It's a pyramid of theatrical marvels, each one outdazzling the last. But I think we aren't as much impressed by the dazzle as we are moved by the emotion it represents; a kind of mounting ecstatic melancholy holds us in its grip.
---Arlene Croce on Balanchine's Nutcracker, "The New Yorker," Jan 22 1979
I don't have --at the moment -- too much to add to what I wrote about The Nutcracker two years ago on this blog. I was put off by the tendency of too many parents to take their kids to The Nutcracker and then never again to another ballet, as well as discussing this ballet with others and hearing them rave about the growing Christmas tree without any appreciation of the dancing or the choreography. But this is certainly not the fault of Balanchine or the ballet; i.e., Balanchine did a lot of work for the theatre and movies --before he took over New York City Ballet --and understood the power of theatrical effects. Balanchine's Nutcracker is like Chaplin's films: it can be appreciated by everyone in different ways and at different levels, from the growing tree to the incredible intricacy of the arabesques, traveling rond de jambs and tour jetes in the Waltz of the Flowers and the beautiful music of Tschaikovsky, here conducted by Andrews Sill.
As usual the children were great, 63 children rehearsed by Dena Abergel, Children's Ballet Master. I have often mentioned that Balanchine's choreography emphasizes the solo, the couple and the group, but he also emphasizes, in The Nutcracker and a few other ballets (A Midsummer Night's Dream, for example) the interactions of different ages. In The Nutcracker, for instance, all the children want to be grown-ups and many of the grown-ups wish they could be children again and there is a tension, part of the melancholy that Arlene Croce mentions, among what we are, what we could be, and what we could have been.
The Nutcracker, like many of Balanchine's ballets, is somewhat dancer-proof. In Tuesday's performance they had the second string in (no principals) and they were superb, perhaps to some extent due to the chance they were given and maybe even somewhat due to the current absence of Peter Martins. Particularly lovely were Unity Phelan as The Sugarplum Fairy and Cameron Dieck as Her Cavalier; the magical moment when she glides across the stage on point while barely touching him captures the beauty of a relationship where each person is independent but still thrives with the support of another, a constant Balanchine theme.
Friday, December 29, 2017
Turner Classic Movie Jan. 2018
Nothing that new or unusual in Jan., but a number of good American and foreign films:
Jan. 3 has Howard Hawks's excellent science fiction/horror film The Thing From Another World (1951, technically directed by Christian Nyby), as well as La Jettee (1962), an intense short by Chris Marker (remade as the bloated Twelve Monkeys in 1995)
On the 4th is Leo McCarey's lovely Love Affair (1939).
The 7th has Nicholas Ray's film noir In a Lonely Place (1950, from a novel by Dorothy Hughes) and Antonioni's existential La Notte (1961)
The 8th has George Cukor's male/female rivalry comedy Adam's Rib (1949), Joseph Losey's M (1951, an American remake of Fritz Lang's 1931 original) and Phil Karlson's dark film about corruption The Phenix City Story (1955).
On the 11th is Howard Hawks's comedy Bringing Up Baby (1938).
On the 15th is King Vidor's early sound film Hallelujah (1929) and John Ford's Sergeant Rutledge, about an early African-American cavalry unit (1960)
On the 16th is Lubitsch's elegant Ninotchka (1939) and Orson Welles's botched The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), never properly completed.
On the 17th is Welles's intelligent and brilliant Chimes at Midnight (1965), Lubitsch's final comedy, Cluny Brown (1946) and Max Ophuls's stylish The Earrings of Madame De..(1953)
On the 20th is McCarey's Make Way for Tomorrow (1937), a wonderful film about growing old, Vincente Minnelli's melancholic musical Band Wagon (1953) and Ermmano Olmi's soaring The Tree of the Wooden Clogs (1978)
On the 23rd are two beautiful films by Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu, Equinox Flower(1958) and Early Summer (1951).
More Lubitsch on the 24th, including The Merry Widow (1934) and the dark and wonderful To Be or Not To Be (1942).
The 25th has Budd Boetticher's beautiful and austere Western, Comanche Station (1960).
The 27 has two great films noirs: Raoul Walsh's White Heat (1949) and Rudolph Mate's D.O.A. (1950), with Edmond O'Brien walking into a police station to announce "I've been murdered."
The 28th has Chaplin's A Woman of Paris (1923)
On the 29th is Lloyd Bacon's Kill the Umpire (1950), written by Frank Tashlin and one of the best movies about baseball.
On the 30th is John Ford's war film, They Were Expendable (1945), about grace in defeat, and on the 31st is Otto Preminger's grimly beautiful film noir Angel Face (1952).
Jan. 3 has Howard Hawks's excellent science fiction/horror film The Thing From Another World (1951, technically directed by Christian Nyby), as well as La Jettee (1962), an intense short by Chris Marker (remade as the bloated Twelve Monkeys in 1995)
On the 4th is Leo McCarey's lovely Love Affair (1939).
The 7th has Nicholas Ray's film noir In a Lonely Place (1950, from a novel by Dorothy Hughes) and Antonioni's existential La Notte (1961)
The 8th has George Cukor's male/female rivalry comedy Adam's Rib (1949), Joseph Losey's M (1951, an American remake of Fritz Lang's 1931 original) and Phil Karlson's dark film about corruption The Phenix City Story (1955).
On the 11th is Howard Hawks's comedy Bringing Up Baby (1938).
On the 15th is King Vidor's early sound film Hallelujah (1929) and John Ford's Sergeant Rutledge, about an early African-American cavalry unit (1960)
On the 16th is Lubitsch's elegant Ninotchka (1939) and Orson Welles's botched The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), never properly completed.
On the 17th is Welles's intelligent and brilliant Chimes at Midnight (1965), Lubitsch's final comedy, Cluny Brown (1946) and Max Ophuls's stylish The Earrings of Madame De..(1953)
On the 20th is McCarey's Make Way for Tomorrow (1937), a wonderful film about growing old, Vincente Minnelli's melancholic musical Band Wagon (1953) and Ermmano Olmi's soaring The Tree of the Wooden Clogs (1978)
On the 23rd are two beautiful films by Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu, Equinox Flower(1958) and Early Summer (1951).
More Lubitsch on the 24th, including The Merry Widow (1934) and the dark and wonderful To Be or Not To Be (1942).
The 25th has Budd Boetticher's beautiful and austere Western, Comanche Station (1960).
The 27 has two great films noirs: Raoul Walsh's White Heat (1949) and Rudolph Mate's D.O.A. (1950), with Edmond O'Brien walking into a police station to announce "I've been murdered."
The 28th has Chaplin's A Woman of Paris (1923)
On the 29th is Lloyd Bacon's Kill the Umpire (1950), written by Frank Tashlin and one of the best movies about baseball.
On the 30th is John Ford's war film, They Were Expendable (1945), about grace in defeat, and on the 31st is Otto Preminger's grimly beautiful film noir Angel Face (1952).
Friday, December 22, 2017
Ferdinand, directed by Carlos Saldanha
Ferdinand, the film, is based on the 1936 book The Story of Ferdinand, written by Munro Leaf and illustrated in black-and- white by Robert Lawson. I accompanied my wife and daughter to this at our local theatre, The Alpine, in a showing sponsored by my daughter's school. My response: stick to the charming book or, at least, the eight-minute hand-drawn version directed for Disney by Dick Rickard in 1938, a version that even includes Ferdinand's mother, who is not in the new version; it's available on YouTube.
Carlos Saldanha is Brazilian and bullfighting has never been successful in Brazil, though the Portuguese version does not include killing the bull in the ring. Ferdinand takes place in Spain and is somewhat coy about what actually happens at a bullfight, though it does show the "chop shop" where bulls are sent if they are considered unsuitable for the ring.
Carlos Saldanha is Brazilian and bullfighting has never been successful in Brazil, though the Portuguese version does not include killing the bull in the ring. Ferdinand takes place in Spain and is somewhat coy about what actually happens at a bullfight, though it does show the "chop shop" where bulls are sent if they are considered unsuitable for the ring.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Erle Stanley Gardner's The Case of the Howling Dog (1934) and John Grisham's The Rooster Bar (2017)
A broad-shouldered, rather heavy-set man, of about thirty-two, with haunted brown eyes, walked into the office, and stared at the sober countenance of Perry Mason.
Erle Stanley Gardner, The Case of the Howling Dog (1934)
The difference between Gardner's novel and Grisham's is one of eighty-three years and intensity of focus, i.e., Gardner's book is about one case in one place, while Grisham's is about many cases and takes place in various American cities as well as in Senegal. Both Perry Mason and the three protagonists of Grisham's novel skirt the law, with Mason just inside of it and Mark, Todd and Zola just outside of it. Grisham's novel uses the relatively limited vocabulary of current potboilers, while Gardner is not afraid to use words such as meretricious and use them well. Gardner's book starts out with a simple plot that becomes progressively more complex, leading up to a sensational murder trial, while Grisham explains everything at length while indulging in somewhat one-sided social criticism: of banks, law schools and immigration authorities.
Gardner's book is structured to some extent like an eighteenth century novel, with plot elements continually discussed by Mason and Paul Drake, his investigator, to keep us informed of various developments. In Grisham's novel three law-school students drop out of law school after one of their fellow students commits suicide and decide to practice law without a degree and without passing the bar. Interestingly there is no discussion by the students or by Grisham about the position of Milton Friedman and some other economists that licensing lawyers is simply a way to keep the number of lawyers down and the prices up. Also, there is no mention of the seven states that allow one to become a lawyer without going to law school; the three law school seniors have student debt of several hundred-thousand dollars each. The three Grisham students quickly get caught (they haven't paid attention to the statutes of limitation in their three years of law school) but manage to escape to Zola's family, now deported to Senegal. Perry Mason gets an acquittal for his client, though he (and we) are not sure whether or not she did actually commit murder.
Erle Stanley Gardner, The Case of the Howling Dog (1934)
The difference between Gardner's novel and Grisham's is one of eighty-three years and intensity of focus, i.e., Gardner's book is about one case in one place, while Grisham's is about many cases and takes place in various American cities as well as in Senegal. Both Perry Mason and the three protagonists of Grisham's novel skirt the law, with Mason just inside of it and Mark, Todd and Zola just outside of it. Grisham's novel uses the relatively limited vocabulary of current potboilers, while Gardner is not afraid to use words such as meretricious and use them well. Gardner's book starts out with a simple plot that becomes progressively more complex, leading up to a sensational murder trial, while Grisham explains everything at length while indulging in somewhat one-sided social criticism: of banks, law schools and immigration authorities.
Gardner's book is structured to some extent like an eighteenth century novel, with plot elements continually discussed by Mason and Paul Drake, his investigator, to keep us informed of various developments. In Grisham's novel three law-school students drop out of law school after one of their fellow students commits suicide and decide to practice law without a degree and without passing the bar. Interestingly there is no discussion by the students or by Grisham about the position of Milton Friedman and some other economists that licensing lawyers is simply a way to keep the number of lawyers down and the prices up. Also, there is no mention of the seven states that allow one to become a lawyer without going to law school; the three law school seniors have student debt of several hundred-thousand dollars each. The three Grisham students quickly get caught (they haven't paid attention to the statutes of limitation in their three years of law school) but manage to escape to Zola's family, now deported to Senegal. Perry Mason gets an acquittal for his client, though he (and we) are not sure whether or not she did actually commit murder.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Alexander Mackendrick's The Maggie (1954)
Alexander Mackendrick's comedies lead up to this kind of extreme, savage ending with triumph and humiliation and an uncertainty about what they "mean."
--Charles Barr, Ealing Studios (The Overlook Press, 1977)
Mackendrick was an American who directed several gentle comedies at Ealing in the 50's (The Man in the White Suit was another, in 1952) that were not so gentle, often pitting Americans against the old-fashioned customs of Scotland (as in The Maggie) or England and where nobody comes off unscathed. In The Maggie (called High and Dry in America) an American tries to ship his furniture to his estate in Scotland and an Englishman screws up the shipping, assigning it to an old broken down Scottish "puffer, " barely able to make it on The Clyde. The American has his way of doing things and the Scots have theirs and the Scottish skipper outwits every attempt of the American to intimidate him, with the furniture and the appliances ending up at the bottom of the river and the captain paid off and The Maggie renamed The Calvin B. Marshall in the American's honor.
Like most good comedies The Maggie is a serious film, about the clash between the old ways, represented by Captain Mactaggart (played by Alex Mackenzie) and the new ways represented by Marshall (Paul Douglas). In the middle is a boy (played by Tommy Kearins) who tries --mostly unsuccessfully-- to understand both sides. The film was made on Scottish locations, in beautiful black-and-white.
Mackendrick came back to America after this film and made the corrosive The Sweet Smell of Success (1957) and in 1959 Ealing was dissolved, a victim of some of the same forces portrayed in The Maggie. Although Ealing is known for its comedies (particularly those with Alec Guinness) they did make some superb dramas, especially in their early years (the studio years were 1939-59). My own favorite is It Always Rains on Sunday, directed by Robert Hamer in 1947. I highly recommend Charles Barr's intelligent and thorough book about Ealing, England and the British film industry.
--Charles Barr, Ealing Studios (The Overlook Press, 1977)
Mackendrick was an American who directed several gentle comedies at Ealing in the 50's (The Man in the White Suit was another, in 1952) that were not so gentle, often pitting Americans against the old-fashioned customs of Scotland (as in The Maggie) or England and where nobody comes off unscathed. In The Maggie (called High and Dry in America) an American tries to ship his furniture to his estate in Scotland and an Englishman screws up the shipping, assigning it to an old broken down Scottish "puffer, " barely able to make it on The Clyde. The American has his way of doing things and the Scots have theirs and the Scottish skipper outwits every attempt of the American to intimidate him, with the furniture and the appliances ending up at the bottom of the river and the captain paid off and The Maggie renamed The Calvin B. Marshall in the American's honor.
Like most good comedies The Maggie is a serious film, about the clash between the old ways, represented by Captain Mactaggart (played by Alex Mackenzie) and the new ways represented by Marshall (Paul Douglas). In the middle is a boy (played by Tommy Kearins) who tries --mostly unsuccessfully-- to understand both sides. The film was made on Scottish locations, in beautiful black-and-white.
Mackendrick came back to America after this film and made the corrosive The Sweet Smell of Success (1957) and in 1959 Ealing was dissolved, a victim of some of the same forces portrayed in The Maggie. Although Ealing is known for its comedies (particularly those with Alec Guinness) they did make some superb dramas, especially in their early years (the studio years were 1939-59). My own favorite is It Always Rains on Sunday, directed by Robert Hamer in 1947. I highly recommend Charles Barr's intelligent and thorough book about Ealing, England and the British film industry.
Monday, December 11, 2017
Big Apple Circus Dec. 10, 2017
The Big Apple Circus has returned to New York's Lincoln Center; after going bankrupt last year as a nonprofit it has returned under the ownership of Big Top Works, who purchased all its assets. This year it is directed by Mark Lonergan and choreographed by Antoinette DiPiertropolo. To some extent the original Big Apple Circus was known for its performance art (not a term one hears too much anymore) but now it is more traditional circus acts, with Ringling Brothers having gone out of business. I think at this point a circus appeals more to children than adults and my six-year-old daughter loved it, though the performances can still be exciting and, occasionally, beautiful and the pointlessness of much of the show is part of the appeal.
I was particularly impressed with the balancing act of Dandino Luciana on the rola bola, a board on top of a rolling can that looked like something I have used in physical therapy, and I was impressed by juggler Gamel Garcia, bouncing and juggling a dozen tennis balls at a time. And I liked the acrobats, the Anastasni brothers, and the Flying Tienzianis on the trapeze. The Wallendas did a pyramid of seven people on the tightrope, a format that was more interesting than beautiful. The strangest act was that of contortionist Elayne Kraymer, who shot an arrow into a balloon using a bow with her feet, that were over her head.
Circuses have now eliminated the offensive wild animal acts and sideshows. The Big Apple Circus did have the dog and pony shows of Jenny Vidbel, with the horses running around the ring and the dogs jumping through hoops. The horses and dogs were loved by the kids in the audience, as were the clowns Grandma (played by Barry Lubin) and Joel Jeske; my daughter particularly liked the part of their act where they took large sips of water and spewed them on each other, reminding me of a scene in Catcher in the Rye.
The current trend in circuses is exemplified by Cirque du Soleil, which relies strictly on human performers and in some ways is like a dance performance. The Big Apple Circus has a foot in the past and a foot trying to extend into the future and one hopes it can continue.
I was particularly impressed with the balancing act of Dandino Luciana on the rola bola, a board on top of a rolling can that looked like something I have used in physical therapy, and I was impressed by juggler Gamel Garcia, bouncing and juggling a dozen tennis balls at a time. And I liked the acrobats, the Anastasni brothers, and the Flying Tienzianis on the trapeze. The Wallendas did a pyramid of seven people on the tightrope, a format that was more interesting than beautiful. The strangest act was that of contortionist Elayne Kraymer, who shot an arrow into a balloon using a bow with her feet, that were over her head.
Circuses have now eliminated the offensive wild animal acts and sideshows. The Big Apple Circus did have the dog and pony shows of Jenny Vidbel, with the horses running around the ring and the dogs jumping through hoops. The horses and dogs were loved by the kids in the audience, as were the clowns Grandma (played by Barry Lubin) and Joel Jeske; my daughter particularly liked the part of their act where they took large sips of water and spewed them on each other, reminding me of a scene in Catcher in the Rye.
The current trend in circuses is exemplified by Cirque du Soleil, which relies strictly on human performers and in some ways is like a dance performance. The Big Apple Circus has a foot in the past and a foot trying to extend into the future and one hopes it can continue.
Friday, December 8, 2017
Hong Sangsoo's Right Now, Wrong Then
Korean director Hong Sangsoo was brought to my attention by a recent article in Film Comment about him, written by Dan Sullivan. Hong has made 21 movies and some of them are available on DVD.
Right Now, Wrong Then (2015) is a fairly successful attempt to go back to the beginning of film, to the time of D.W.Griffith and even before, to think about what a film can and should be. The simplicity of Hong's style reminds one of Eric Rohmer's films (though without the philosophical insight) or those of Yasujiro Ozu (without the historical reflections): two characters talk within a single shot, with an occasional relatively unobtrusive zoom (zoom lenses go back to the twenties, though were used most extensively in the 1970's). In Hong's film a director, Ham (played by Jung Jae-young) comes early to a film festival in Suwon and picks up a woman artist, Hea-jung (played by Kim Min-hee). They drink, become inebriated and part ways when she finds out he is married. Then the film starts all over again, with things going in a slightly different direction, where Ham (usually called "director Ham") takes Hea-jung home (she lives with her mother) and then says good-bye to her while she is watching his film the next day, after she literally leaves him out in the cold.
The differences in the two parts are relatively subtle, demonstrating how a slight word or two can make a significant change in a burgeoning relationship. In the first part Ham comes across more as a womanizer, perhaps having even come early to Suwon to see if he can find a woman to impress with his status as a film director, and tells Hea-jung what he thinks she wants to hear, narrating to some extent what he is up to. In the second part he seems to care more for Hea-jung but still acts like something of a drunken lout, especially when he goes with her to a party with her friends, after she has told him she has no friends; he heads back to Seoul as she walks home alone in the snow. The film is a good example of what Jean-Luc Godard once said about a film: it should take half-way between the viewer and the screen. Can we change who we are and how we behave in different times and places and with different people? As Hea-jung walks home has her encounter with Ham changed her in any way?
Right Now, Wrong Then (2015) is a fairly successful attempt to go back to the beginning of film, to the time of D.W.Griffith and even before, to think about what a film can and should be. The simplicity of Hong's style reminds one of Eric Rohmer's films (though without the philosophical insight) or those of Yasujiro Ozu (without the historical reflections): two characters talk within a single shot, with an occasional relatively unobtrusive zoom (zoom lenses go back to the twenties, though were used most extensively in the 1970's). In Hong's film a director, Ham (played by Jung Jae-young) comes early to a film festival in Suwon and picks up a woman artist, Hea-jung (played by Kim Min-hee). They drink, become inebriated and part ways when she finds out he is married. Then the film starts all over again, with things going in a slightly different direction, where Ham (usually called "director Ham") takes Hea-jung home (she lives with her mother) and then says good-bye to her while she is watching his film the next day, after she literally leaves him out in the cold.
The differences in the two parts are relatively subtle, demonstrating how a slight word or two can make a significant change in a burgeoning relationship. In the first part Ham comes across more as a womanizer, perhaps having even come early to Suwon to see if he can find a woman to impress with his status as a film director, and tells Hea-jung what he thinks she wants to hear, narrating to some extent what he is up to. In the second part he seems to care more for Hea-jung but still acts like something of a drunken lout, especially when he goes with her to a party with her friends, after she has told him she has no friends; he heads back to Seoul as she walks home alone in the snow. The film is a good example of what Jean-Luc Godard once said about a film: it should take half-way between the viewer and the screen. Can we change who we are and how we behave in different times and places and with different people? As Hea-jung walks home has her encounter with Ham changed her in any way?
Thursday, December 7, 2017
James Whale's One More River (1934)
James Whale is most remembered for some of the best horror/science-fiction movies ever made -- Frankenstein (1931), The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), The Invisible Man (1933), The Old Dark House (1932) -- while his other complex and stylish films are mostly forgotten or ignored. I first saw One More River (1934) at The New School, presented by William K. Everson in July 1972 with detailed program notes: Grace is the keynote of this film -- from the cool beauty of Diana Wynyard on through the elegant sets and camerawork and smooth editing. The Englishness of it all (Everson, like Whale, was English) was most apparent when C. Aubrey Smith, playing Wynyard's father, responded to her telling him that her husband (played elegantly and nastily by Colin Clive) had beaten her with a riding crop with "Bounder! Swine!" And when Wynyard was raped by her husband (off camera) she tried to recover with a cup of tea!
What Whale brilliantly shows is how much is churning under the surface in England while people are trying desperately to hold on to civilized behavior, as war is drawing nearer. Wynyard and her male friend get stuck overnight in a car and repress their emotions as they spend the night together, not knowing that her husband is having them followed. Clive sues her for divorce, since at that time adultery was the only grounds for divorce in England, and the last third of the film is a beautifully filmed trial scene, with subtle camera movements following each witness to the dock to testify and Whale taking time to let each person testify at length and the barristers to make all their arguments. The trial helps Wynyard to recover the feeling that her husband had killed in her.
The script for One More River was from John Galsworthy's last novel and was written by playwright R.C. Sherriff. Whale, a former director of plays, brings out its subtle theatricality, with numerous scenes fading to black, followed by a low-key theatrical entrance. The print recently shown by Turner Classic Movies was sharp and beautiful and effectively captured the precise and elegant style of Whale and cinematographer John J. Mescall.
What Whale brilliantly shows is how much is churning under the surface in England while people are trying desperately to hold on to civilized behavior, as war is drawing nearer. Wynyard and her male friend get stuck overnight in a car and repress their emotions as they spend the night together, not knowing that her husband is having them followed. Clive sues her for divorce, since at that time adultery was the only grounds for divorce in England, and the last third of the film is a beautifully filmed trial scene, with subtle camera movements following each witness to the dock to testify and Whale taking time to let each person testify at length and the barristers to make all their arguments. The trial helps Wynyard to recover the feeling that her husband had killed in her.
The script for One More River was from John Galsworthy's last novel and was written by playwright R.C. Sherriff. Whale, a former director of plays, brings out its subtle theatricality, with numerous scenes fading to black, followed by a low-key theatrical entrance. The print recently shown by Turner Classic Movies was sharp and beautiful and effectively captured the precise and elegant style of Whale and cinematographer John J. Mescall.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Roundup of Les Romans Policiers: Gardner, Simenon, Connelly, Child
The Knife Slipped by Erle Stanley Gardner ('writing as A.A. Fair") was recently published by Hard Case Crime. It was written in 1939 and meant to be the second of the 40 novels Gardner wrote about private detectives Bertha Cool and Donald Lam but was considered too racy and violent at the time and Bertha Cool too hot and tough. I pulled my hat down low on my forehead and walked out of the office. Elsie Brand didn't even look up from her typing. Bertha Cool stood in the doorway of her private office, watching me out through the outer door. "Goodbye, lover," she said. I slammed the door. (Titan, 2016).
The Yellow Dog is one of Georges Simenon's earlier books about Inspector Jules Maigret, who studies people rather than clues in order to discover the murderer. In this book Simenon seems in considerable debt to Arthur Conan Doyle, as the motive for the murder goes back a fair number of years and involves a number of conspirators in a small coastal town where every one knows every one else. Simenon wrote over 200 books, 75 of them with Maigret as the detective. "You're lucky my friend! Especially in this case in which my method has actually been not to have one." (Penguin, 1931. Translated by Linda Asher).
The Midnight Line is number 20 in Lee Child's series about Jack Reacher, ex-Army MP and West Point graduate who travels randomly with just his toothbrush. Reacher discovers a West Point class ring in a pawn shop and sets out to find its original owner, helped by his contacts in the army. He eventually ends up in Wyoming, in the middle of an opioid ring which supplies the West Point injured soldier, Rose Sanderson, and fights (physically and mentally) his way out. Map reading. The difference between winning and getting wiped out. (Delacorte Press, 2017)
Two Kinds of Truth is Michael Connelly's 22nd book about Harry Bosch, now retired and working for the San Fernando police. As usual, Connelly has loner Bosch working on two different cases simultaneously: in one he goes undercover to solve a murder involving an opioid ring and in the other he has to defend his actions in a reopened case where he helped put someone on death row thirty years ago who is still there. Bosch barely survives the undercover operation and is successful in defending his actions of thirty years ago, with the help of his half-brother lawyer. Connelly continues to create vivid characters within the detailed workings of lawyers and policemen, though Bosch is fighting against his increasing cynicism. The reality of the world was dark and horrifying.
(Little, Brown and Company, 2017)
The Yellow Dog is one of Georges Simenon's earlier books about Inspector Jules Maigret, who studies people rather than clues in order to discover the murderer. In this book Simenon seems in considerable debt to Arthur Conan Doyle, as the motive for the murder goes back a fair number of years and involves a number of conspirators in a small coastal town where every one knows every one else. Simenon wrote over 200 books, 75 of them with Maigret as the detective. "You're lucky my friend! Especially in this case in which my method has actually been not to have one." (Penguin, 1931. Translated by Linda Asher).
The Midnight Line is number 20 in Lee Child's series about Jack Reacher, ex-Army MP and West Point graduate who travels randomly with just his toothbrush. Reacher discovers a West Point class ring in a pawn shop and sets out to find its original owner, helped by his contacts in the army. He eventually ends up in Wyoming, in the middle of an opioid ring which supplies the West Point injured soldier, Rose Sanderson, and fights (physically and mentally) his way out. Map reading. The difference between winning and getting wiped out. (Delacorte Press, 2017)
Two Kinds of Truth is Michael Connelly's 22nd book about Harry Bosch, now retired and working for the San Fernando police. As usual, Connelly has loner Bosch working on two different cases simultaneously: in one he goes undercover to solve a murder involving an opioid ring and in the other he has to defend his actions in a reopened case where he helped put someone on death row thirty years ago who is still there. Bosch barely survives the undercover operation and is successful in defending his actions of thirty years ago, with the help of his half-brother lawyer. Connelly continues to create vivid characters within the detailed workings of lawyers and policemen, though Bosch is fighting against his increasing cynicism. The reality of the world was dark and horrifying.
(Little, Brown and Company, 2017)
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Horror Vacuii in Coco and Our Town
Coco is the latest example of the continuing descent of the animated film into meretriciousness and irrelevant and pointless diversity. After Moana and the islands of the South Pacific (see my post of Dec,6, 2016) we are now in Mexico and The Day of the Dead, with the usual Pixar and Disney animation that packs every frame to the point of claustrophobia. There is a story that makes no sense on any level and with the usual vapid songs, this time with a Latin flavor. Hundreds of people worked on this film, seventy-six minutes long, with two directors -- Lee Unkrich and Adrian Malina -- though the film seems more arbitrarily assembled than directed by anyone with any kind of vision. Endless footage is wasted showing how the skeletons in afterlife can fall apart and reassemble themselves while it is never clear what may actually be going on, as a boy seeks out his dead father.
A more successful vision of horror vacuii is Our Town (1940). Sam Wood's direction is wooden indeed and none of the characters come to life until the last "act," when they are dead, sort of. Thorton Wilder's play was done on stage without any elaborate sets but the production designer William Cameron Menzies packs the frames of the shots in the film with complex and elaborate fences, trees and shadows and many of the shots are through the windows of the houses of neighbors Emily and George. The play and the film are mostly sentimental claptrap, making it ideal for high school productions, but Menzies' design makes Grover's Corners come alive in the film. It's hard to know at this point what Wilder was actually trying to say about small towns but what comes across to this viewer, who grew up in a small town, is that everybody knows everyone else's business and conformity rules, rather like the oppressiveness of Bedford Falls in Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life (1946), another critique of small town life that is often misunderstood.
A more successful vision of horror vacuii is Our Town (1940). Sam Wood's direction is wooden indeed and none of the characters come to life until the last "act," when they are dead, sort of. Thorton Wilder's play was done on stage without any elaborate sets but the production designer William Cameron Menzies packs the frames of the shots in the film with complex and elaborate fences, trees and shadows and many of the shots are through the windows of the houses of neighbors Emily and George. The play and the film are mostly sentimental claptrap, making it ideal for high school productions, but Menzies' design makes Grover's Corners come alive in the film. It's hard to know at this point what Wilder was actually trying to say about small towns but what comes across to this viewer, who grew up in a small town, is that everybody knows everyone else's business and conformity rules, rather like the oppressiveness of Bedford Falls in Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life (1946), another critique of small town life that is often misunderstood.
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