Review: "Into the Woods"

Adapting stage musicals into films is very tricky in the 21st Century. If one thing doesn't work, the whole thing falls apart. For every Chicago there's a Nine or Rock of Ages. Even Les Miserables, the biggest stage musical in the world, didn't really work on film; it's theatricality lost in closeup after closeup. And don't get me started about the last time someone adapted Sondheim for the screen. The less said about Tim Burton's grim and humorless version of Sweeney Todd, the better. So I went to see Into the Woods with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. Yes, director Rob Marshall made the amazing Chicago but he also made the very-less-than-amazing Nine. I was encouraged by the trailers and knew I had to see it (I adore the show). So tonight, I met a Facebook friend for first time IRL (Hey, Michele!) and went to the 7:15 at an AMC I usually avoid, because it was central to both of us.

Let me start by saying that if nothing else (and there is plenty else), Into the Woods is a truly gorgeous movie to look at. It's almost like the first time you're old enough to realize that The Wizard of Oz goes from sepia to full color. Even though the majority of the action takes place at night, it's just stunning to look at. Director Rob Marshall assembled an amazing artistic team which includes his go-to cinematographer Dion Beebe who works wonders and costumer Coleen Atwood whose gorgeous pieces are truly magical. James Lapine's screenplay (based on his original libretto) does a nice job paring the show down to just over 2 hours without losing any of its emotional impact though the very amusing character of the Narrator is reduced to a few minutes of voice-over. If you aren't familiar, Into the Woods is about what happens after 'Happily Ever After' and combines the stories Jack & the Beanstalk; Cinderella; Rapunzel and Little Red Riding Hood by introducing us to a childless Baker and his Wife. When a witch bursts in and offers them a way to lift the curse that has kept them childless, everyone is off and running.

For the most part, the casting is perfect. Anna Kendrick uses her fine voice at its best as Cinderella and though new to American audiences, adorable Brit James Cordon is terrific as The Baker.* Daniel Huttlestone's Jack sounds exactly like his Gavroche and Lilla Crawford, making her feature debut, is perfect for this version of Red. The most surprising voice belongs to Chris Pine as Cinderella's Prince, whose sweet tenor in the duet "Agony" with Billy Magnussen as Rapunzel's Prince is lovely in a brilliantly staged scene amidst a rocky waterfall. There are also some really terrific supporting performances by Tracey Ullman as Jack's Mother; Christine Baranski as Stepmother; Lucy Punch and Tammy Blanchard as the step-sisters and screen legend Frances de la Tour as The Giant. Happily, Johnny Depp has only one number and few minutes of screen time as the Wolf. The man should never be allowed to sing on screen again. The truly overt sexual overtones of "Hello, Little Girl" were watered down, I imagine because of Crawford's age - Red is usually played by an adult and the Wolf's choreography, makeup and costuming are more suggestive on stage - though the lyrics weren't changed.

But I quibble, because all of them are simply outshone by Emily Blunt as The Baker's Wife and Meryl Streep as the Witch. In the original Broadway production, these roles were played by Theatre Legends Joanna Gleason and Bernadette Peters. They were iconic, indeed signature, performances. Happily, Blunt is more than up to the task as the story's most sympathetic character, with a sweet singing voice and total commitment to the role. Streep, of course, is always amazing and she takes the part and makes it her own. Her rendition of "Stay with Me" actually made me cry.

If you don't know the show, Rob Marshall's excellent adaptation is a good place to start. If you know and love the show as I do, then I think you'll be very pleased by it. Finally, film justice for Stephen Sondheim! A perfect Holiday Movie for Families and Musical Theatre Geeks alike! **** (Four Out Four Stars). Into the Woods is rated PG for "thematic elements, fantasy action and peril, and some suggestive material."

*Corden will soon be taking over for the departing Craig Ferguson on the "The Late, Late Show." 

More, anon.
Prospero

Retro Review: "Frozen"

Okay - since it's been so long and everyone else in the world but M and I have already seen it, I will not be giving any spoiler warnings in this review. And you also need to know that Uncle P is a formerly voracious reader...

The weather this holiday weekend has been exceptionally spectacular in Bucks, and we have enjoyed a sunny, low humidity and comfortably temperate 3  days. Now that Dear D has installed the new bannister in Uncle P's house, more progress can be made towards what will undoubtedly be a post in the near future. I promise. 

Anyway, on Friday I watched TV and grilled some dogs. It was a holiday and I wasn't going to waste it on chores (though I did so a small load of laundry, to be ahead for  the rest of the weekend). Yesterday I dusted, cleaned Skye's cage; ran my amazing new Samsung vacuum and almost completed hanging shelves and a few art pieces (really, only minor adjustments are needed). I had also planned to take myself to see M's celebrity look-alike in "Deliver Us from Evil" sometime over the weekend. But the weather on Saturday, while breezy, just made me want to sit out side and finish the novel ("Dr. Sleep" by Stephen King - his brilliant 35-years-later sequel to "The Shining") I am almost embarrassed to admit took me 6 months to read. I used to read at least two or three novels a week.The first time I read "Carrie," I read it in a single afternoon.  Now I'm lucky if I read one or two a year. I blame the Internet. But none of that has anything to do with M calling me up to invite me to his house for dinner. Had I gone to the movies, I would have missed his call and eventually the chance to see Frozen with someone else who had never seen it.

So- Elsa and Anna are princesses in a mythical Nordic country and Elsa is born with magical powers over snow and ice. While playing, Elsa accidentally hurts Anna and their parents take Anna to the trolls, who magically erase all memories of Elsa's powers from her mind. To avoid further accidents, it is decided that Elsa must avoid Anna at all cost. Years later, as Elsa ascends the the thrown, Anna unwittingly releases the powers that Elsa has so long tried to hide, turning the country's citizens against her for sorcery. Very loosely based on Hans Christian Andersen's story "The Snow Queen," Frozen is almost disturbingly rife with Disney Princess tropes, despite every obvious effort to avoid them. That's not saying that Frozen is bad. Far from it. It was gorgeous on a 60" flat-screen TV. I can imagine how much more so on a giant movie screen. The digital imagery is nothing less than gorgeous. And I totally get why Jennifer Lee made the changes to Andersen's original (Hell - the Little Mermaid kills herself at the end of his version). I just wish she hadn't done so, so predictably. There is hardly a single surprise in the plot, but it's a flaw most critics seemed to have ignored.

Beside the often stunning artwork, the voice performances are rather amazing, with some very catchy tunes from Christophe Beck (who I must assume wrote the often clever lyrics, since IMDb doesn't credit anyone for them). While no one can belt out an "I'm Coming Out" show-stopper anthem like Idina Menzel does with the ubiquitous "Let It Go," this is Kristen Bell's, Josh Gad's and openly gay  Jonathan Groff's movie, all the way. They are all joined by some of my personal personal favorites, including Alan Tudyk (whom M identified before I could); Edie McClurg (a favorite of my sister's and mine since Letterman's daytime show) and "Futurama" star Maurice LaMarche, 

Yes, yes. I get why "Let It Go" has become a sort of gay-anthem. And now I understand why the so-called 'Christian Right' have reacted the same way they did to Harry Potter, but Frozen is undoubtedly the best CGI film out of Disney Studios to date, despite having a "let's-throw-everything-up-on-the-wall-and-see-what-stcks" screenplay. *** (Three out of Four Stars).

More, anon.
Prosepro

The Most Egregious Thing You'll See This Week

I was a sophomore in High School when Annie made it's Broadway debut (look it up and do the math). The comic-strip on which the musical was based debuted in 1933 and was still in syndication when the musical first arrived on the Great White Way. It's ubiquitous anthem "Tomorrow" is one the late 20th Century's most recognizable songs and without it, we wouldn't have Sarah Jessica Parker.  The show has had two revivals, one in 1997 and another in 2012. It was made into a not terrible movie in 1982, starring a local gal with whom my mother shared 1 degree of separation, Aileen Quinn (Mom worked with Aileen's mother back in her Playground Monitor days). Carol Burnett and Tim Curry were the villains in director John Huston's fairly faithful version.

News of a new version slated to star Willa Smith arose about three years ago. Last year it was announced that Smith was out, replaced by Beasts of the Southern Wild Oscar-nominee Quvenzhané Wallis.All seemed well and good until we found out that Cameron Diaz (Bad Teacher) and Jaimie Foxx (Ray) were slated to play Miss Hannigan and the updated version of Daddy Warbucks, Benjamin Stacks (get it? -- ugh!). Okay. Fine. Maybe an update is in order. Urban orphans are certainly VERY different today from those of the Great Depression. I have no problem with making older works relevant to modern audiences. I've set both Much Ado About Nothing and Romeo and Juliet in the 20th Century. A timeless story is just that, right?

Wrong.

Look at this trailer for the 2014 Annie and tell me it doesn't make you want to pull your hair out by the roots.

UGH! It's everything I hate about the treacly original show, combined with every unoriginal thought put to paper by modern, corporate filmmakers. Directed by Will Gluck (best known for teen sex comedies like Easy A), this shameless POS is a perfect example of everything wrong with Hollywood and the U.S. film industry today. The trailer makes it clear that this movie will undoubtedly be the miserable flop that it is destined (and deserves) to be.

More, anon.

Prospero

PS - A special thanks to my friend Sally, who first shared that clip.

Last Words on this Topic

Okay, so maybe I was a bit premature. But I did say I'd post if something came up. And something actually has sort of blown up all over social media and I couldn't express everything I had to say about it in short bursts and comments on other people's timelines.

I'm sure you have figured out what I'm going to talk about from the the GrumpyCat meme pic I've posted to your right.

Uncle P's first experience seeing The Sound of Music was at a drive-in with Mom and my sister. I don't remember how old I was. It was certainly before the VHS boom of the late-70's and popular movies were often re-released to theatres many years after their initial runs. Mom thought we'd like it, so off the three of us went. That's almost all I really remember about it. I think I liked it. I do remember Mom telling us about a friend of hers who had left after the wedding scene (long movies often had intermissions) because she thought it was over. And unlike Mary Poppins,* it didn't make my sister cry because Mary left the Banks children. It undoubtedly had an influence on me. I have sung 'Edelweiss' for more auditions than almost any other song. And yes, it's old-school, Rogers and Hammerstein cheese. In fact, one of their cheesiest. But the film is a classic for so many reasons, Ms. Andrews' and Mr. Plummer's performances among the least of them. There is Robert Wise's amazing direction; the stunning scenery and photography; gorgeous period costumes and a score filled with songs that literally everyone in the Western world recognizes, if not knows the lyrics to. The movie is so beloved, that President Reagan rather infamously retreated from a G7 Summit which he was hosting, in order to watch it on TV.

You obviously think you know where this is going, but bear with me.

NBC presented an adaptation of the stage version of the show (in which Broadway legend Mary Martin originated the role of Maria) last Thursday. Twitter, Facebook and the blogosphere in general exploded with both negative and positive reviews, comments and what one of my Facebook friends called a "Snarknado." To be honest, I had no intention of watching it. Don't get me wrong - I've performed in my fair share of R&H shows - they are staples of high school and community theatre. I played Emile in South Pacific my senior year in high school. But give me Sondheim; Schwartz; Kander & Ebb; Rado & Ragni or Parker & Stone, anytime. Especially when it comes to a show like The Sound of Music, which is far better suited for the screen than the stage.

The night it aired, I caught about a total of 30 minutes or so, starting with "My Favorite Things." Not wanting to gawk at the the train wreck, I caught subsequent sections while moving between programs I had DVR'd earlier in the week. I witnessed unsuppressed accents; breathy singing; some really bad acting and even worse dialogue; anachronistic costumes and some pretty crappy sets.

What I did not see, was a Musical Theatre production. There was no live audience; no pauses for applause or laughter; no energy reflected back to cast to inspire them. I saw a talented singer with no acting experience thrust into an iconic role which she had no business playing. I saw some amazing actors left adrift and others taking command. And then there was Audra McDonald's stunning rendition of "Climb Every Mountain:"

Yes, so many of my theatre friends want to tout "The Sound of Music Live!" as an introduction to and inspiration for young theatre enthusiasts. And yes, it's wonderful that TV wants to bring us live performances (something NBC already does on SNL). But if you want to bring live theatre to the masses, then really shell out the bucks give them today's live theatre. I would have been glued to a live performance of Wicked or Pippin. Instead, NBC chose a 'safe' musical, did some stunt-casting and hoped Ms Underwood's fans would tune in, And while the ratings were pretty good, the criticism was less than kind, even among mainstream media. Time Magazine's review had this to say: 

"When Carrie Underwood stepped out on the (wooded, not grassy) hills and started singing, I wished the hills were alive with the sound of hungry mountain lions." Ouch!

Trust me, NO ONE believes more in the power of the Performing Arts than Uncle P.  While a poorly produced and woefully miscast production from a rag-tag company in a Podunk town may be perfectly acceptable and delightful, we expect and deserve more from a multimillion dollar production on a major TV network. 

*Speaking of Mary Poppins, I think if I only see one Holiday movie this year (though I hope to see a few), it has to be Saving Mr. Banks:

And in case you're wondering how all of this ties together, please remember that Julie Andrews won her only Oscar for playing... Mary Poppins. My dear dancer friend 'Lizard' and I were lucky enough to see her live in the Broadway production of Victor/Victoria and while she didn't quite have the range for which she was once so renowned, her stage presence alone was enough to make for an unforgettable theatrical event. That, my friends, is why so many of us hated "The Sound of Music Live!" and it's many missed opportunities.

I truly hope this isn't the last time we see such a grand experiment. I just hope it's done right, next time.

Rant over. Break starts now. Really. Unless some other idiotic thing gets stuck in my craw.  << sigh >>

More, anon (I suppose I have to go back that now, too).

Prospero

Everything That's Wrong (And a Little Bit Right) with Broadway Today

Esther Hannaford and friend in King Kong Live

Ever since Rogers and Hammerstein created the first true 'book musical' (Oklahoma!) in 1946, the genre has been about telling stories with songs and dances which actually advanced the plot. Over the years, there have been many innovations to and variations of that concept. Personally, I find most musicals written before 1967 to be colossal bores; dated, silly, naive and supremely indicative of the times in which they were written (I said 'most,' not 'all' - there are exceptions to every rule, even mine). 

In 1967, Rado and Ragni's Tribal Rock musical Hair changed everything. Musicals (despite R&H's anti-racist South Pacific) became socially relevant. Their stories and songs did more than entertain, providing avenues of social comment and discourse. The 70's brought us shows like Pippin; A Little Night Music; Chicago; A Chorus Line and Working. Broadway finally had something to say. The 80's continued the trend with Evita, Les Miserables and Miss Saigon. They also brought us the show that would start the trend of musical spectacles, the amazingly still-running Andrew Lloyd-Weber version of Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera. A falling chandelier; a mechanical elephant and grand staircase filled with outrageously costumed characters started the trend of the Broadway Spectacle. Of course, in the 90's Disney invaded Broadway with director Julie Taymor's wildly successful production of The Lion King and there's been no going back. Ever since, Broadway musicals have gotten more and more elaborate, requiring more spectacle, more effects and bigger stunts. Stephen Schwartz's hilarious 2003 Steampunk adaptation of Gregory Maguire's novel Wicked sealed the deal and the shows have gotten bigger and more outrageous ever since. See Taymor's ridiculous Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark or Chitty Chitty Bang Bang for prime examples of modern Broadway's excess.

In development for over five years, the new musical King Kong Live saw its world premiere in Melbourne last month and from all accounts, the show is a quantifiable hit, extending it's initial limited run Down Under through August. Featuring an 18 feet + tall gorilla puppet and a decidedly anachronistic score (you can listen to parts of some of the songs here), King Kong Live is slated for Broadway sometime in 2014/15. 

I get it. Tech-savvy 21st Century audiences expect more for their theatre dollars. If I'm spending $110 or more for a ticket, I want to be wowed too. But where does it end? Transformers The Musical? Ironman Sings? Godzilla!? The original 1933 King Kong may well be the movie that made me love movies, but will King Kong Live be the show that ends my love affair with the Broadway musical? I certainly hope not.

Wow! That's certainly impressive. And while I would love to see the show (assuming I can actually afford the ticket price), I am much more excited to see Neil Patrick Harris in the announced revival of Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

Broadway may well be 'The Great Invalid,' though spectacles like Kong and Spider-Man may well be the shows that price it out of reach for most folks. My advice to Broadway producers harkens back to that of Henry David Thoreau: Simplify. Audiences are expected to suspend their disbelief. They don't need 18 foot-tall puppets to do that, no matter how amazing they may be.

More, anon.
Prospero

Bizzaro Forgetten Gems: "Liquid Sky"

While visiting my usual haunts, I came across a video teaser (via) for a group (or song - not sure which) called Sparkles and Wine. I have no idea exactly why, but watching it sent me right me right back to the weirdness that was the 1980's and Russian director Slava Tsukerman's 1982 film Liquid Sky. Performance artist and model Margaret (Anne Carlisle) is addicted to heroin and sex. She has so much sex that aliens, who live on the endorphins produced by heroin and orgasms, land on the roof of the building across from her apartment in order to consume her many partners' (including male model Jimmy - also played by Carlisle) endorphins. Much mayhem ensues.

I saw this movie with my friend Deb (the mother of my godson) at the Ritz* in Philadelphia. We were both very into the music, fashion and "F*ck You" attitudes of the anti-mainstream, just like every other 20-something of the time. Loaded with time-lapse images, outre dialog and loads of folks on the fringe, Liquid Sky was (and is) very much a product of it's time.

Carlisle and Tsukerman went on to a few more projects, though neither has been heard from in the U.S. since the 90's and few (if any) of the rest of the cast has gone on to do anything significant. It may not exactly be brilliant, but Liquid Sky is certainly indicative of the anti-establishment movements of the 50's, 60's and 70's, simply replacing Beatniks and Hippies with Punks and New Wavers.

"Delicious, delicious. Oh, how boring."

More, anon.
Prospero

*Also where I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch for the first time.

Review: "Evil Dead"

Jane Levy in Evil Dead

In 1981, director Sam Raimi and his brother Ted put together a very low budget horror movie called The Evil Dead. The movie caused a bit of a sensation, despite its terrible acting and laughable effects (it also scared the crap out of Uncle P's sister). 1987's Evil Dead II wasn't so much a sequel as a deliberately funny re-make (think The Three Stooges meet The Exorcist). Raimi's last movie in the trilogy, 1992's Army of Darkness, was a full-out horror comedy, combined with a medieval fantasy. The movies made Bruce Campbell a cult star, legitimized Raimi as a director and even spawned an hilarious stage musical. All this from the simple story of five college friends who unwittingly unleash an evil force by reading from a human skin-bound book of spells. Rumors of a fourth movie have taunted fans for decades, but Raimi was busy making the original Spider-Man trilogy, the very under-appreciated Drag Me to Hell and this year's disappointing Oz the Great and Powerful. When it was announced that he would be producing (along with Campbell) a reboot, written and directed by Uruguayan director Fede Alvarez, fans were up arms. Today, Dear D and I saw the new version, and I'm happy to report that Alvarez and company (with a few exceptions) got most of it right.

Mia ("Suburgatory" star Jane Levy) is a drug addict trying to go cold turkey with the help of her brother David and their friends, who have chosen Mia and David's family cabin in the woods to seclude themselves while she goes through withdrawal. What they don't know is that the cabin was recently the site of a ritual to... well, the less said about that, the better. The performers of said ritual have left behind a dozen or so dead cats and a book wrapped in plastic and barbed wire. Unable to contain his curiosity, Eric (Lou Taylor Pucci), the scholar among the group, unwraps the book and reads aloud from it, opening the door for a terrible demonic entity which invades Mia and basically dooms them all.

Approaching the story as a full-out Horror movie mostly pays off for Alvarez, working from a script he wrote along with Rodo Sayagues and an uncredited Diablo Cody (Jennifer's Body). The four friends have vowed to keep Mia at the cabin, no matter how much she begs to go home. When she starts behaving strangely, they attribute it to withdrawal and ignore her pleas to leave. Of course, things quickly escalate and it is soon apparent that something is very wrong. The violence and gore escalate, with plenty of stabbing; gouging; shredding; dismemberment and enough blood to fill an Olympic pool (this isn't a movie for the faint of heart, kids). There are demonic voices, slamming doors and exploding mirrors; raping trees, scalding showers and more than a few homages to the original (Mia is first discovered sitting atop Ash's dilapidated car, for one). I was fine with all of it, until the movie went and used two truly ridiculous cliches that drive me crazy - SPOILERS AHEAD: Skip to the next paragraph to avoid them. Cliche #1: Nail guns cannot fire nails like a firearm! There is a safety catch on every nail gun ever made which makes this impossible. Cliche #2: Shooting a plastic gas can will never cause an explosion! Gasoline itself is flammable, but not explosive. Gasoline fumes are explosive, but require a flame or a spark to ignite them and neither can be achieved by shooting through a plastic container. I don't know why Hollywood continues to perpetrate these fallacies. They are insults to the audience's intelligence and they should go away forever (though I'm sure they won't). 

The actors in the new version are certainly better than in Raimi's original, with Levy going all-out to make Mia as different as possible from the character she plays on "Suburgatory." Shiloh Fernandez (Deadgirl: Red Riding Hood) is fine as David, Mia's conflicted brother. Pucci (Carriers); Jessica Lucas (Coverfield) and newcomer Elizabeth Blackmore are all more than competent in what must have been physically demanding roles. Alvarez's direction takes several cues from Raimi's original, including running shots through the woods and close-ups of painful-looking slicing and dicing. D and I both winced more than a few times at the imagined pain the characters were put through (not that she would, but my dear Q should avoid this one at all costs). Alvarez thankfully eschews CG imagery and opts for physical FX which far outshine Raimi's original efforts. All in all, I had a great time, though D was disappointed at the lack of camp. *** (Three Out of Four Stars). And fans of the original should stay for a special Easter Egg after the credits.

On a personal note, I was horrified to see a family bring a young boy who couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 to see this movie. Inappropriate on so many levels for such a young kid, I hope they are kept awake all night by the boy's nightmares. Evil Dead is rated a hard "R" for language and extreme gore, violence and horror. Anyone who brings a child to see it should be reported for abuse.

Oh - One more thing... why do filmmakers allow trailers to contain material which doesn't actually appear in the final cut? 

More, anon.
Prospero

Extended Winter Blahs

No Sh*t, Sherlock!

Normally, I despise Winter. And while this winter seems to want to hang on well past its welcome (an Ohio prosecutor has actually - though  satirically - indicted Punxatawny Phil, demanding the death penalty for Phil's 'deliberate misrepresentation of early spring'); there are a few things that made it more bearable than most (and one or two that made it a little worse). 

Let's start with what extra-sucked about this winter, so I can end on a high note, yes? First, though I deliberately chose to take most of this season off, I have done nothing theatrical since last June and have nothing lined up until October. Yes, I could use a break to concentrate on other artistic endeavors (and two dormant projects are well on their ways to revival and possible full fruition) but I still find myself jealous of my many of my friends who are (or have been) in some terrific shows, lately. And I worry that I'll get lazy and forget everything I've spent most of my life learning about acting and directing. I know it sounds silly, but the theatre folk among you know exactly what I mean. Of course, my mother's recent health issues and my increased involvement in her care have taken their toll. And I miss the Sun. We've had more gray days here in the East these past few months than I can remember. And as much as I hated spending 5 days without power and heat following Sandy, I know there are folks who had (and still have) it much worse than I.

Still, there were several things that kept this winter from being a complete disaster. First, I doubled up on my vitamin D supplement starting in late September and I can honestly say that it's made a difference. And as for those revived projects; I am very excited to see them in the hands of new collaborators, both of whom are very talented young men I am pleased to call 'Friend.'

Of course, the best thing that happened to Uncle P in a very long time was meeting T.  Being found both interesting and attractive does wonders for one's self-esteem. Last summer, I was telling friends I had given up on romance and had resigned myself to living a life of solitude. I don't know if it was the extra vitamin D or something else, but after Christmas I decided I wasn't going to settle for that and joined a few online dating sites. And along came T. And hope. T and I are still very new (and live an hour apart from one another) and I have no idea where it might lead (if anywhere), but it's nice to know I'm not done with romance, even if I'm older than dirt.

Now if it would only get warm and sunny already.

How does a movie so bad have such a great soundtrack? At least Peter Frampton was still adorable, though Aerosmith has the best number:

More, anon.
Prospero

Falling Mascots and Other Nonsense

So I bought myself a present today. I'm listening to it right now. In typical Musical Theatre geek fashion I broke down and bought the "Smash" Season 1 CD. Love it or hate it (I've embraced it's silly soap-opera look at the business and really love it), you can't deny how well done it is. I'm also a fan of composer Marc Shaiman (Hairspray), who writes the music for Bombshell, the fictional musical about Marilyn Munroe at the center of the show. I know there are loads of Katherine McPhee haters, but I have never seen "American Idol" and had no idea who she was before "Smash," and I kind of fell in love with her in this part. But it really is an ensemble and what a cast! Broadway, film and television veterans who all certainly understand the process. And they honestly do some much more interesting covers than "Glee" could hope to. I think the music is even better this season, and am looking forward to both the Season 2 and the complete Bombshell CDs.

Posting that "Mascot Fails" video last night had me seeking out more. Honestly, whenever I see one of these for the first time I end up curled up on the floor, convulsing in laughter. My buddy James is the same way. It's very specific for me, because it's not the falling mascot that makes me laugh but imagining the expression on the face of the poor confused and terrified schlub inside the costume, flailing helplessly as he goes down, all while the visible face continues to grin idiotically. Oh... just thinking about  han;,s,md;lamk;nrf'aknjjkabhdkghddp 

Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I did not have a stroke. I lost all control there, for a second, laughing. I mean seriously. It's terrible. Every time I see some poor loser on the side of the road in a giant hotdog or chicken costume, I silently wish "Fall! Please, oh please, oh please, please please, PLEASE fall down!" I did see a Quizno's Cup Guy get pushed by the wind once, but he managed to stay upright (needless to say, much to my disappointment). Jimmy and I dare you not to laugh at these:

Oh, man! That last one just about made me hyperventilate. It just gets worse and worse and the poor jerk's ass must have hurt for days! I have to give him (or her) credit, because I would've given up a long time before the blue chicken does.

Here's wishing you a silly (in a good way) day, tomorrow. I'm doing everything I can to laugh as much as I can. Because I know if I don't... well... I prefer laughing, anyway.

Still not sure I'm back, back. Meeting a friend of a Day Job friend tomorrow night for drinks. We've been Facebook friends for a while and are finally meeting face-to-face before he takes off for Boston for a few weeks (our mutual friend describes him as a 'gypsy').

Yes, T and I did have that date, and it was.... very nice and we are both looking forward to more. I'm looking forward to some decent sleep, soon. And doing some laundry. And maybe going out for lunch. Calgon, take me away!

More, anon.
Prospero

Review: "Les Miserables"

Good news: Les Miserables isn't as bad as the haters say it is.  Bad news: It's not nearly as good as it's fans would have you believe.

While it seems everyone wants to adapt movies into Broadway musicals these days (thank you, Galactic Empire), it's still risky to do so in reverse. For every Cabaret or Chicago, there's a Phantom of the Opera or The Producers. And while

I found much to really like about what director Tom Hooper (The King's Speech) did with the piece, many of his choices seemed inconsistent with the scope of an epic tale like Victor Hugo's massive anti-war/redemption/romance. 

There are many great things to say about Hooper's casting, the most pleasantly surprising being Amanda Seyfried's lovely, sweet and honest soprano - like I needed another reason to love her. I know much has been made about the performances of Anne Hathaway, Russell Crowe and Hugh Jackman, both good and bad. Hathaway is very good in her rather brief 20 minute appearance in a nearly 3-hour film. And while Crowe is the weaker singer (they transposed the vocal part of every one of Javert's songs), Jackman actually comes of the worse, nearly strangling to death on "Bring Him Home" (so gorgeously rendered by Colm Wilkinson in the original London and New York Productions*). Hathaway's version of "I Dreamed a Dream" my not be the (and I hate to use the word) 'prettiest,' but the performance probably comes closest to the lyrics' intent than any which may have come before. If you're a fan of Susan Boyle's cover, you'll probably hate this one. And despite what I may feel about Crowe as a human being, he takes his job seriously and his intensity helps his performance past his less-than-perfect vocals in the role of the relentless Detective Javert. Following in the footsteps of Robert Pattinson and Andrew Garfield as really creepy Brit boys American girls swoon over, Eddie Redmayne does a fine job with the vocals, though I have no idea how anyone might fall in love-at-first-sight with him. Right behind Seyfried is Samantha Barks, making her screen debut as Eponine after having sung the role in the show's 25th Anniversary Concert. Barks' performance of "On My Own" (possibly the ultimate song about unrequited love ever written) is one of the film's best scenes. Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter are well cast as the comically villainous inn-keepers, the Thenardiers and gorgeous Aaron Tveit is terrific as the impassioned revolutionary, Enjolras. Daniel Huttlestone (12 at the time of shooting) very nearly steals every scene in which he appears as Gavroche and the ensemble clearly gives their all... 

Hooper obviously has a vision and while he has done his best to be true to it, I can't honestly say his vision works for this particular piece. Hooper spends 90% of the film in close-up after close-up after close-up. The few things not shot this way seemed like aborted attempts to convey the scope of Cameron Macintosh's original stage production. On stage, Les Miserables is practically transcendent when you see it for the first time. Even well-done smaller productions can be truly breathtaking. The seemingly endless close-ups were anything but. Danny Cohen's gorgeous cinematography only serves to enhance Eve Stewart's meticulous production design and Paco Delgado's equally detailed costumes, though the new song "Suddenly" (written only so the film could be eligible for a "Best Song" Oscar), does little to add to Schonberg's and Boubil's original show.

The consensus among the group of actors/directors/musical theatre veterans with whom I saw it tonight: Hooper's adaptation of Les Miserables, while not exactly terrible, suffers from a lack of the theatricality which made the show so successful in the first place. While hardly the worst film adaptation of a stage musical (The Wiz, anyone?), the source material would have probably benefited from a less intimate directing style in order to properly relay Jean val Jean's 30+ year saga. **1/2 (Two and a Half Out of Four Stars). If you like movie musicals and have never seen the show (or heard it's many cast recordings), you may enjoy it. If you are a fan of the show, you might want to skip this version.

 *In the movie, Wilkinson plays the kindly Bishop who gives Val Jean a new lease on life.

More, anon.
Prospero

The Gayest Things You'll See This Week (Possibly NSFW Edition)

NPH Goes Bollywood Sexy!

As you may have noticed, my taste; interests and (hopefully) my life might be described as 'eclectic.' When it comes to movies, I may have some favorite genres, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy others. The first time I actually appreciated a Bollywood musical number was in the delightful and underrated romantic comedy The Guru. Sure, it was Americanized, but I was intrigued by the dance style and wanted more. Luckily, Baz Luhrman gave us an even more elaborate number in the finale to Moulin Rouge and I was hooked. I started seeking them out, learning quickly the difference between a good Bollywood musical and a bad one (production values make all the difference). The plots of most of these films are for the most part, preposterous star-crossed lovers stories or tales of syndicated crime (sometimes both in the same movie). But they all feature those fascinating andcomplex dance numbers. Of course, many of you were with me when I first learned about a Bollywood superstar who is quickly growing into an official "Obsession" (though he'll never replace THE Obsession). I'm referring to the very talented, very hot Hrithic Roshan (sigh...).

His eyes! His face! His body! His dancing! Honestly, I have no qualms about saying Roshan's dance skills put Michael Jackson's to shame. Don't get me wrong, Jackson was a damn good dancer. Roshan is undoubtedly better. Of course, Roshan's 'complete package' and a hotness level of 17 on scale of 1 to 10, eclipses everything else anyway. (sigh...). He truly is stunningly beautiful, isn't he? (sigh..). No, really. I'm fine. (sigh...).

Of course, the one thing Bollywood musicals very rarely celebrate, is gay love. Step right up, Prince Harris. Oh - Let me 'splain, Lucy. If Ellen is our High Queen Lesbian and Elton our High Queen Queen, then America's gay boy next door Neil Patrick Harris is decidedly our naughty, irascible and adorable Clown Prince Harry, providing an exceptionally positive role model for today's queer youth, whether he acknowledges it or not. Neil has a YouTube channel called "Neil's Puppet Dreams," which is a series of shorts in which Neil 'dreams in puppet.' Often silly, sometimes racy and always  hilarious, I've been a fan from the start. In the 'Season Finale,' Harris and company go after about 104 topics (alight, maybe 6 or 7...) in their best, most elaborate and smartest episode yet:

The man makes me smile every time I see him, no matter what he's doing and seeing him in a splashy, exceptionally clever, pointed and funny Bollywood parody is a treat. Seriously, who doesn't love Neil Patrick Harris? I know of no one.

And since we're in Bollywood, it's only a slightly longer flight to Oz. In what be the stretchiest segue ever, Australia is the Eastern Hemisphere's equivalent to the U.S. in it's scared-to-commit but happy-to-accept-pink-dollars attitudes. The popular majority supports Marriage Equality, but the governing conservatives do not. Sound familiar? The difference is, Australia has never been afraid to openly, joyously and willingly court gay tourism. Via AccidentalBear.com (site may be NSFW), comes this video promoting a party called "John Homosocial (Australia Day Weekend)." While there is no actual nudity, plenty of very naughty things are rather obviously implied and it may well be NSFW:

JOHN HOMOSOCIAL (AUSTRALIA DAY WEEKEND) from Nik Dimopoulos on Vimeo.

And since it seems I unknowingly set up a pattern here (and please let me know if you recognize it, too -- you know, to prove to me I'm not crazy) let's end with a very funny, very NSFW but ultimately endearing tribute to... um... Mom? Ew. But Yay! I'm confused. (also via)

Gurl, I feel your... well, I get it. Literally can't live with 'em and can't live without 'em, eh?  I was also going to post a link to the trailer of a documentary currently playing at Sundance, but decided I was tired of talking about a person involved with it and changed my mind. You probably know who I'm talking about.

More, anon.
Prospero

Reflections On a Randomly Assigned Value of Time

Astronomically, a year is how long it takes for the Earth to revolve around the Sun; approximately 365.25 days. And we measure a day by the time it takes the Earth to revolve around its axis. Of course, the measurement of time is a completely random assignment, as we can only really exist 'now.'

Time has been measured ever since man first realized there was a regularity to the rising and falling of the sun. But it's still a completely objective thing, cut into increments that make sense  to our own concepts of existence. Much like space, time is truly immeasurable and exists solely as a conceptual ideal. The dates on our modern calendars were set by an ancient Roman emperor, to coincide with the seasons. We gladly accept that this coming year is the 2013th year since the apocryphal life of a Nazarene who may or may not have lived in the Middle East some 2000-odd years ago (and there is very little in the way of historical proof of that). 

Setting all of the religious; philosophical and astronomical implications aside, this past 'year' has proven to be a rather extraordinary one for Uncle Prospero. I performed in a musical for the first time in 10 years. I celebrated the 10th Anniversary of a philanthropic theatre company in which I was instrumental from the very start. I made new friends and visited places in the U.S. to which I'd never been. I finally got to act with a dear friend who I've been directing for the past 8 years. I saw some amazing theatre; movies and other performance arts. I set up a future artistic endeavor with one of the new friends I made this year and started a few new projects of my own. I rewrote two screenplays and outlined a dozen or more others. I blogged, Tweeted and Facebooked thousands of words, photos and videos. I also explored thousands of things both online and off, and tried to learn something new, everyday. I earned and spent money; attempted to dance (despite my aging, arthritic knees and total lack of coordination); grew closer to existing friends; cared for an aging parent and hopefully grew as a person. 

I may not have millions of dollars or the perfect house/car/boat/whatever. I may not be a famous celebrity or an award-winning artist. Hell, I'm basically just another Joe Schmoe trying to make my way through another randomly assigned value of time. But I do have some rather amazing friends, family and acquaintances who help me get through every day. In the end, that's what really matters. Astronomy; Philosophy, Religion and Physics aside, all that really matters is living the life you want to live and loving the people who help you live it.

So far (with a few minor exceptions), I think I've done just that. And my 'New Year' wish for all of you is to have the same.

Sorry for the cheesy Rent clip but Larson actually had a good idea with that number.

More, anon.

Prospero

Do You Hear The Wedding Sing?

"Congratulations On Your Wedding. I'm an Orphan of War."

Long time readers know how much your 'Funny Uncle" loves a really good, well-planned and smoothly executed flashmob. While many of the best ones seem to be musical in nature, Improv Everywhere stages all sorts of such events, mostly without music, throughout New York. 

The big ones are professionally engineered, usually to promote something: The "Glee" flashmob in the Italian trains station; Gay Mardi Gras in Australia and this more recent Star Wars Theme orchestral flashmob promoting German (Austrian?) radio station WDR:

Today, among all the gun control arguments and ridiculous religious-nut-with-Photoshop tributes and prayer requests and whatnot, my sweet friend Amanda posted the video below. While the description on YouTube makes it clear that the couple are Musical Theatre fans, but I have to wonder if this was the right song (or even show) for a wedding reception flashmob. Read the description and then watch the actually impressive video:

"The perfect wedding surprise for the musical-loving newlyweds Susanne and Sune Vibæk Svanekier on their wedding on May 26 2012 at the Workers' Museum in Copenhagen."

First of all, many of those folks are actually good singers and their English is excellent. It's obvious that these folk rehearsed and rehearsed for the number and the couple (particularly the groom - watch for him "conducting") are really into it.  I just have to question the use of a song from one of the saddest musicals of all time; a song about preparing for battle, no less, in a wedding tribute. It's almost as bad as a DJ playing "Please Release Me." Now before you say nasty things - of course it is obviously the couple's favorite show. Of course it is appropriate for them. Should my lovely, creative and talented friends stage such a flashmob in the very unlikely event I got married, I think "You're the One That I Want" or something from "The Wedding Singer" or "Springtime for Hitler" or almost anything else than Les Miserables! Of course the fact that the movie is just over a week away from it's U.S. release doesn't hurt.

I posted both movie versions, just in case you want to prepare. Did you notice a gorgeous blond John Barrowman in the second version? I almost forgot Uma Thurman was in that movie, though Roger Bart's Carmen Ghia is almost as funny as the original's Andreas Voutsinas. Here are a few more numbers I don't suggest for a wedding:

No, at my wedding I want Big Dipper: (Most certainly NSFW):



More, anon.
Prospero

Dance as if Everyone Is Watching

The Very Fine Mr. Gene Kelly

Not too long ago, I was asked if given a choice of any Hollywood star (alive or dead), with whom would I most prefer to spend a romantic evening? My first thought was my Obsession, but then I realized I wanted a dirty, rough and tumble night with Jason. Romance is not in our cards...

For a night of romance...? The choice was obvious... the one and only Gene Kelly. I mean, come on! Look at him there all rugged and gorgeous. He's also my only ever answer to "Astaire or Kelly?" Not to disparage the graceful and talented Fred Astaire. I get it. But Gene... (sigh...) was an athlete. You may have danced with a broom and on the ceiling, Fred but Gene danced in the rain; on roller skates; in barns and with a friggin' cartoon mouse! Plus... well, just look at him! The actor-dancer-singer-choreographer-director was a Star for lots of reasons. Oh -- screw you, Stomp!

Like many who spend their lives in the theatre, I fell in love with performing in Musical Theatre. It was really the first time I actually got the idea of creating a person who was completely different from myself. What gay teen in the 70's wouldn't love that? I literally had a nationally renown high school Theatre teacher who also exposed me to weird, experimental theatre; Thornton Wilder; Edward Albee; T.S. Eliot and Radu & Ragni, all while increasing the greasepaint in my veins... I try not to have regrets about my life. It's led me to so many wonderful things, people, friends and experiences and I wouldn't take back any of it. But I do regret that I never learned how to read music and how to dance. Don't get me wrong - I have danced in musicals. It was always a laborious task - though luckily in high school, you get a lot more rehearsal time than in the real world. Even in college and beyond, I've been able to pull off some complicated stuff, but only with lots and lots and lots of practice. And as with anything, it's gotten even harder with age. I was down to the bare minimum of movement in Hairspray because my knees are so bad - and I was never really all that graceful to begin with. Somehow, I got through it. I don't know if I could again.

What brought all this on is the clip I am about to share (via) called "Let's Dance." It's a compilation of dance clips you may or may not have seen before, this time set to "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers (I'm not familiar, but I think I need to hear more from them). Take a look and then check out some other hot dancers who make me rue my lack of dance talent:

This one's probably NSFW:

Of course, if asked to chose only a living star, it would be gorgeous Bollywood Bear, Hrithric Roshan. Seriously, it should be illegal to be so sexy:

As for this post's title - you've all heard the phrase "Dance as if no one is watching." Well, I call BS! Dance as if  EVERYONE is watching, all the time! Do everything you do like every one is watching. Bask in their admiration and feed off their applause. I think that Jebus fellow might be attributed as having said "Don't hide your light under a bushel" or something to that effect. Revel in all that you are and everything you do. I may not dance, but damn if I can't sing, act and direct. Of course, in thirty-odd years of directing, I've never taken on a musical. And there are plenty on which I want to put my stamp.

I guess I have a new goal. Yay!

More, anon.
Prospero

Too Many Titles!!

Fine Middle-Aged Cannibals?

I couldn't decide what to call this post. I didn't want to go the Sweeney Todd route, though I'll certainly be talking about that in a moment (though I doubt either of these people were breaking out into clever, darkly humored song). I almost did "The Brazilian Empenada Massacre;" "Waiter, There's a Tooth in My Empenada;" "Wrong Turn 7: Carnivale" (think about that one a sec...); "Honey, I Cooked the Nannies..." Then I thought about how awful a story it really is. And went right back to thinking up horrible jokes to make about it. Because... well, more on that in a moment. Let's see what I'm going on about, first.

The Mirror is reporting that in Brazil, Jorge Silveira (50), wife Isobel (51) and mistress Bruna da Silva (25) lured women to their home to work as nannies. The women were killed and cooked into empenadas which were eaten by the trio and sold to folks in the hood.

As Mrs. Lovett might say, "Times is hard..." That's Jorge and Isobel in the photo. I guess they don't have Clairol in Brazil. Of course eating human flesh - no matter how mouth-wateringly delicious it may seem - is a depraved act in modern society. And they weren't all TCM about it. They did it... are you ready? Really, really ready? They did it for their religion. The couple reportedly belong to a cult which exhorts ritualistic cannibalism as a "purification ritual." Once again, religion proves to be the completely sane and sensible route to take... NOT! And I make horrible jokes about it because if I didn't laugh, I'd lose my mind over how awful people can be to one another, especially under the influence of religion.

Many years ago, I had just started a new retail job and was making new friends; figuring out what clique I was going to be in (and boy, was I), etc. News broke in Philadelphia about a woman escaping the basement dungeon of serial kidnapper/rapist/murderer Gary Heidnik. The reports in those first few days were horror upon horror and it all became to awful and people started making sick jokes, as they do. We were in the store's basement, stocking the Toy department before the grand opening and I several other department managers had gotten friendly and we start in with the Heidnik jokes. The ones that laughed were in the clique. Not because we were the "mean girls," but because we dealt with the horror through humor. A very sweet current co-worker and Facebook friend called me out on my dark streak by finally recognizing Krampus as my profile picture, because of her heritage. "A lot of your posts and pictures are dark and weird and I have no frame of reference for them," she wrote. I completely understand. 

And speaking of humor, horror and cannibalism, my favorite musical role of my varied stage career is undoubtedly Sweeney in Sondheim's darkly humored operetta Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. One of the few shows my mother saw and said "I forgot it was you." Of course this story echoes the plot of Sweeney Todd, or at least some of it. Murder and human pies for sale. Hell, there's even a mistress the wife lets play. It doesn't get much more salacious than that. Or funnier. Here's my favorite number from Sweeney Todd (and the one I learned first):

Here are a few other references I refrained from making:




This next one may be NSFW



That has be the strangest soundtrack for a horror movie, ever...



A strange, strange film...



One of my favorite oddball indie comedies, ever...

Okay... I'm done. I promise. Except, I think I want a meat-lover's pizza, now.

More, anon.
Prospero