfortable so that he can connect emotionally to the script. Dylan had this beautiful innocence – I tried to protect it by staying true to the integrity of his character.
What do you think about the current state of independent film?
We are in bleak times, but one must be hopeful there’s a solution to the economic turmoil we find ourselves in. There’s a red flag when studios are putting out more movies in 3D – it’s a sign of increased desperation. Maybe they’ll be some new paradigm that’ll make things more economically viable for the non-studio filmmaker, who is the most vulnerable in times like these.
Wikipedia tells me you’re an adjunct professor at NYU. How is that going?
I’m full-time.
Oh, my mistake!
No, that’s fine. I love teaching. It gives me security, and I get immense joy out of teaching young graduate students.
Those are all the questions I had. It’s been a real treat to talk with you!
Oh, it was a pleasure! I hope you have enough for a story, and wish you the best of luck.
Another Movie Blogger? 