sidwich

I wonder what directors like Alfred Hitchcock might have been able to do with Garbo, since Hitchcock wrote the mystery and aloofness into his movies.

I can't see Garbo as a Hitchcock heroine. Hitchcock had a strong misogynistic streak in most of his films, and his heroines are virtually always humiliated and/or tortured in some way. Besides the icy sensuality that they are famous for, the actresses most closely identified with Hitchcock tend to be able to project a vulnerability that I don't see in the same way with Garbo. Garbo's screen persona tends to project a towering strength in the face of adversity that I don't see integrating well into Hitchcock.

I'd actually say that what Brantley is talking about (Garbo's famous aloofness and mystique) is what gives her films a slightly dated quality, whereas the movies of, say, Carole Lombard or Barbara Stanwyck still crackle with vitality. Garbo in most of her movies is sort of static, and always seems like Garbo Playing Christina, or Garbo Playing Marguerite, etc. Her screen persona was based on the idea that in real life, you'd never see someone that beautiful and mysterious. It's like a mannequin came to life. It works well, but there is a distancing effect.

I think most of those actresses really came into their own in the Sound Era. Garbo bridged the period between silent and sound, but there is something about her that for me, always telegraphs that she started as a silent film icon. She really had the perfect face for silent film, and by that, I don't mean because of her beauty. There's the scene in "Sunset Boulevard" where Norma Desmond complains about the sound acting, and how the silent film stars didn't need sounds, "We had FACES!"

Garbo has that kind of face that in some ways doesn't convey feeling and emotion itself, but is perfect for allowing audiences to project their own feelings onto. Mamoulian's final shot in "Queen Christina" is almost a perfect example of it. Is Christina looking forward to the unknown? Still mourning John Gilbert's death? Regretting her abdication? It's whatever the audience wants it to be. Dreiser describes something similar at the end of "Sister Carrie" about why Carrie becomes such a star, but I've always thought Garbo is the perfect example.

Of course it wasn't the same thrill, nor would it be possible for anyone to find the same thrill of anything someone else did. I did think it was exciting just to see her, I just was surprised I didn't find her beautiful--and I usually do find people I thought once were incredibly beautiful (and I do think Garbo was, esp. in 'Anna Karenina') usually so when they get older as well. She looked morose and sour, and I didn't find the scruffy clothes 'quaint and charming', just ill-fitting and boxy. Of course, she didn't care. Just sticking to Hollywood stars I've seen in real life, and not other celebs, I've seen several who were visually stunning even if I thought there talents were vastly inferior--or even their basic endowment of beauty as I perceive it: to see Lana Turner in person at 62 was a Work of Art, a near-hallucination of superbly lurid exoticism way beyond any look I ever saw her project onscreen. I don't know how much this has to do with 'cameras loving people' etc., as is supposed to be the case with Marilyn and others. Ann-Margret was also beautiful in person, and Burt Lancaster was magnificent with no effort at all, same with Liam Neesson. To take one non-showbiz celeb who is at least as famous as Garbo, the queen of England was gorgeous in public (1976), although she never ever photographs as well as that.

I think it's harder to hold people in awe when you see them on a regular basis, even if it's just standing in line at the grocery checkout next to the tabloid stands. I frequent the Hollywood YMCA, and quite a few working and successful actors use the facilities. There's nothing to dampen the awe like seeing a big-name actor sweating beside you on the treadmill.

Yes, the stories of Lana Turner's beauty have been legendary since she was a teenager. Until she passed, Miss Turner lived in the penthouse apartment of the building my grandparents lived in, and she was always magnificent (although I'm pretty sure not unenhanced)in person.

I think Wiles used to perform as one of the Harlots pretty regularly as she was climbing up through the company, and Part was often a very memorable Lady Capulet. I wouldn't think either would be a very natural Juliet, though. I think there's a reason why they excel in roles like Lilac Fairy and Myrtha.

I actually think the question of what is "doing right" by a performer or any artist is rather complex. Sure, the studio system was designed to turn out product, and lots of product very quickly and efficiently, and lots of films were not terribly memorable. But the independent contractor system that's currently in place now makes it quite difficult to get any film off the ground. It's not unusual for stars for even well-known actors to go a year or two without turning out any film at all, let alone a memorable one, and that's not necessarily by choice. Yes, performers, actors, writers do have more power to choose their projects if they're in a position to choose, but the downside is there are a lot fewer potential projects to choose from.

Also, although the programmers were pretty mediocre and formulaic, they did give new talent a steady training ground to develop their craft without the pressure of a major studio project. With less product being turned out, there is more and more pressure for talent to make their debuts count. In the 30s a young performer might get a slew of programmers under their belt before getting into a real feature, but it's not unusual for a first film to make or break a career now.

The old studio old-time contracts certainly put talent under bondage, but in the best cases it did create a long-term interest in developing talent. Hollywood is much more fluid these days, and talent is dropped from projects easily and talent can easily drop a handler (agent, manager, attorney, etc.) easily. It unfortunately creates incentives to make as much money as possible NOW (and collect the sure fee or percentage) without considering long-term consequences to a career.

I'm not saying that the studio system was better, but I do think that some elements of it were actually quite good in developing talent.

Yes, that's always been the rumor, but from what I've heard it's more complex than that, and at least part of the issue is that early sound recording didn't have the capacity to record multiple voices well, especially male and female. Mayer (or whoever was in charge) had the sound technicians set the machines for Garbo's voice, and Gilbert was sacrificed in the process. I doubt we'll ever know the full story (probably elements of all of the rumors floating aorund are true), but Gilbert doesn't sound nearly as bad in later MGM films like Queen Christina.

From what I've heard from more technical film people, the very primitive early recording techniques were not kind to Gilbert. His voice in actuality was not that high, but his voice did not come across well in recording. For some reason, I think it had to do with trying to record multiple voices onto one track at the same time (and specifically male and female voices), but that may be my memory playing tricks with me.

The actual copyright of Tchaikovsky's music of course ended in 1963, seventy years after his death.

Actually, death + 70 only applies to post-1978 works. Pre-1978 copyright terms depend on a myriad of factors, none of which I was very good at keeping track of (publication dates, death of author, renewals, etc.). Mostly, it's publication+ 28 + 28 (if renewed), I think. United Airlines was able to start using "Rhapsody in Blue" as their theme during the 1980s because it fell into public domain only 50ish years after George Gershwin's untimely death in the 1930s. As much as Ira Gershwin and the Gershwin estate fought it, they were unable to do anything about it.

I didn't realize that Tchaikovsky passed away pre-1900. The ballet music definitely would have been in public domain by the time Disney made the "Sleeping Beauty" film.

I think the family of Tchaikovsky should trademark the name "Princess Aurora" and the their music in Russia. The French Should Trademark the Name "Sleeping Beauty" and "Beauty and the Beast" as a French Cultural institution.

I'm sure Disney had to license the music from the Tchaikovsky estate when the film was made, although ironically, the Tchaikovsky-derived music in the film's score is probably now protected under copyright as a derivative work. Who knows what the contract with the Tchaikovsky estate states, though.

But the real issue from the Disney perspective is that they use the princess characters as "marks" of the Disney corporation. It's probably saying something twisted about our society, but the princess characters (Snow White, Cinderella, Jasmine, the Little Mermaid, etc.) are some of the most popular characters at Disney amusement parks, and are used to extort money from parents of little girls in just about every way possible. There is no way that Disney is not going to protect that very lucrative franchise at all costs.

If the works were in public domain, there would probably an interesting copyright question about use of characters if the Tchaikovsky estate were to try to protect "Princess Aurora" in some way. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate was able to block Spielberg and Christopher Columbus from releasing "Young Sherlock Holmes" during the 1980's because they did not license the Sherlock Holmes character from the Conan Doyle estate when they made the film, but I that that was a copyright case and the Conan Doyle stories had not fallen into public domain at the time.

Realistically, though, I doubt Disney will be able to enforce their mark against pre-existing ballets and the trademark application does not even try to apply for a mark for literature purposes. There's also a good chance that the work trademark granted will be limited to something like "Disney's Princess Aurora." I actually don't every everyone in the USPTO is a barbarian.

I think most film people think of the Golden Age of Hollywood as mirroring the rise and fall of the studio system, so usually starting in the 20s and ending in the late 50s or early 60s. Not a big deal for discussion purposes but I think it's a pretty common film convention.

This may have come up somewhere in a discussion of 'Imitation of Life', in the ways that that was 'updated' by Sirk into a film that is much more iconic than the original, although several of the people I was discussing it with thought the original with Claudette Colbert, which is more faithful (I believe, I've never read it) to the Fanny Hurst original, was better because of its 'realism', various other reasons were given. I don't think either version constitutes a great movie, but the Sirk is cinematically much more interesting and I can see why it has overshadowed the early 30s one.

I like the 30s version of "Imitation of Life" as a story. I think it makes much more sense as a story, and is much less patronizing to its African-American characters. Sirk's version is much more visually striking, and he has his own statement about what the story is about which I think diverges quite a bit from what Fanny Hurst has in mind. Sirk made a great movie, though; it's just very different.

Irene Dunne was very gifted, particularly as a comedienne, but she suffered from the same idea that Ginger Rogers did, that the way to be taken seriously as an actress was by abandoning musicals and comedies and concentrating on heavy dramas, many of which haven't aged particularly well. My personal favorite of hers is actually "Theodora Goes Wild."

Lots of women had the bob cut and the flapper look, but there's something uniquely arresting about Brooks on film that's made her an icon even with her very brief film career. In one of my favorite photos of Brooks, she's in boy's clothing and her unique charisma still shines through. Some people just have the "it" factor, and I think Louise Brooks was just one of them.

And the Times had an article yesterday about how many of the Tony nominated or Tony winning shows and the actors in them stay for only short periods of time or in fact, have already closed. This because of "other commitments" which are most probably more lucrative. This surely takes jobs away from the talent that is committed to staying for a run, however long that might be.

I had mixed feelings about the Tony awards this year, but I have to say I don't think that anyone stays for the entire run of a successful show anymore. Even non-name actors on Broadway often only do stints of a year, and six month stays really aren't uncommon at all. New opportunities come up, new artistic challenges arise, and yes, chances to work in more lucrative and less physically demanding projects in film and TV are presented.

I do think it's really unfortunate that so many producers feel it's too risky to try to run a show when the name talent has left, though. In olden days, it may not have been as obvious because shows didn't run 5 or 6 years at a time, and they certainly didn't need to run that long to break even.

Interesting points, mimsyb. Visiting stars do add a little zip to a ballet company's season (and indeed such travelers were one of the hallmarks of the dance boom of the seventies). Perhaps the difference for Broadway is that by and large it's no longer producing its own stars, despite the actors of great distinction to be seen on the boards.

I don't entirely agree that Broadway doesn't produce its own stars, but I do agree that it takes a medium like film and TV to bring those names to the masses. As imperfect like shows like "Pushing Daisies" and "Glee" were/are, they've done a lot to show the vast majority of Americans who never get to New York and certainly couldn't afford the $100+ a ticket the kind of talent that's to be found on Broadway.

Dogs depend on humans for much more than cats do. I can't imagine anyone ever writing a book called "The Cat Who Loved too Much."

One of my neighbors' cats was stalking me for quite a while, culminating in him planting himself on the garage door overhang which looked directly into my bathroom. It was quite unnerving to wake up and find Crazy Stalker Cat watching me brush my teeth in the morning.

Thankfully, he gave up his most stalkery behavior after a few months.

Elvis has lost a step in the last year, so he's had to give up entertaining himself by beating up the other neighborhood animals. I did catch him taking a swipe at Crazy Stalker Cat last week, though, so no doubt that Elvis still wants him to know who's the boss in this corner of the neighborhood.

It looks like they are cracking down on seat stealers. Right before the lights went down at the beginning of the show, a woman who had a ticket in the Family Circle tried to sneak into an empty seat in the Balcony. The usher politely told her two or three times that she must return to her own seat. The woman would not leave. As the lights went down, the usher gave her an ultimatum that she either return to her seat or security would be called. I guess she assumed that the usher was bluffing, as she refused to budge. Sure enough, when the lights came up at the end of the first act, she was escorted out by two security guards.

I would not put anything past the Met ushers. Several years ago when the Paris Opera Ballet visited the Met, an usher tried to kick me out of seat for which I had a ticket. She was only somewhat mollified when I showed it to her.

I have yet to hear an opera singer do anything well but B'way and operetta, which are close enough and formal enough. They do not know how to 'swing' as if they were born with it, and that's what it has to have.

I have very rarely heard opera singers do Broadway well. The balance of emphasis on the vowels vs. the consonants in opera is very different than in musical theatre, and the phrasing tends to get very distorted. Interestingly, I find pop singers attempting standards have the same problem. Even with Nelson Riddle's guidance, Linda Ronstadt's phrasing in her standards albums seems to miss the intricacy of the internal rhyming that is key to what she is singing.

My high school music teacher worshipped Jessye Norman, but he seemed to take fiendish delight in playing us a particularly horrific recording she had done of Bernstein's "Somewhere," complete with incomprehensible lyrics and faux pop slides, which he'd then follow-up with Ethel Merman's disco album. I think it was his version of "two great tastes don't always taste great together." (He did also sometimes play Norman's rendition of the Arlen/Harburg "Right as Rain" which was a much more creditable effort.)

Picholine used to be one of my favorite restaurants, but the last time I was there (a few years ago), it was awful. I still can't get over how unpleasant tasting the salad I had that night was.

Jean-Georges in the Trump is fabulous with fabulous prices to match. Nougatine (the coffee shop) is much more manageable and also has excellent food. The bar is lovely for a casual meal.

Shun Lee has some of the best Chinese food this side of Hong Kong, but sometimes I think it costs close to what it would cost to go to Hong Kong. Still they used to do the best eels I've ever had. (I think the eels are no longer on the regular menu, but you can still request them ahead of time).

For more casual meals, I have fond memories of Pomodoro Rosso and Josie's both of which I frequented when I lived in the area. Alice's Tea Cup also has nice soups, salads and sandwiches, and Patsy's has very good pizza and salads. Bouchon Bakery in the Time Warner Center also has things like sandwiches and Thomas Keller's famous quiches.

I think the viewers have become more discerning over the seasons and use the judges' opinions and knowledge to form their own.

I hope that viewers don't use the judges' comments to form their opinions. Bruno and Carrie Ann really know almost nothing about ballroom dancing and their comments are usually somewhere between inane and nonsensical. Len has the knowledge but his comments often aren't much better. There are a lot of basic technical issues which the judges don't address, and it's usually very obvious to me which celebrities have large fanbases based on the comments they receive vs. their performances.

I actually saw this when the Bolshoi did it at the Met a few years ago. It's actually really delightful in a "Coppelia meets Russian peasants frolicking on the collective" kind of way.

Ah, Metropolis was one of my favorite films in film class. (I'm afraid I found myself falling asleep during Rules of the Game.)

I was reminded of it again when Tarantino quoted from it, visually, in Inglourious Basterds.

Many filmmakers and artist borrow liberally from Lang and Metropolis, most notably Tim Burton who has built much of his career on cribbing from German Expressionism, often badly, but also everyone from Ridley to Madonna. The faux German Expressionist look was very popular in the 1980s.

This is the second time she has been in the Bottom Two even though she is far and away one of the most interesting celebrity dancers on this show. I can only surmise that her hardcore fan base started out weak and hasn't increased in sufficient numbers (outside of Ballet Talk!) since the start.

Unfortunately, Pam Anderson also has a new pro, and as good as Damian Whitewood is, he's coming into the competition as an unknown. The reality is that many of the established pros have fanbases of their own at this point, so any celeb who is assigned a new pro is at something of a disadvantage out of the gate. For example, Cheryl Burke is a good teacher and choreographer, but she also has a very strong loyal fanbase of her own that keeps whoever her celeb is in the competition for at least a few weeks no matter how poorly he does.

It's actually an interesting conundrum for the producers. I'm pretty sure they've been trying to launch some new pros onto the show for a while, but even though some of them have been excellent, they tend to get booted off the show quickly because it's hard for them to get traction with the fans when they have to compete with the established pros on the show.

Before its remodel, the Seattle Opera House (now called McCaw Hall) was notorious for the long lines for the women's rooms during intermission. As a critic I often get an aisle seat and so I could manage to get in line fairly quickly, but there were always women waiting in line for their turn (who had left the house promptly and not stopped off to chat or have a snack on their way to the restroom) when the bells rang for the next act.

The Hollywood Bowl used to have the same issue. It's still not great, but it's much better than it was when I was in high school and many of my friends would usher there during their summers. One of my friends had the unfortunate job one night to be stationed at the men's room to "guard" against women overrunning the men's room. I won't go into detail about what those women would do to a poor young teen-age boy to use the men's room, but suffice it to say that he still remembers.

I am glad that newer venues try to take the disparity in restroom use into account during the design phase. I've been in some venues where the panicked rush to the restrooms during intermission isn't necessary and as trivial as it sounds to some, it makes a real difference in the theatre experience.

I remember in Cuba when sometimes foreigners would be amazed and confused at the ushers request to drop their water bottles, not even to get into the auditorium, but even to make it to the theater lobby. The Lorca theater in Havana-(the ballet house)-has a patio with a café where people can have a snack during the intermezzo, but EVERYTHING has to be dropped before getting into the lobby. I guess it is also a cultural thing...as a kid one would be told to drink and go to the bathroom before performances. And if one would even TRY to sabotage a performance with an improper request, one only had to get "the look" from either parent plus "NOW YOU WAIT, AND SHUT UP!" to be quiet for the rest of the time. When I got to US I was-(and still are)-TOTALLY amazed to see all this food vending inside the theater, where one can see a huge garbage plastic container in the middle of the $400 000 000 theater lobby next to a woman wearing a $50.000 diamond ring while holding a greasy donut on her hand. Honestly...I truly don't get it...

It's all on a cultural spectrum. I remember when "Peony Pavilion" was being performed at the Lincoln Center Festival many years ago, North Americans were shocked with the jolly socializing, preserved plum-spitting and picnicking going on during the performance.

For myself, I always bring a bottle of water and a bag of sugar-free lozenges with me to the theatre to help my cough (prescription side-effect, can't be helped and never going away). Other than Chinese opera, I'm not wild on loud talking, singing along with the performance, or cell phones, but nothing else bothers me that much. I very rarely notice much of what my fellow audience members are doing.

Coughing is tricky, especially because a cough can linger for days or weeks even though you're no longer ill. But you should do everything you can to minimize it and not honk uninhibitedly.

Some common prescription drugs also have an unfortunate "dry cough" side effect. Although water and lozenges can help, it's not really possible to eliminate the side effect completely.

... My point was that to identify a film as \"Director X\'s movie\" is something of an anachronism because in old Hollywood the director did not always exert the same control over the production that he usually does today. (Some, like Hitchcock, did.) ...

I would respectfully say that I think that I think that that saying directors today have more artistic control is a major generalization. Most film critics and historians have very ambivalent feelings towards the concept of auteur theory because films by their very nature are virtually always collaborations on the part of many artists, a number whom often have significant input into the final vision and product. Arguably Chaplin is one of the very, very few who could ever really claim the title of auteur on the basis of writing, directing, starring in, and writing the music for a number of his films.

Even Hitchcock, for all of his control freak filmmaking practices, did not exert full control of all of his films, which is for example, why \"Rebecca\" is often referred to as a Selznick film rather than a Hitchcock film. Similarly, although screenwriters often aren\'t the identified artist on films, Charlie Kaufman films are almost always referred to as such although he does not direct his own work (usually Michel Gondry).

I didn't see Susan Stroman's "Contact," but as an all-dance work that was presented in a mostly straight theater venue, I wonder if there was a similar disjunction in the reviews.

I don't remember the reviews for "Conact," but I did see it in its original incarnation at the tiny Mitzi Newhouse theatre (less than 300 seats), the transferred version at the Vivian Beaumont theatre (over a thousand seats) and the video recording of the national tour of the piece. I am also very familiar with the venue and dancers that the third of the three acts is based on. By far, it was most effective in the small, Newhouse theatre. The more for-profit the production got and the larger the venues got, the more emotional intimacy and life got sucked out of it.

Mrs. Carter's daughters were 2 and 3 years ahead of me respectively in junior high and high school, and both were very active in the school's drama, music and dance departments. Despite Designing Women's schedule at the time, Mrs. Carter was very gracious in donating her time to the school in various capacities with the performing arts departments, and of course, was very supportive of the many, many productions her daughters participated in; I think one, the other or both was pretty much in every school play, musical, concert or recital until they graduated, so we saw her around school often. She will be missed.