dirac

If Amazon doesn't have it, I think www.moviesunlimited.com has it in VHS for about the price you're looking for.

Croce's objection to the peignoir wasn't merely that the donning of it was a contrivance -- getting those ribbons on the floor to be kissed -- but that the kiss itself suggested that Beliaev's true affections are reserved for Natalya -- something that Turgenev had left deliberately unclear (and that's correct, at least in my translation by Isaiah Berlin -- Beliaev isn't insensitive to the feelings of others and he may care for Natalya, but he doesn't really comprehend the turmoil he's created among the women). I haven't seen the ballet and so can't comment. There's also a lengthy discussion of the ballet in Julie Kavanagh's "Secret Muses."

silvy, the piece is in her first collection "Afterimages" which I think is out of print. I don't recall seeing it in the selection of essays "Writing in the Dark, Dancing in The New Yorker," of a few years ago, but it might be there.

Forgot to mention Errol Morris' deeply tacky acceptance speech, wherein he thanked the Academy for "finally recognizing my films!" (I didn't like the way his movie let McNamara get away with all those disingenuous evasions, either.)

I'm not inclined to be too hard on the ladies – sometimes I think the talk about fashion, although generally harmless, can border on the misogynistic (doesn't matter whether it's a man or woman doing the commenting). Can't help noticing there's less preoccupation with how the men look – heaven help Sofia Coppola if she had turned up as the feminine equivalent of Peter Jackson, who looked like something pulled out of a drainpipe, assuming that he could have fit into the drainpipe. Geez, Peter, I was happy that you won, but you could have combed your hair for the occasion. That said, I agree with Ed that Kidman needs a new stylist, or something. This was an improvement on the bag-lady outfit she wore at the Golden Globes, but. Also, her upper arms are looking scarily thin, and her face looks sort of laminated. I caught Far and Away on cable not long ago, and even accounting for the passage of time, I must say I miss that fresh and original-looking girl. I thought Renee looked great, incidentally, but then I applaud any woman who can wear solid white without looking like a white board. If I had a body like Theron's I'd certainly show it off, but on the other hand it might be nice to see her in something not sprayed on once in awhile. Mel Gibson, usually a regular, notable this time for his absence. Gosh, wonder why? Rather a dull show, as mentioned. Awareness of the five-second delay seemed to keep everyone on his best behavior, except that "best behavior" at awards shows often means "boring." No big surprises, which didn't help, either. Charlize, I know everyone said you were a lock, but you could have tried to look just a little more surprised. Pleased to see ROTK make a deserved clean sweep. Enjoyed the shots of Eastwood planted in his seat, looking grim. (Some of us haven't forgiven you for Bird, Clint.) Penn certainly is entitled to his award, but I had been rooting for Bill Murray -- Penn will have other chances, but this was Murray's first and last shot at it, I think. My tape missed the first half hour or so, so there may have been people I didn't see, but the show seemed exceptionally lacking in senior stars – no Paul Newman, no Nicholson, etc. I felt the absence of Gregory Peck, who could be counted upon to lend gravitas to the often absurd goings on, and the tribute to him only emphasized the gap. I saw the Billy Crystal montage later on and must confess I didn't find it funny. I quite liked Ferrell and Black's "Boring" number, though. I still miss the horrible Paula Abdul dance numbers, too. What's the Oscars without a little camp?

I closed out the nominations thread and am starting a new one for anyone who would like to share his/her impressions of Sunday evening's entertainment, which will include, let us hope, some recognition of actual artistic achievement.

Also referring back to TutuMaker's movies post, I agree the situation can be very similar. I can usually find something sufficiently interesting in even the worst movie to make it watchable to the end, although there were a couple -- "Meet Joe Black" and "Disney's The Kid" spring to mind -- that I would have dumped if my companions hadn't wanted to stay. We've talked about recommending books to a friend who didn't like it, but for me it can be even more awkward when your friend LOVED the book or movie and you thought it was awful. In the former case, you can often be discreet and not share your feelings, but in the latter case, you can be put in the position of actually having to lie your head off in order to be polite.

Elvis Mitchell of The New York Times is unimpressed: http://movies2.nytimes.com/2004/02/27/movies/27DIRT.html (reg. req.) I'll probably check it out anyway if only for the sake of Diego Luna. I didn't think it would be good, but one always hopes.......

Well, temperament sometimes goes too far and turns into plain bad behavior, but that does seem to come with the territory, although I don't make excuses for it. (I tend to forgive Nureyev almost everything because it's all so much duller without him. With him around, ballet made headlines -- one way or another!) In her autobiography, Karen Kain recounts a story in her otherwise admiring and deeply grateful account of working with Nureyev of a disastrous Sleeping Beauty where the audience apparently did just that, perky. Briefly, Nureyev hurt his foot backstage kicking something in a fit of pique and didn't want to continue with the performance. However, his alternates had headed out to a movie so it was Rudi or no prince. Nureyev finished the performance but in a manner so nakedly resentful and perfunctory that the audience expressed its unhappiness in no uncertain terms. Kain says he didn't arrive on cue for the Awakening scene wouldn't even give her the kiss – just bent over slightly and made a loud smack. She also mentions that he wouldn't kiss any Aurora who made the error of wearing lip gloss.

dido, I know what you mean about taking it personally. Sometimes, with books (or movies) that are close to our hearts, it's very difficult when a friend doesn't respond. One of my favorite books is Saul Bellow's Seize the Day, and one day I brought it up with a well-read acquaintance, who said "Oh yes, that was something about some loser with father troubles." I didn't say anything about how I felt about the book, but it was hard for me not to let that lower my friend in my estimation.

I can't imagine booing, but I'd suggest that if performers occasionally receive ecstatic vocal receptions, they should also be prepared to endure the opposite every once in awhile. That's showbiz.

I'd suggest that one's approach should vary depending on factors such as age and development of taste. These days, I don't spend any time persisting with a book that doesn't grab me beyond a chapter or two. However -- had I taken that line when I was very young and my judgment and taste were still relatively unformed, I would have missed out on a lot of good and great stuff. Giving up on an airplane read such as The Da Vinci Code is one thing, discarding Ulysses after chapter one is another. I'm not saying you're not at liberty to toss aside Ulysses or some of the Great Unreadables, like Richardson's Clarissa, but not after you've made an honest attempt, and this is especially true for younger readers. Your taste can change, too, or sometimes the writers change. I used to grab the latest Philip Roth hot off the presses, but my experience with his recent work is that it's unlikely to enhance my reading pleasure, and so I don't bother. However, I regard that as his fault, not mine.

Not to suggest that Tallchiefs come with the mail, but I wonder if Balanchine more or less allowed the line to expire once he was breeding enough tall girls with the speed and clarity he wanted? Although there was Kirkland, the one that got away. (I know, she looked waiflike as all getout, but on the films I've seen she's a tigress in disguise.) Back to Bouder, sorry.

As I'm on the other coast, I can't comment on Bouder, but Marie-Jeanne was another small dancer with a lot of oomph, going by the roles Balanchine made for her.

I was puzzled by the "wasted as Florine" comment, too. It wasn't a long review, and maybe Dunning didn't have enough space to elucidate. However, the "so-and-so was wasted as thus-and-such" construction, a familiar one, generally means what Alexandra says – that the role isn't big enough or good enough. Clearly wrong in this case – it's not like giving Fairchild a walk-on as the maid, which is the impression I'd get from this if I wasn't familiar with the ballet.

tempusfugit, I figured you were speaking of the Weslow interview, since you mentioned it earlier. I was only commenting that I had another in mind when I brought up the book.

Let's call it good bad taste.

Yes, there were those shows that seemed to last as long as World War II, and left you just as shellshocked. I also enjoy seeing the editors and the sound guys get their moment in the sun, but there is definitely a limit. One thing I do miss about those older shows is the flagrant bad taste of the evening gowns. With a few exceptions, you rarely see a lady with that Cher/Geena Davis damn-the-torpedoes flair these days. Everyone tries to be conservative and tasteful, more or less, making me long for the days when the fashions were not internationalized and Nolan Miller and Bob Mackie dominated the scene.

Simon, I wonder how many critics have secretly wanted to say just that? tempusfugit, I wasn't thinking of Weslow's interview, entertaining as it was. Someone else said that eliminating the birth scene emphasized the neoclassic style of the piece and made it less bound to its time and that was a likely reason why Balanchine snipped it. We should remember, also, that he may have had any number of reasons for doing what he did. The late Robert Garis had some interesting things to say on a certain ambivalence Balanchine occasionally showed toward Stravinsky, which he suggested might have emerged in forms such as the radical noodling with "Firebird" and the trimming of "Apollo." According to "Holding On to the Air" Farrell queried him about the cutting of the score of "Apollo" with the observation, "You don't usually cut music like that." He allowed as how he didn't. End of discussion.

One of the devices television shows on their last legs resort to is the bringing in of "name" guest stars like Duchovny and Baryshnikov. In its glory days, the show didn't need that. I thought Petrovsky came off quite well in comparison to Carrie, until the writers began stacking the deck so you had to dislike him, which backfired on occasion. You had no idea what would bring these two together in the first place, and there was zero chemistry between the two actors, which I didn't think was Baryshnikov's fault – Parker's performance has become increasingly self-regarding, and I assume they knew when they hired him that he wasn't exactly Cary Grant with a quip.

Simon G's point about Apollo also crops up in a couple of the recollections in "I Remember Balanchine" where it was suggested by someone, I forget whom, that Balanchine cut the scenes that were more obviously products of their era, although expressionism wasn't mentioned.

He really wasn't bad, but his character existed only as power boyfriend and plot point – he went from being an oversolicitous Mr. Romantic in the early episodes to Robert Mitchum in Cape Fear. Very odd, but they needed to wrap things up fast, I guess. Farrell Fan, thank you for providing another view. I thought the writers had it in for Miranda, myself.

My ex- favorite show concluded not with a bang but a whimper, as it were. Tears, rather -- this was the most lachrymosal 45 minutes I've seen in a series not in the category of "daytime drama." I stuck it out to the bitter end, even though this last mini-season wasn't so much Sex and the City as a made-for-Lifetime soap opera. Baryshnikov, after lavishing all manner of expensive gifts on our heroine, turns neglectful brute and slaps her, causing her to run into the arms of Chris Noth. The End.

The producer of this year's show says there will be no time limit on acceptance speeches this year. More time for the stars to open mouth, insert foot. Goody! http://www.nbc4.tv/entertainment/2862742/detail.html

The Agon pas de deux as performed by Farrell and Martins can also be seen on a video made in the seventies and released commercially -- "Peter Martins: A Dancer" (recollecting title from memory).