papeetepatrick

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/05/theater/...tml?ref=theater Here's the link to the whole article, which needs to be read to know how extraordinary an event Lupone's Momma Rose became in the immediate days following, building up to ferocious differences in opinion, such as a Playgoer reviewer saying 'was Ben Brantley on crack?' Bart--No, I didn't feel any of the sensations described here. I thought the big moments were the best, and the smaller moments were better in terms of the supporting players, as the older June--a very acerbic one as played by Leigh Ann Larkin. What the non-enthusiasts seem to want is an almost classical purity since this show is probably the greatest single American musical--which even Brantley conceded you could see on display in this production. If Lupone gets into some sense of 'burlesque' herself, as I believe Isherwood indicated to be his perception, I don't think that's inappropriate given that the film is about both vaudeville and burlesque and Momma Rose is not exactly what one might by any stretch of the imagination be termed 'someone subtle.' The show itself is close to perfect, but to me all the flaws were in the cheap look of the sets and costumes, and the inability to slow down tempi. But then someone with a powerful stage presence like Lupone is bound to not be to everyone's taste. I definitely thought it was the big moments that were triumphant, and the end of 'Rose's Turn' was like something usually associated only with a great hugely-egoed opera singer. Dirac--I still wonder about this 'too big for the screen' thing, and I think I don't really believe it myself, even though you and sidwich both have mentioned it vis-a-vis Ethel Merman and others. I recently watched Patti Lupone in the video of 'Sweeney Todd', so doesn't a video of a live performance give you at least something of an idea of what might be between the actually stage event (being there) and a film? If anything, it's that she hasn't got precisely the same kind of big personal and business-savvy power that Barbra Streisand had, because Streisand as 'Funny Girl' was as big as it gets--and yet she went on to do quite a number of Hollywood musicals, both adaptation and original. And she was huge in 'Funny Girl' and 'Hello Dolly' and 'Yentl' (and quite a bit less in 'On a Clear Day' IMO, which I find dreadful in the extreme.) There may be some business thing that can't quite be translated. But 'Evita' needed a bigger-than-life persona, and I thought it amounted to little or nothing with Madonna. Ethel Merman did a good number of movies back in the 30s and 40s and was able to disappear well-enough in some of them; she didn't overpower anything. She then belted out 'There's No Business Like Show Business' in that show, and it was as big as it needed to be, not really 'too big.' I guess I just can't see this as a problem.

Yes, it's pretty bad, especially decrying his 'power to entertain', which is something that never popped into my mind, and that is not associated with the great European filmmakers; but neither can I see it as anything but more abundance. I wouldn't think of the adjective 'entertaining' for Bergman quite as quickly as I would for, say, Luchino Visconti (I find 'the Damned' overwhelmingly entertaining), but that's actually the one thing I got from the article, although I'll be able to use it for better purpose IMO. The argument is not quite as cartoonlike as some I've recently read by the Brookings Institution, but it may be that he is allergic to Bergman the same way I am to Woody Allen. I don't doubt Allen's talent and ability to entertain, because many people obviously are. But I have never seen a single film of Woody Allen that I liked; something of the personality that I cannot keep from finding odious and insincere always comes through. And even though in the autobio 'the Magic Lantern', there is demonstrated something of the pinched cruelty in his meeting with Garbo--in which he literally revels, as if having discovered America or something, in letting us know that 'her mouth was ugly'--I still find many of the Bergman films moving and even beautiful. Even the cleverest Woody Allen films, such as 'the Purple Rose of Cairo' leave me cold and totally unmoved. So Allen's interest in Bergman is not an angle I am ever in touch with. I was ranting on after finally watching 'Annie Hall' recently, and someone said something 'Interiors' being such an attempt at the Bergmanesque. I said 'well, it doesn't show', although I was only saying that I couldn't stand that movie either.

YES! ESP lives! Just last Tuesday I was telling a friend at lunch about that scene and how I couldn't imagine any two tougher divas doing the ultimate of this kind of scene--but that I also thought they must have done umpteen thousand takes and still Hayward couldn't quite get all the amusement out of her face from watching Davis. To wit: Hayward: 'Mother, why do have to make it sound so dirty?' Davis: "You have devoted your life to muddt andt fildth!!!!"

It's always driven out art, but art has also always been able to hold its own. I know what you mean, but I think I see it as a normal process--after all, we need not pretend the class system is not still alive and well. Now, we even have another NYTimes bone to pick since yesterday--tee hee, of course, not really, you were linking to an article about religiosity, I'm referring to the A.O. Scott article. I just looked at that Bergman/Antonioni article, and begin to think that it's some of the journalistic standards I find vulgar--as in 'Before Them, Films Were Just Movies', which is such hype and silly nonsense (in fact, it is vulgar in the extreme) I was unable to bring myself to read any further, as much as I am glad that I have spent a lot more time on both directors than I have on Paris Hilton. I don't think that's at all imperfect. A perfectly grilled hot dog is anything but vulgar, and couldn't qualify as a guilty pleasure. On the other hand, a Whopper, Jr. could, as could Snickers and Milky Ways. When I wrote earlier, I couldn't find in the food arena anything truly low I like, although I used to. But you shouldn't. We need to struggle with these issues if we are to build a better world.

I already said I didn't have any guilt about any of my pleasure--and I don't--but I see that term does have a specific social meaning, so I'll respect that and see if I can't get some Low Pleasures humming, even if I'm shameless. Well, I find Paris Hilton a good comedienne--off-screen. She's zany and always floozily and unconsciously comes up with something funny, like throwing the 80 cents at the newsvendor because of the porno movie, screaming 'That's MINE!' and getting a misdemeanour charge for it, that was then dropped. I usually follow the basics if I see a headline, and during the incarceration wanted to know all the minutiea about unfair cellphones and bologna sandwiches. Find her amusing because don't think she's an addict like the other starlet party people--she was born into the milieu so doesn't need sedation from all that dreamtime business. I don't even really find Iggy Pop vulgar, considering all of it's necessary--just inspiring, sexy and a genius libertine--he just never left the Garden of Eden. Also love his alter ego, David Bowie, but nothing but talent there either except when he says silly things and does dumb art shows like one I recently saw. I like motorcycle movies from the early 70s like 'Run Angel Run', 'Chrome & Hot Leather', and 'Angels Die Hard'. Also like some Russ Meyer movies, esp. 'Vixen' and 'Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.'

More the Iggy Pop type of vulgar. He's one of my role models.

That's the problem. I don't feel guilty about them, but figured out that I was supposed to...

Yes, if they do one, they mustn't leave out Mae West, but who can really do a real Mae West either? The only time I really found this kind of screen bio to work was Mommie Dearest, but I have heard many raves about 'La Vie en Rose' before the discussion today. Sian Phillips did Marlene some 15-17 years ago, I believe? A close friend of mine was a Marlene freak and was always sitting in the front row of her shows and got to know her somewhat--but did like Sian Phillips. On the other hand, she's now 74, so she could do a picture about the late period, which was mostly sad, because she was bedridden for so much of it. For those buying CD's of Piaf, I did notice something recently. I have an old LP of her in the last few years of her life from the Olympia--with Theo Sarapo. But the CDs of her earlier career are truly more beautiful, there is a great difference in the strength of her voice when young. The song 'A Quoi Ca Sert, L'Amour' with Sarapo, her charming companion, is very nice, but you'll hear better 'Je ne Regrette Rien' and 'Milord' and 'Histoire de l'Amour' in some of the oldest recordings. Don't forget 'Le Diable de la Bastille' and 'La Musique a Tout Va' and 'Le Petit Brouillard'.

http://www.silive.com/newsflash/metro/inde...orylist=simetro

I've been listening to 'Milord' myself on an older recording--am mad for this song..'Je suis une fille du port, l'ombre de la rue...'. Also 'Je Sais Comment', over and over. I've been afraid to see the film, because I have a hard time imagining anybody doing Piaf, no matter how good. I heard they were going to do a Marlene Dietrich movie, too, and it was originally going to be Gwyneth Paltrow, and I didn't want anybody to do Marlene either. I guess it's all her voice in the songs, though, isn't it?

Yes, I realized I hadn't any right to say that anyone but myself was a 'snob', although I was using it in a more lighthearted way than it may have come off! After all, we both have superb taste, and--in addition--I have what is often considered some very vulgar taste as well... Appreciate the good humour, though, and attentive response.

Thanks for writing, glebb. This interests me a great deal, because I think Roz is stupendously good too, and that the movie is vastly underrated. The Merman sting in the singing voice is missed, but there's such a long history of controversial castings of Broadway shows--and people get upset when the stage star is not used (often understandably). You may have seen the thread on the upcoming movie of 'Sweeney Todd'. I recently watched the video of the concert version from 2000 or thereabouts, and I can't see why Lupone has never been given a chance in a big movie part--and that would have been just the one. I don't believe she couldn't do it, and think she could have definitely turned 'Evita' into something worth watching, which I don't think it is. Madonna is too small-persona for the part, is not possessed enough with these manias to become that big.

With all due respect, I told you what I do, which is I do it or I don't. Also, I thought cubanmiamiboy's contribution was excellent, because it pointed out the difference in 'Cuban tribal-consumerists' as opposed to 'London tribal consumerists', the latter with whom Brantley wishes to identify. Just because Londoners are reserved about standing ovations doesn't mean they're not 'tribal consumerists' too. Well, it sounds like a pretentious formulation to me, one that deals him quite back into human nature rather than out of it, if that's where he was hoping his preening would take him. Not that I think any of this is really serious, it's nothing if not commonplace--but vaguely amusing. Certainly you do not, and I have nothing against snobbery. Snobbery is probably like everything else, we have different tastes in our snobbisms. You and I are clearly both snobs, so it's hardly a problem. I suppose you could call it that. Brantley wrote: (“Was it worth a hundred bucks? Sure, I gave it a standing ovation.”) The Adorno passage I was talking about was how the person buying the expensive ticket to Toscanini enjoyed the 'spent money' more than the music in its 'pure form'. This would mean that everyone suffers from such 'human nature' except for the paid critic who, in Marxist terms, suffered no contamination from the 'exchange value'--since such would then certainly apply to those who bought the Kyra Nichols Farewell Tickets off eBay for $500 or paid $700 for Barbra Streisand tickets; they had better be adjudged as incapable of making an objective decision; and this delusion ought to surely grow in direct proportion to the amount paid. What about: 'Was it worth a hundred bucks? NO!!' Happens all the time, and unless the research is done, one may assume that it happens possibly as often as his smug little formulations. (In any case, the London version would have to be 'Was it worth a hundred bucks? I don't know, but it is still a fact that I paid that much.") Neither his privilege nor the lack of it 'invalidates his criticism'. I find that he does that in any number of ways, but I am not too concerned with what his irritation might be turned into--it might stay in a pure state for all I know.

I agree, too, but don't have any problem sitting if I don't think something deserves it, except occasionally when it was so political I would have lost employment (literally) if I hadn't. There's no point in getting self-destructive about something that is not that vital to one's existence, or even self-respect. Thank you, kfw, for bringing this to our attention. I find it quite as insufferable as much of Brantley's writing. It's not only written in a silly and offensive way, purely for snob appeal, it also indicates he may have read Adorno badly, but knew it might be recognizable, you know, the 'tickets to Toscanini' part. Maybe getting free tickets helps the mature critic to understand better how to get more 'use value' out of art. 'Tribal-consumerist urge' indeed, 'promiscuous s.o.-giver' indeed, a cheap double-entendre if ever I heard one. I'd never pay attention to another word he wrote. Incidentally, I don't agree with 'seems to be de rigueur at concerts'. I don't see it nearly all the time. I also disagree that it's just 'to garner audience reaction, not to receive thanks.' That's purely cynical and jaded, as far as I can see. Actually, I think I agree with nothing of Manners' philosophy, except sitting at major performances if one hates the performance. If it's a smallish concert or performance, one ought to stand to give encouragement to the budding performer if others are doing it, because of politeness--so it's a matter of what level of development it is. If it's a good student performance, say, but that isn't quite yet masterful, it would be extremely rude to stay seated with everyone else standing, just because the violinist or singer was not Heifetz or Callas yet.

I plead guilty to vapidity and superficial taste...I loved her attitude of laziness and found her voluptuous in the extreme, with a version of Mediterranianism comparable to Sophia Loren and Melina Mercouri. I probably thought that meant her acting was good--wouldn't put it past me. Thanks for mentioning about Adams and Jefferson, dirac., I didn't know that. Blow-up may have been mainly about Swinging London, Vanessa Redgrave, Veruschka, and David Hemmings and Sarah Miles. This could definitely be called a form of much ado about nothing, but the decadence was done up in a pretty nicely stylized way, I thought.

I've always loved L'Avventura and Blow-Up and to some degree Red Desert. The Jack Nicholson The Passenger was very impressive and eerie as well. Liked Zabriskie Point considerably less. I'm going to read this obituary and others, as I know much less about him than Fellini and Pasolini. Incredible he and Bergman died the same day, though. "he frequently posed his characters in a highly formalized way. He employed point-of-view shots only rarely, a practice that helped erect an emotional shield between the audience and his puzzling characters." Yes, and I remember Larry McMurtry's little book Film-Flam Man, in which he talks a great deal about his own screenplay for Last Picture Show, having a lot of trouble with Antonioni. He said Alan Rudolph was influenced by Antonioni in Welcome to L.A.--true, he hated that and I loved it. I also wonder if Cassavetes might have been strongly influenced by Antonioni, especially for Faces. I know a number of people who don't like Antonioni, but I can't see that he's as pretentious as they claim, at least not the best films.

sz--Thanks for settling what imagined problems opening night might have presented. 200% style is it, I swear that's IT!

Thanks for mentioning the 'Seventh Seal', Alexandra, as it is one of the few major Bergman films I've not seen, and I just put in a request for it. I've seen most of the films, from the lighter ones like 'Smiles of a Summer Night' to the dark ones, and they are all masterful, and can be quite cruel as well as moving. Certain films like 'The Virgin Spring' are so singular you can't think of a single other film to even compare them to. But I agree about 'Winter Light' and the other two films of that trilogy, 'Through a Glass Darkly' and 'Silence', which are all deeply moving. I see it looks as if I've missed 'Summer Interlude' too, so must look that up now. I also love that 'Zauberflote', and find it such a quirky thing to have done. Edited to add: I just saw on his wiki entry that he himself did not consider 'The Silence' 'Through a Glass Darkly' and 'Winter Light' to be a trilogy, although somehow they came to be thought of as his 'trilogy of faith.' Also that 'Winter Light' was his favourite film.

My pleasure, Farrell Fan. And I was definitely thinking about that review occasionally, and looked it up again once home. While it's possible that opening night Lupone was not as hot as she became, I simply cannot see how he could say we were 'without a tidal wave of a Mama Rose' even if she was being careful (or something) the first night, which, if it happened, might have been because of nerves and testing the waters a bit in a role she'd long dreamed of and gone through much grief to capture. By last night, I don't believe any of that was true in terms of Ms. Lupone's performance, as there was so much electricity in the air from the beginning--I mean this audience bravoed and screamed at the intro to the Overture! Even before they got to hear their diva, they were so excited to hear this overture they were totally out of control. The minute Lupone came onstage she could neither do nor say anything until people sat down and quieted down. But I always thought the minute she got started, she did deliver, and as anybody familiar with her knows, she also can't wait to deliver, is charming that way. And with an audience like this, she had little choice, even had the effort proved fatal! I also had a vague feeling that Brantley somehow wanted to test her, that he might not have put most major performers through what comes across as something like a mild grilling when she would surely already had to have been pretty high up (which he concedes, but 'praising with faint damns', as would have been the phrase of choice of many here...) I frankly got the feeling he wanted to give her a bit of a hard time, or wanted to find some subtlety of perception, that sort that nobody else saw since they had been 'carried away' to such a degree they 'were no longer objective' sort of thing. (I didn't get that feeling from his also lukewarm review of Redgrave in 'Magical Thinking', which seemed much more thoughtful.) I think that there had been much excitement generated since the opening (including many reviews much more favourable), so that by last night Lupone was even working with her audience, intent on delivering whatever she might not have in the previous 3 weeks even; and she would have known that Sondheim and Laurents were there even if we didn't till the end. Given this, it's the problems in the rest of the production as I've described some of it that may have made her sometimes not great but simply very good. I see that this tendency to speed up tempi everywhere is half driving me crazy, and I went back to thinking about how some of us were so annoyed by 'Nutcracker' tempi this past Christmas at NYCB, and I had especially been appalled at Dewdrop having to race to catch up. Well, there was nothing here that was that infuriating, but it is definitely as if excitement and adrenalin are impossible foes, to wit, they simply can't slow down, and a Columbia professor behind me and I discussed this. He'd done the show himself a good number of times, and thought that it worked well as it was, but that he really noticed in 'Small World' how they zipped through it. We also discussed the weird casting of LA Opera's holiday-time production of 'The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny', which had Lupone as Widow Begbick and Audra MacDonald as Jenny. This had interested me because of seeing them both this season, and I believe '110 in the Shade' closed only this week. I can easily see Lupone as either the Widow or as a fantastic Jenny along the lines of her Mrs. Lovett, but not Audra MacDonald as Jenny: She's got a big range, but is too beautiful and slender to be truly sluttish in that way that Catherine Malfitano does so expertly and effortlessly when she makes her Jenny. The most admirable thing about this production was how superb all the performers were despite the fact that the sets were pretty drab. Gypsy's dressing room at the end is so bare and without froufrou you'd think Wieland Wagner had been called in, or that we were getting something from Wozzeck. So, when we often complain of the giant spectacles being done for shows and ballet productions, and the performers sometimes not being able to fully inhabit these, the deficiencies here are (excepting the speeding up of leisurely tempi, which I'm getting close to calling a 'societal malaise') in the superficial things. Better they be there than in the performers. At the very beginning, the energy is set by the Baby June, played by Sami Gayle, this furiously energetic little vaudeville blonde-straw-haired doll who can dance like the devil on pointe and has all sorts of comedy talent and hilarious jokey deliveries already as a child.

I never in my life saw an audience this excited, thrilled beyond imagining, screaming, yelling, celebrating, clapping at almost every possible opportunity. I knew that with this Lupone Mama Rose something special would happen at the last performance. A good early sign was seeing Barbara Walters waiting for her companion right out front and being very gracious to autograph-seekers and even those people who insist on being in photos with celebs. Looked marvelous and is perfectly statuesque and erect, you see a little more about her in person than most TV celebs I've seen, has a certain exoticism. Mostly wonderful production, gorgeous orchestra, Lupone pushy and sensational, and primal screaming at the end of 'Rose's Turn'. Needs a more expensive production, as the sets were adequate but not great, and Tulsa was not dressed right. Much nattier in the movie, here he looks a little too cornpone, but no need for that sort of realism. Some of the more leisurely Herbie/Rose songs--'You'll Never Get Away from Me' and 'Small World' were too fast (they got the pace for these much better in the movie), which sound okay in themselves like that, but take away a little of the punch of 'Everything's Coming Up Roses'. Lupone's outifts needed a little more glamorizing too, I'd say, her dresses and hairstyle a maybe unnecessarily frumpy. Hope they take it to Broadway and spiff up a little--there's not quite enough 'mystery of the theater' in it; otherwise, the cast is pretty terrific, with great Junes and Ms. Laura Benanti is wonderful, vocally and physically, as Gypsy. Strippers were good, but Faith Dane and Roxanne Arlen were both better as Mazeppa and Electra. The Tessie Tura (Alison Fraser) was close to perfect though. Anyway, endless curtain calls and flowers at the end, none of the usual professional endings, and Sondheim and Laurents came on stage. Lupone kept figuring out ways to stay onstage and there were tons of standing ovations even after numbers, flowers thrown by the audience, thrown by Lupone, Lupone clapping for the audience, just a beautiful show biz event.

Definitely do. It's wonderful, and the layout and interiors of the apartments and other rooms as they existed at the time are very good here.

And don't forget, if you're really interested in Louis XIV's court, to read or re-read the Memoirs of Saint-Simon, who was at court and quite disgusted with much of it. This is one of the works Proust always talks about in Recherches, and it's full of wonderful things about the Duc du Maine and the other 'royal bastards.' He's quite good at making you feel that the distance between you and the old moments he's talking about is not there at all, and it's a good complement to the Mitford. This wiki post is a quick way to get to know the good Duc de Saint-Simon if you don't already. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_de_Rouv..._de_Saint-Simon

Georges Bataille wrote at length at Erzbeth, for whom he had great admiration in his weird humble way, along with Gilles de Rais and Marquis de Sade. He wrote that he was sorry that the Marquis had not known about Ms. Bathory, because he would have appreciated her 'infinite cruelty'. Bataille was much involved in the fusion of intense pain and volupte. In that book, 'The Tears of Eros', you can also see pictures of a Chinese man tortured to death. I haven't done research on Ms. Bathory beyond what I read in Bataille, but I am sure that his research, if not his judgment, was always impeccable. There is further development of these matters in my friend Nick Land's book 'The Thirst for Annihilation: Georges Bataille and Virulent Nihilism.' There are other rough divas to admire more than the Countess, had more imagination. All the stories of Jezebel in I and II Kings, and her daughter Athaliah's dream of Jezebel in Racine's 'Athalie' are of interest. It was interesting to find that in Isaac Azimov's book on the stories in the Bible, that he seemed to admire 'the old proud Queen Jezebel', but it is unquestionably she who had Naboth stoned in order to steal his vineyard and many other politico-religious crimes. Some of the victims may have indeed been religious fanatics, but few Christians are going to find her admirable, maybe some atheists. Black magic a la Erzbeth in Hungary is more for the fetishist like Bataille himself, and Malraux had condemned the book I mentioned. She is like a nightmare image when you hear the Bathory name anyplace else, e.g., when I read that one of her descendants, a grandson or great-grandson, awarded Franz Liszt a prize of some sort. There's also a film 'Les Levres Rouges', released in the US as 'Daughters of Darkness', with the glorious Delphine Seyrig who plays an 'Elizabeth Bathory' who is supposed to be Erzbeth's granddaughter, although the character is clearly largely based on Erzbeth herself, but not to great effect. Seyrig, one of the greatest of all French film actresses, is much better viewed in 'Last Year at Marienbad', 'Muriel', or 'The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie.'

dirac--thank you! So nicely coincidental that I just picked up an old VHS at the library by accident the other day of 'The Tempest', which I'd never seen nor even heard of. Thoroughly loved it, and practically passed out with laughter when he shamelessly lets go with the camp at the end--I tell you, I even thought of 'The Sleeping Beauty', without Bluebirds or White Cats. Then, when the great Elizabeth Welch came in with 'Don' know whyyyy...ain't no sun up in the skyyy....stoh-my weath-uh...' I became almost delirious and nearly woke up neighbours. He's done a lot more than I'd realized. I'd never seen 'Caravaggio', but everybody told me to go see it when it came out, but I didn't. So I'll see it in a few weeks and report on it--hadn't even connected it up with Jarman, whom I discovered much later. I found an ancient damning review by Vincent Canby right after I watched the Tempest--had no effect whatever on my enjoyment of the film. I'm going to go see if I can get the link to it.... Yes, here it is: http://movies2.nytimes.com/movie/review?_r...amp;oref=slogin I daresay he didn't care for it.

Since you bring this up, from wiki there is this: 'Typically, a bullet is propelled by the contained deflagration of an explosive compound (originally black powder, later cordite, and now nitrocellulose), although other means such as compressed air are used in air rifles, which are popular for vermin control, hunting small game, and casual shooting ("plinking").' Hard to say, but it could be that that is why he lived for 8 days, although if used for small game, I don't know if it just knocks them out, damaging them but not penetrating, whether they die from the blow or later.