dirac

It sounds as if this organization would like a say in hirings. The Paris National Opera pulls ads from Le Monde out of annoyance with bad reviews. Item from Agence France Presse, April 2: http://www.andante.com/article/article.cfm?id=20439

A ballerina (movies generally fail to make the distinction between a ballerina and Other Rank dancers, so I'll not do so either for our purposes here) is a romantic sort of profession in the popular mind, so it makes sense that ballerinas would show up in romantic/melodramatic movies. I'm not sure that the profession of the heroine of "Waterloo Bridge" in any of its guises is necessarily connected to her eventual taking of the primrose path. Ballerinas in movies do tend to be frail, delicate creatures, easily done in by circumstances – I think particularly of suicidal Claire Bloom in "Limelight" (dancing dubbed by Melissa Hayden) and Garbo's despairing Grusinskaya in "Grand Hotel," noted by glebb, in addition to Leigh's conscience-stricken hooker. It was Toumanova in "Torn Curtain." I imagine that both she and Newman would like to forget all about it, however. You should check out "Grand Hotel," glebb. It's MGM deploying a troupe of major stars as a sort of Spanish Armada in an ensemble drama, the ladies are in Adrian -- it's very enjoyable. They don't make 'em like that any more...... The most recent example is, I think, Almodovar's "Talk to Me," which features Leonor Watling as a ballet student, albeit a comatose one, and Geraldine Chaplin as her teacher. Chaplin gets a great last line. Upon being told that something is really quite simple, she responds, "I'm a ballet mistress. Nothing is simple."

I saw the Thursday performance in Berkeley, with Bridget Breiner as Juliet and Jiri Jelinek as Romeo. I noted a couple of supporting dancers but my program isn't with me and I can only add the name of Robert Conn as Tybalt right now. The Zellerbach is not my favorite place for ballet, either, especially for a production of this size (there was some bumping into the scenery), and the floor made the women dancers sound like clomping Clydesdales. I thought the orchestra was okay for the most part but things were a little chancy in spots, and I don't know if it can be attributed to the rigors of touring, but the dancing wasn't all it might have been to this inexpert eye. It's always hard for me not to compare any R&J ballet unfavorably to Shakespeare. (Yes,yes, I know, the text is Prokofiev and not WS, but I can't help it. Also, my Berkeley program reads "after William Shakespeare" so I feel I'm justified.) Example: after Romeo has killed Tybalt and my mind immediately conjures, "O, I am fortune's fool" instead I usually get Lady Capulet having a fit that goes on for much too long -- here, she flung herself on Tybalt's corpse. This is bad for two reasons. One, it comes out of nowhere (but I suppose the choreographer(s) are simply doing Prokofiev's bidding?) and two, the big story at this juncture is Romeo and his exile – the title of the thing is not "Tybalt and Lady C," after all. The reduction of Friar Laurence is a problem. In Shakespeare, he's crucial – he has a lot to say, and comes out at the end to provide the postgame wrapup after everyone's dead – and here he's just a plot device, and a very limited one. (I much prefer the Lavrovsky friar, as seen in my video, to this one, though. Sometimes I wonder if I just don't like Lavrovsky better, period. Yes, it's dated. Yes, it's a silent movie. I don't care.) In brief: Like Giannina, I do like the sets. I especially enjoyed the black-and-gold Pillow Dance – it looks just like the music – and the balcony scene is very pretty. Jeez, all the lifts. I was prepared, of course, but they strike me afresh every time. (I thought Breiner and Jelinek had a little bit of trouble here.

Doesn't "pudgy" have a slightly negative connotation? I thought she looked beautiful!

I agree with you wholeheartedly, glebb, and refer you to our Oscars thread, but again I must remind everyone to Stay on Topic Course. Thanks to all!

Well, the Oscars are about money (and politics, and prestige), beginning with the financial numbers for television, where it's known alternatively as the Women's Super Bowl (and the Gay Super Bowl). The numbers aren't quite up there with the SB, but they are big enough. The Oscars are also supposed to help at the box office, but there's some disagreement about this. Traditionally, nominees are helped by their studios – lobbying efforts, special events held for Academy members, and so forth. This can hurt nominees from films from the same studio, because then the institutional effort is divided (as happened this year, when Rob Marshall and Martin Scorsese received nominations for movies from the same source). Lobbying efforts that are too naked can backfire. A notorious example until recently was Berry Gordy's aggressive efforts on behalf of Diana Ross for "Lady Sings the Blues" -- people were turned off, and she lost when she might very well have won. The wins for "The Pianist" have been interpreted as part of a backlash against Miramax (too much to go into here and too far from our topic). And "The Pianist" was in its way a well-connected movie – Polanski has lots of pals from way back when. However, the Academy has shown an inclination to reward movies that reflect – I wouldn't say art so much as respectability. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. It gives Hollywood a chance to show the world that Money Isn't Everything, and it gives exposure to good films that might not reach a larger audience – "The Pianist" has been playing at multiplexes it would never have got to without all those nominations. (You could also argue, though, that it's a way of relieving bad consciences – they can produce dreck for most of the year, release a few Prestige Productions in time for the Oscars, and congratulate themselves for their efforts.) I think you're right, Calliope. Kidman was probably exhausted at having to get up every fifteen minutes or so for yet another ovation. You may be right, GWTW. Kidman will have to give out the Best Actor award next year, so she'll have to keep her fingers crossed , I guess. Assuming, for the moment, my role as board cop, I'd suggest to people with inquiries of the "Has anyone seen Such-and-Such?" type to please begin a new topic. There's plenty of room for new threads, and could lead to long and fruitful discussions. Thanks!

Interesting, I heard the same anecdote, only it was San Francisco Opera. I am sorry for her. This isn't artistic temperament, it's self-destruction.

Yuan Yuan Tan had a big success in it at the most recent SFB gala. The high point of the evening for this observer.

Oh yes, I forgot about that. His speech was all right. I still have a hunch that if he hadn't won for playing in a wartime drama, it might have been regarded as slightly self-indulgent rather than the highlight of the evening, and for me there was a bit of a disconnect, "Okay, now that I've pawed this hot babe, I'm going to talk to you about how war is bad and peace is good." I'm sure he didn't mean it that way. I think you may be right, EJohnson, but doesn't the line still smack a wee bit of "Hey, I'm entitled to this."? But perhaps we've devoted enough time and thought to analysis of the incident. Also, there were more standing ovations than usual. At least several. You'd have thought there was some kind of buzzer going off periodically in the seats. I noted that Kidman, after looking around, got up for Brody very slowly, so for one reason or another she may not have been impressed, either.

I think LOTR is much better than Star Wars, which I thought was kind of cartooonish and cheesy at the time. Time will tell, of course. I think Mel is right -- if the next one is a whopper, and nothing overwhelming shows up in October, Jackson and company should go home happy next year. Alexandra, which "goody bag" comment was in poor taste?

nlkflint, we've had several "muse"-related threads in the past. Here are a couple, just so you can see how people have commented on the subject, and do feel free to add your own remarks! On Balanchine, Farrell, and other muses of his: http://www.balletalert.com/forum/showthrea...&highlight=muse On a recent book, "Lives of the Muses": http://www.balletalert.com/forum/showthrea...&highlight=muse

I confess I did not much care for LOTR, but this is a case where I thought my own personal taste might be the issue – Just Not My Thing, in other words. Of its kind, I think it's a first-rate example. I meant by the Academy having to acknowledge it that a cycle of films on this scale with the degree of success it has had is the kind of thing that the Oscars haven't ignored in the past. I suspect the next segment will have a much higher profile next year. I'd be interested to hear from anyone who thought, like Mitchell, that it ought to have won this time around. The segment Alexandra mentions was indeed ghoulish. (I changed the channel intermittently.) From the winners' point if view, I suppose it's nice in a way – no matter if Kidman, et al., eventually fade into obscurity, because they won they'll be exhumed from time to time to appear. Not fun viewing for the rest of us, however. It reminded me of "Sunset Boulevard," where William Holden refers to Gloria Swanson's bridge guests as "the waxworks." Very often people will win in the "wrong" year (or not at all). Sometimes it's a "body of work" award, other times the Academy is saying, We should have given it to you last time, so here it is this time. If I remember correctly, Caine's Alfie lost to Paul Scofield's Thomas More. Scofield was admirable but I do think Caine was better. Oh, well --

This is a question viewers of Fosse's original staging would be best equipped to answer, but can the new "Chicago" really be described as Fosse in the age of MTV, or is the conception crucially different from his in any respect? From descriptions I've read I can see apparent major differences,but it would be interesting to hear about this in detail from an eyewitness. The ventriloquist number was effective, I agree, and I thought Zellweger was at her best there.

Well, we're actually working from a definition of the auteur that's been considerably modified from the original concept, which was pretty extreme. Polanski can't really be said to have acted as an auteur in the sense sandik was using the term on "The Pianist" – for one thing, the script is not his (and I think it's a major weak point, Oscar notwithstanding – this is one category where I might have favored The Hours, for structural reasons). However, he doubtless controlled the production and the choice of and approach to the material is closely related to his previous work, (and I'd include"Chinatown" ). And I think a case could even be made for "Chinatown" as superior to "The Pianist," although I don't know that I would necessarily agree with it in the end. The only auteur in the modern European sense in Hollywood has been Woody Allen. I can think of no precedent offhand in the U.S. for the amount of independence he has had. Maybe Chaplin. Elvis Mitchell, chief critic for The New York Times, thought "The Two Towers" should have gotten the top prize. I don't agree, but I do see what he means. (He'll have to wait until next year, when, barring some act of God, the LOTR cycle will likely receive the acknowledgment the Academy knows it owes it.)

It's all in fun, Calliope. I saw only a brief clipping of the press conferences, so I know little of what was said, but Berry's facial expression at the Moment was pretty eloquent, I thought. I don't know about Nicole's dad, but if I were Nicole's son, I might have said something later like,"Uh, Mom? I know I wasn't in the audience or anything, and you won for starring in a chick flick, but gee…" Mel, from what I've heard, Mostel used to do things like that onstage, especially during the end of long runs when he was getting really bored.

Closing this thread -- moved Ed's post to the "Chicago" thread already established. My apologies for moving your stuff around, Ed.

Ed, forgive the presumption, but I'm copying your excellent post in its entirety and adding it to this thread, closing your new one for continuity's sake: Ed's post: Bob Fosse in the era of MTV—“Chicago” Something I wrote a few months ago. There are plenty of good dancers in “Chicago” especially those featured in the six murderesses number. Ekaterina Shelkanova was a soloist with the ABT. Denise Faye began dancing on Broadway ten years ago. Mya Harrison (who should be forgiven for her part in the dreadful “Lady Marmalade in “Moulin Rouge”) studied tap with Savion Glover. The movie depicts a universe that partially parallels our own, in which men abuse, beat up, cheat on and generally annoy women. In the world of “Chicago”, though, the women they prey upon are quick to deal with these men. They are shot, (the most typical form of dispatch) garroted, stabbed, poisoned, and pushed from windows. And as Mama Morton (Queen Latifah) says, “I never knew a man who got killed who didn’t deserve it.” None of the three stars, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Renee Zellweger and Richard Gere, are good singers or dancers. They are, however, movie stars and occupy the screen as such. The choreography and editing take care of the dancing, while digital doubling and tripling of the voice tracks allows them to sing. Men are best cast—Gere may be the most self-satisfied mature actor in Hollywood and is perfect as the impossibly smug lawyer Billy Flynn. John C. Riley is almost too good as the long-suffering and gullible Amos Hart. Taye Diggs carries off the thankless role bandleader and Greek chorus and Colm Feore, a stalwart at Ontario’s Stratford Shakespeare Festival, is properly reptilian as the Assistant District Attorney. On the distaff side, Queen Latifah obviously needs little vocal digital enhancement. She also seems to enjoy her role, playing it for all the campy gusto it has. Zeta-Jones, with her Louise Brooks bob, is the epitome of a femme fatale. The director, Rob Marshall, who is also credited first among the four choreographers, wisely did not let the camera linger on her for too long when she was in the same frame as professional dancers. As an audience we have become used to frenetic editing and jump cuts, so it is less obvious than it would have been in years past. She does move well and has a terrific body—like a stripper from the 1950s or a leading actress from the 1940s. Lily St. Cyr, or Rita Hayworth, for example. She has a throaty, smoky dramatic mezzo—almost a contralto—without much upper extension, but not much is needed in the keys in which she sings. She has the best singing voice of the three leading players, has a good sense of rhythm and knows what syllables in what words to emphasize. Zellweger’s voice is another matter entirely. Her singing sounds as if it would be unpleasant without digital enhancement and sweetening. It is very “white”—no vibrato almost like an English choirboy’s voice but lacking the beauty. A squawky tone with no breath support. Given that all her songs can be delivered with the Broadway “belt” voice, it isn’t too bad. Gere doesn’t really sing, but he places his voice well and knows how to sell a song. The structure of constantly cutting between musical numbers and the depressing, tawdry and mean “real” life that they reflect is shockingly effective at first, with Zeta-Jones on stage, having just shot her husband and Zellweger shooting the cad who has seduced and abandoned her. Or attempted to abandon her—he is shot dead before he gets out the door. But since every number (except the six murderesses) is cut this way, it becomes a bit of a bore by the end. There was only one great number—“They both reached for the gun”, in which Gere becomes a ventriloquist with Zellweger sitting on his knee as his dummy and the press corps become puppets whose strings he pulls. A note about the death and revival of movie musicals—there have been several movies recently that could be called musicals, in the sense that there are musical performances throughout the film, generally integrated into the action but sometimes just dropped in. Among them are “8 Mile”, “Drumline” and O Brother Where Art Thou”. “8 Mile” was a huge hit here in Motown and did well elsewhere. “Drumline” was marketed to an African-American audience, “O Brother” was pitched as a semi-art house movie, like most those done by the Coen brothers. __________________ "While Stavinsky is much more tied to the Gods, Prokofiev is friendly with the Devils." --Sergei Diaghilev, interviewed in The Observer (London)

Well, that can depend very much on the choreographer, his methods and manner. In the matter of coaching, when Suzanne Farrell teaches one of her roles, I have read that she also tells the stories and makes the points that Balanchine made to her – the intangibles that make the steps part of an expressive whole. It may be imperfect, but it beats hell out of video. It's true, I suppose, that no one can hold every single detail of a ballet in his or her head, but so far the passing of choreography and style person-to-person through the generations -- that is, if it's through the right people—has been the best way. The pros can address this issue much better than I can, however. There's a nice little scene in the film "The Turning Point" that illustrates this in a very simple way. The great Alexandra Danilova is sitting at a table with Starr Danias, Leslie Browne, and Anne Bancroft (as a senior ballerina facing retirement) and points around the table to each woman, saying, "From me to you, and then to you, and then to you" – signifying the passage of an old tradition to girls born in a country younger than the art form itself.

Very true, Estelle. BilboBaggins, here are a couple of links to introductory sights about Labanotation, to give you an idea of how one of these methods works: http://www.rz.uni-frankfurt.de/~griesbec/LABANE.HTML http://www.whc.net/bhsdance/html/labanotation.html

The key thing would be to have the works, somehow. Even if the festival didn't work, or wasn't on the grand scale Massine would wish, they'd still be out there. I would love to see a couple of the big symphonic ballets, even if they didn't work. glebb, I liked him in "The Red Shoes," too. Yes, it's a silly role, but he's still a striking presence. When I first saw the movie, I had no notion of who any of these people were except for Anton Walbrook, but as soon as I saw Massine I thought, "who's that?" (As opposed to Helpmann, about whom I thought, what's he doing there, couldn't they get a real dancing lead?) And that moment at the end, when the ballerina is dead and the show goes on without her, he holds out the shoes as if to say, "Who's next? Who'll take the chance?" and for me it's one of those eerie indelible moments.

Renee Graham of the Boston Globe expresses doubts about the revival of the movie musical as exemplified by "Chicago" – that is, eventually they'll need genuine singers and dancers, won't they? (She was a big fan of Zeta-Jones, too): http://www.boston.com/dailyglobe2/084/livi...musicals+.shtml Giannina, I think you're right about Gere. He had the style, he had the manner, he had a better understanding of the concept than either of the girls. Now, if he could only tap dance.

I was struck by something Paul Parish posed on the SFB thread, specifically by this quote: I think this is absolutely true, and one of the experiences that ballet can give you that no other art quite can, at least not in the same way. Sometimes, as Paul (and Ballet Nearby) also noted, these epiphanies can come from unexpected places -- the glint of light off a dancer's toe shoes, the passage of a scarf through the air as it follows the arc of a dancer's arm. Does anyone else have this kind of memory? If so, do tell.....

Additional thoughts on the Smooch. Since what is good for the gander is good for the goose, and this year's Best Actor has to present the award to the Best Actress next year, I suggest that a way to be found for Renee Asherson, who played the ancient medium in The Others, to win the Oscar next time around. She charges the stage and deposits a big long wet kiss on Brody, with the post-awards explanation that, "I've always had a thing for skinny gawky guys from Queens, so I went for it." (By suggesting the foregoing, I mean no disrespect to the still-striking Miss Asherson, who was a ravishing Princess Katherine of France to Olivier's Henry V.)

I agree, sandik. There's a definite difference between directors like Almodovar, and Woody Allen in this country, who write, direct, and otherwise control every aspect of their films in the classic auteur sense. (And I miss the early Almodovar.) Polanski and Scorsese are powerful and individual directors, and Scorsese is a great one – I don't know if I'd call Polanski great -- whose influence dominates their productions, but it's not quite the same thing. You do have a point, Hans. If Brody hadn't been so obviously stunned and if he hadn't won for a movie set in wartime, I suspect his conduct and speech wouldn't have been quite so well received. (I actually don't think much of stars who bully the orchestra conductor, who's doing his job as instructed. But I'm willing to cut Brody more slack than Julia Roberts in this respect, who really embarrassed herself the year she won for Erin Brockovich.)

I'm not sure that the numbers necessarily make a difference (and it's routine in profiles of male athletes and dancers, also). As for negative comparisons, all the girls have to do is look at the photographs throughout the magazine, unfortunately.