Movies that may -- or may not -- be about or for or from Children

Moonrise Kingdom is a child's view of a memory of the 1960s. Not a 21st century child, mind you. A child of the mid-20th century. It is a totally false memory, of course, so I prefer to think Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola wrote Moonrise Kingdom as a fantasy, without the unicorns.

Moonrise Kingdom is a story of young love, broken hearts and lost dreams, which Mr. Anderson directed and produced.  In some ways, it’s very simple.  The girl — 12, knee socks and a short dress, eyeliner, she speaks little and has a pair of left-handed scissors.  The boy —  12,over-sized glasses, coonskin cap, corncob pipe:  Welcome to 1965.  Although adults may not believe it, these two fell in love, and that’s the most important thing in this movie.

 Moonrise Kingdom is sweetly nostalgic for a time that never was.  This story could not be told in the present tense, not in today’s uptight and frightened society.  So Mr. Anderson has brought himself and his characters back in time, and we enjoy them for an hour and a half.  Much more and we might not allow ourselves to suspend disbelief despite the engaging music, the cinematography with soft, natural tones by Robert D. Yeoman, and the interesting performances.  Besides, everyone smokes.

The set-up includes a house that looks like a lake house where a couple families might live in summers.  Apparently not – the Bishop family lives here all year round.  Their house is on one end of a small island off the New England coast, where people write and receive letters, listen to music and read to pass their summer days.  A scout camp is at the opposite end.  Across the cove there’s a bigger bit of civilization with a bigger scout camp, and a prosperous town, including a church where Benjamin Britten’s Noyes Fludde is playing, or has played, and may play again.  Mr. Britten’s music accompanies much of this film, starting with his “The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra” played on a small portable record player.   Then there’s some Hank Williams, then more Britten.  Music and orchestrations during the film are by Conrad Pope and they’re marvelous. In addition, original music by Alexandre Desplat is clever and fitting.

Suzy and Sam meet in the meadow.

From one end of the island comes orphan and foster child Sam (Jared Gilman), 12 years old and looking for love.  From the Bishop house there’s Suzy (Kara Hayward), misunderstood, fleeing (for “ten days or less” as she tells her little brother when she borrows his portable record player) an unhappy household where the mom calls the kids to meals with a bullhorn, when she’s not fooling around with the Island’s police officer.  These two star-crossed lovers will meet in the meadow, and the adventure begins, building up to an emotional crescendo in time for an infamous hurricane that floods coves and dams and knocks steeples off churches.

Bruce Willis is just marvelous as the sad-sack, good-hearted Captain Sharp who loves Mrs. Bishop, warmly played by Frances McDormand.  She and her husband Walt, oddly (and that’s not a bad word in this movie) played by Bill Murray, are both lawyers, and their idea of pillow talk is following up on each other’s court motions. On the other end of the island, Scout Master Ward is an 8^th grade math teacher during school season, but considers the scouts his more important job.  Edward Norton plays the scout master with a sad fragility, gaining strength when needed — in some ways, that hurricane did people a lot of good.

Murray, Swinton, Willis, Norton, McDormand

Tilda Swinton makes a particularly odd appearance as a blue-clad “Social Services” unit.  There she was in her little cap, skirt suit, in an electric blue.  What was that about?  I didn’t particularly care, but the blue pulled focus. She served a purpose in the plot, but unlike everyone else in the film, she was merely odd, not interesting.

Wandering through the smoke, rain, and wind is Bob Balaban, master of ceremonies, narrator, historian.  I have no idea what’s fiction and what’s non-, since I tend to believe everything Balaban says.

Overall:  Moonrise Kingdom has great music, it’s a leisurely, odd, quirky little film.  It has a calming effect, and even the closing credits are sweet and cleverly done.  It’s a nice Saturday afternoon at the movies.  If your movie budget this summer is limited, Moonrise Kingdom will be just as undemandingly enjoyable and effective on the small screen.

Speaking of a child’s view, I saw the new Pixar film Brave last weekend.  It’s an absolute joy, funny, sweet, and, well, it’s Pixar…. from the music to the lyrical voices, to the gorgeous artwork, Brave just glows.  The loch looked like moving water, the horse’s fear made my heart pound, and the bears had full-blown personalities.  The people had as well!  Emma Thompson was Queen Elinor (well, her voice, but the facial expressions almost looked like her as well), Billy Connolly was a sweetheart of a dad as King Fergus, Julie Walters was very funny as the wood carving witch, and the delightful Kelly MacDonald wins everyone’s heart as the coming-of-age-child, Merida.  Animated or not, the acting was swell, the story was tight, and everyone should see this.  Well, maybe not kids under 5….it has some scary moments.

There was also an opening short called, appropriately, La Luna, which was short and sweet and clever and heart-warming.  Loved it – and look forward to more work from writer/director Enrico Casarosa.

~ Molly Matera, signing off to read a children’s book from the Sixties.

As We Like It

The Public Theatre’s 50^th season of Shakespeare in the Park has started off with a twang and a thrum and a heart-warming humdinger of a production of As You Like It.  Director Daniel Sullivan has taken the Forest of Arden and planted it in the American frontier leaning south.  A Lincoln Logs fort hides the Duke’s court up center, with a watchtower way up high.  A fellow in a vaguely Confederate uniform watches the audience amble in.  Another soldier joins him on a lower level.  Then four fabulous musicians, led by Tony Trischka, stroll on and joyously entertain us with bluegrass music written by Steve Martin (yes, walk-like-an-Egyptian Steve Martin).  Banjo, guitar, bass, and a fiddle, they picked and stroked and sang up a storm on a perfect evening in Central Park. 

Photo Credits Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

A sign hangs from a tree advertising a challenge to Charles the Wrestler, and the scene is set.  One by one we meet Orlando and Adam, Celia and Rosalind, Shakespeare’s usurper Duke Frederick, his entourage -- I can just type out the list of characters in As You Like It and say they were all well cast, loving their work and sharing it with us.  Sometimes when I see a Shakespeare play I have read multiple times and seen performed as many, something amazing happens, and I hear lines suddenly clarified, suddenly new, the suddenness magical.  This was one of those evenings in the theatre.

AYLI includes so many elements:  two instances of internecine quarreling — severe to the point of banishment and attempted murder — cross dressing, disguises, romance (primary, secondary, tertiary, quaternary), and a great deal of bawdy.  All these elements need to be blended together by a skilled director and, happily, Daniel Sullivan is a highly skilled, crafty, witty, and swell director. He tells the story of the play coherently, cohesively, and finds all the fun while retaining the verse and its rhythms.  Set designer John Lee Beatty integrated his clever set with Central Park’s trees so that it was tough to tell the landscape from the stage, while Jane Greenwood’s comfy period costumes made everyone easily shrug on their clothing to meet the day.

The opening scene of Shakespeare's AYLI is a weak one, providing exposition of Orlando’s family history and present estate.  Granted, in Shakespeare’s day people went to hear a play, not see it.  Nevertheless, it’s definitely telling instead of showing.  Showing comes soon enough, though, upon the entrance of Orlando’s elder brother Oliver.  The two men wrestle to the ground, Oliver emerging red-faced and furious, setting up a brother banished, and the possibility that Orlando’s decision to challenge Charles the Wrestler is not necessarily suicidal.  Knowing how to use one’s weight can be as important as having it.  This Orlando knows.

Most productions of AYLI begin to fail right there in the opening, with Orlando sounding petulant, hardly the stuff of a leading man.  Luckily the same words, under the more than capable guidance of Mr. Sullivan, sound different coming from David Furr’s Orlando, which is, bar none, the best Orlando I’ve ever seen.  Macintyre Dixon as Adam, the old manservant Oliver banishes along with his brother, is a good match for Furr, his new master.  And Omar Metwally does fine work as the elder brother with all the advantages, yet still feverish with jealousy of his younger brother’s natural graces.

Meanwhile, in the fort, Duke Frederick, the usurper of his brother Duke Senior, is an unstable fellow.  One moment he’s “hale fellow well met,” and the next he lashes out fiercely for no cause.  His exiled brother Duke Senior is of a much more even disposition, which the foolish might mistake for weakness.  The brother dukes are played by Andre Braugher, whose booming voice suits Shakespeare’s royalty and readily differentiates the dukes. He is kind and warm as Senior and changeable as Frederick.

Celia, daughter of the unstable Duke Frederick, is played with hearty relish by Renee Elise Goldsberry.  She is petite and pretty and powerful.  The connection between her and her cousin Rosalind, daughter of the exiled Duke Senior, is nearly palpable.  I’ve seen some good Celia’s, but never as clear a relationship as between these two women.  These cousins are like sisters, joking, arguing, teasing, loving, and defending one another against all comers – even if he’s a Duke.

The fights were all well staged by Rick Sordelet, performed well by Furr and Metwally and Brendan Averett, who played Charles the Wrestler. The important part of the wrestling scene, of course, is the magical moment when two sets of eyes meet, and Rosalind and Orlando are smitten, quite prepared to fall at one another’s feet.  Of course, neither can say so, and off we go.

Public Theatre Artistic Director Oskar Eustis’ Notes to the production state it clearly:  “You …do As You Like It when you’ve got a Rosalind.”  Has he got a Rosalind!  Lily Rabe is wondrous.  Articulate, witty, sharp, silly, she runs the gamut as Rosalind/Ganymede.  She was pitch perfect, gifting us with her beautiful use of verse, voice, heart and body.  Mischievously butch as she counterfeits a counterfeit of herself, witty beyond laughter in court or country.  Her Ganymede’s “You are not for all markets” admonition to Phoebe was fresh and new.

I can say with certainty that these were the best Rosalind-and-Celia and the best Rosalind-and-Orlando scenes I have ever seen.  Orlando’s not an easy role, so often appearing a doofus, but David Furr made him young and abused, young and brash, until he grew flowering into a courtier worthy of the daughter of a duke.  This was the first time I've really heard the scene between Orlando and Jaques, perhaps because it was the first time I believed Orlando was capable of the conversation. 

Stephen Spinella’s thrilling, ever looming, listening Jaques was drily funny and thoughtful and sad. The seven ages of man speech trotted along as Spinella simply told the story, without rushing, as if it had never been told before.  His opening lines just stop the show with laughter at his extraordinary tone.  He closes the first act with stillness.  I stood to stretch as others went off to the concession stand, and just watched him live those unscripted moments.  A wonderful performance.

Stephen Spinella as Jaques.  (Photo by Jennifer Broski)

Oliver Platt, not surprisingly, knows how to play the bawdy as Touchstone.  He is hilarious slapstick, rhythmic, scandalous. The pairing of Platt with Donna Lynne Champlin as Audrey, an earthy dancing fool, did not appear to be a courtly fellow taking advantage of a simple country wench.  Perhaps the opposite.  Lusty is as lusty does with those two.  I felt for poor Audrey’s wooer William (a single scene by a singular player, Brendan Titley, was just marvelous), but this Audrey and Touchstone belong together.

The foolish Silvius, in love with the shepherdess Phoebe (played by Susanna Flood, who was not quite in same part of the forest), was well done by Will Rogers with traditional oafishness that turns to wit when he learns a thing or two. 

Robert Joy’s Le Beau is charmingly foolish, torn yet loyal.  Among the banished duke’s followers is Amiens, played by the golden-voiced Jesse Lenat who leads the exiles in song.  All the crackerjack musicians (including Tashina Clarridge, Jordan Tice, Skip Ward, Anna Phyllis Smith, and Tony Trischka) in this production were splendid, as was the nifty choreography by Mimi Lieber.

In short, the Public Theatre's As You Like It is the best all around production of the play I've ever seen. Daniel Sullivan directed beautifully, Lily Rabe’s Rosalind and David Furr’s Orlando were stunningly played, Stephen Spinella is a better Jaques than we could dream, and Oliver Platt is the ultimate Touchstone. Go if you possibly can. Go wait on line beneath the shady trees of Central Park, or at the downtown theatre, or go join the Virtual Line at  http://shakespeareinthepark.org/tickets/virtual-ticketing/, but go see this well-nigh perfect production of As You Like It at the Delacorte Theatre before it closes much too soon at the end of June.

~ Molly Matera, signing off with a question:  Why isn’t this running two more weeks at the Delacorte?!

To see a lot of nifty photographs, go here:  at http://broadwayworld.com/article/Photo-Coverage-AS-YOU-LIKE-IT-Opens-at-the-Delacorte-Theatre-Oliver-Platt-More-20120622

9 to 5 + Trickster = Disappointing

This month the Women’s Project is putting on an experimental play — experimental in that it has multiple playwrights and directors creating it, rather like the large writing staffs of television sitcoms.  Not surprisingly, that’s what We Play for the Gods seemed like, except that it lacked a laugh track.  The laughs, chuckles, even giggles, were provided by a living audience.  However, in terms of the evening’s entertainment meeting the barest structural elements needed for a “play,” well: a beginning (none), middle (muddle), and end (still waiting). 

(C) 2012 Women's Project

The actors in We Play for the Gods are valiant creatures, so talented they make this play appear to work. Alas, it does not.  Is it a case of too many cooks?

As the audience enters the Cherry Lane Theatre, a woman sounding vaguely like a BBC Newscaster makes real and unreal announcements, asking (so discreetly) for donations for the Women’s Project in a soothing voice.  It’s rather difficult, therefore, to know when the play starts, since the same voice apparently proceeds as a radio broadcaster, awakening Simi, aptly described as a dysfunctional scientist.  Simi is well played with quiet pain and passion by Amber Gray.  A clip-clopping is heard — happily not a latecomer coming down the aisle but rather Annie Golden as Marla, office manager/administrative assistant/what have you for decades at the May Institute, “a world-renowned research institute dedicated entirely to the study of human behavior….” and so on.  Marla is experienced and practical, broken, used up.  Next in is Susan, a temp whom you just know will be arty. She’s terrified, oddly dressed for corporate America, and as we come to learn, a poet.  With an MFA, no less.  Irene Sofia Lucio plays this lost young woman beautifully, as Susan tries desperately to fit in, using her powerful “confident” voice that fools no one.  Lisa is the boss, perhaps once a scientist but now a brusque, tightly wound fund-raising executive with a repressive and probably vulgarian (male of course) boss above her.  She is bound to break into sharp shards before the evening is out, based upon this pitch perfect performance by Erika Rolfsrud.  And finally, the uninvited guest, a trickster “god” in blue, messing with everybody as if their real lives weren’t bad enough.  This mad woman, called the Provocatrix in the program, is played irreverently by Alexandra Henrikson.

Left to Right:  Erika Rolfsrud, Amber Gray, Alexandra Henrikson, Irene Sofia Lucio, and Annie Golden

These five dauntless women work very well together onstage and make us almost care. 

Was the point to show us that disparate desperate people are forced in our society (as if it’s different in any other) to work together in a place where nobody wins, nobody thrives, no one survives?  Or is it about “Trix,” the blue bitch who comes by to throw wrenches, high winds, and seagulls into the works to destroy what little these people have.

Only Susan, the frustrated poet — who seems to believe the Trickster may be her mischievous, miserably mean muse — seems to accomplish anything by the end of the play.  Simi appears to have gone quite over the edge, and Lisa and Marla will live on through Scotch. 

Yes, the Trickster god is not beneficent.  Nevertheless, just what was the point?  What we have here are four interesting characters in search of a story.  If those staff writers — seven playwrights, four directors, three producers — can find one, they may be able to write a play instead of a sitcom episode about working women, a derogatory phrase if ever this working woman has heard one. 

The Women's Project's latest project was disappointing.

~ Molly Matera, signing off to search the Internet for episodes of Murphy Brown.

Fairy Tales: Another Retelling

The last fairy tale turned movie I saw did not go so well, but yet, with Chris Hemsworth and Charlize Theron in the mix, Snow White and the Huntsman (hereafter “SWATH”) was an obvious choice for the weekend movie.  First-time film director Rupert Sanders has put himself on my “worth seeing” list with this debut.

(C) 2012 Universal Pictures

SWATH was fun, gorgeous, with good direction and CGI and all things visual (as well it should be, at its cost), as well as some good writing by Evan Daugherty, John Lee Hancock, and Hossein Amini.  Not great writing, but a good story that moved along (except for those long shots of our heroes trekking through the hills), fleshed out some familiar characters in unfamiliar ways, snuck in a scintillating point of view, and finally brought it all to a quite satisfactory close.

This is not your grandmother’s Snow White, although it may be your great grandmother’s since it reverts, as modern interpretations tend to do (see Donna Jo Napoli’s novel Zel or Angela Carter’s collection The Bloody Chamber), back toward its grim forbears.  Fairy tales were not sweet, just as folklore is not.  Fables can be harsh.  Pre-Disneyfication, these stories were meant to instruct and terrify children in order to 1) keep them in line and 2) protect them.  The forest was indeed deep, dark, and dangerous, animals were fierce and lethal, and there are times we should not speak to strangers.

Charlize Theron as Queen Ravenna, Sam Spruell as her brother Finn (C) 2012 Universal Pictures.

Queen Ravenna is certainly not your grandmother’s Evil Queen.  Evil she is, but Ravenna is a feminist rewrite of the wicked stepmother, here appearing as an abused child revenging herself on the world, becoming predator instead of prey.  Queen Ravenna goes to any means to protect herself and her creepy brother Finn, and wreaks havoc while she’s at it.  Her history is effectively touched upon in the movie.  Perhaps that was the story Mr. Sanders really wanted to tell, since he cast someone who could really play it.  In the hands of Charlize Theron, Ravenna’s childhood fears follow her throughout life, as do her lessons learned:  If men find you beautiful, they may hurt you but they’ll keep you.  If they do not, you’re on your own.

The destructive reign of Queen Ravenna has corroded the land, the lakes, the hills, the mines.  The dark forest is truly frightening, as the woodlands before deforestation throughout Europe would have been.  From great hulking trunks spread branches and leaves that block the light; unruly tree roots and vines trip clumsy interlopers.  The unknown is on all sides, above and below, the better to fright you with….   

The forest created by director Sanders, production designer Dominic Watkins, art director David Warren, and cinematographer Greig Fraser, was terrifying, generating shivers and shrieks.  Even dismal forests don’t last forever, however, and the same team created a joyously colorful reward coming out of the woods.  The magic that follows Snow White is as bright as Ravenna’s is dark.  Some of the woodland creatures may have been a tad Disney-like, but the entry into this unexpected land was a breath-taking delight.  Except, perhaps, for the little fairies with their six-pack abs — I kept expecting tiny little sharp teeth to appear.  Be that as it may….. where there is light, there is shadow, and innocence has no defense against trickery.

Chris Hemsworth as the Huntsman, Kristen Stewart as Snow White

Costume design by Colleen Atwood was very fine — oh, those crowns, those capes.  Ravenna’s wardrobe is marvelous, the Huntsman could have been born and grown up in his clothing, the outfits worn by members of the pre-Ravenna court are gorgeous, opulent, healthy and happy.  Grown-up Snow White’s dress serves many purposes and looks terrific.  Ms. Atwood may be up for another Oscar.

Ravenna’s dark magic is visually stunning, her vampiric method of draining life and youth from young maidens repulsive.  Ravenna’s history is a horrific one.  Snow White’s travails, in comparison, are negligible.  What matters is what Ravenna inflicts on the entire kingdom, and every living thing above or below ground.  All bow to her fury and misery.  It is not only magic that created Ravenna.  She didn’t learn to be that woman overnight, nor on her own.

Charlize Theron makes the wicked queen hauntingly human despite her magicks, and often downright sympathetic.  When Ravenna shouts, it’s raw, angry, and powerful.  When Snow White shouts, her weak voice does not resonate, nor does it sound “naturalistic.” 

Kristen Stewart as Snow White was her usual tepid self.  She did as required by the intelligent script.  She has a nice face and a fan base, but while she did not detract from the film, neither did she add to it.  She's not totally incompetent, but she's....boring.  Sam Spruell playing Finn, Ravenna's sleazy, shudder-inducing brother, is not boring. Queen Ravenna, the Huntsman, William, the dwarfs, all had personal histories informing their characters.  So, presumably, had Snow White, but who could tell?

Sam Claflin as William

William, son of a Duke and presumed handsome prince prime for a rescue is the very attractive Sam Claflin, who gets the opportunity to play two sides of the fellow, and does a perfectly good job.  But hard as he may vie, the Huntsman, who does not even try, would get my vote.

SWATH brings the count to four characters in five films I’ve seen Chris Hemsworth play in the last three years.  When you’re hot….well, he is.  Hemsworth’s Huntsman is a brawling braggart, a drunkard, and a widower.  Like other characters in this story, the Huntsman has a history.  He makes us laugh, he makes us care.

The dwarfs are angry old men — mostly.  Fine actors play anti-Disney versions — no Sleepy, no Dopey, but all rather grumpy.  Look for CGI’ed versions of:  Ian McShane, Bob Hoskins, Ray Winstone, Nick Frost, Eddie Marsan, Toby Jones, Johnny Harris, and Brian Gleeson.  Yes, that’s eight.  There’s some singing, some dancing, some grousing and growling. 

The film has the requisite white horse to help the imprisoned princess escape the wicked queen, an unusual number of dwarfs, mysterious masked women, two guys trying not to vie for the princess’ affections, and a Transformation:  from a child running away to a young woman striding forward on a journey quest, picking up friends along the way.  For those looking for romance, the Snow White courted by princes in Disneyland is not here.  This Snow White, as created by Sanders and his three screenwriters, is a child forced into adulthood and responsibility for her kingdom and her people, not someone looking for a date.  When Snow White finally wakes up, she is focused, dresses like Joan of Arc, then does Joan one better.

At this point in the film, some people might ask questions like “But how…” or “but when….”  Don’t think about it.  Fantasies often cannot stand up to serious scrutiny.  Don't worry, be happy.

All in all, I found the film engaging from beginning to end, amusing at times, horrifying at others.  Disney’s sweet, but grim is more fun….

~ Molly Matera, signing off.  Time to dim the lights and re-read some tales from the Brothers Grimm….

Rainy Days and Mondays

Rain means things that were drying outside are wet again.

The rugs I’d washed were drying nicely in the sun yesterday.  Then the sun went down, when I wasn’t looking.  This morning I woke to rain, and the rugs were still outside.  Sigh.

I set up the drying rack inside and laid out the rugs.  The cats watched.

The drying rack -- and it was morning outside, just very dark

Fascinated, they sniffed, they stood on their hind legs, they tried to climb up.  I told them not to jump up, because the whole thing might collapse.  They did not listen.

Mama Millie first

Chick's turn

Finally Wilbur.

    ~ Molly Matera, signing off.  It's not safe to be in a different room from the Cat-astrophe to come ....

Whedon Rules a Panoply of Superheroes

I had a wonderful time at the movies this weekend, watching Marvel’s The Avengers in a packed house.  Joss Whedon writes witty stuff and did not leave that talent behind for the screenplay for this long-awaited mega superheroes film.  The script is fine-tuned, detailed, well structured, exciting, and funny. Add to that Whedon’s other skill — he directs clearly, lovingly, giving his actors scope and allowing them to spread their wings – or whatever they have – to fly.  He tells the story, tossing bombs and reptilian or crustacean-like creatures as needed.

So what’s this movie about?  Super heroes who don’t play well with others will do when push comes to shove from external critters.  There’s such a fine line between fine lines and spoilers that I’m just going to make a list of the top-of-the-Hollywood Hills performances in this fun film:

The Avengers (c) 2012 Marvel

Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man is charming, witty, vain.  Downey brings a cool intelligence to Tony Stark and has a subtle but clear revelatory moment toward the end that is just part of the plot here, when he recognizes a link between himself and Loki.  Downey does it well, Whedon wrote it well, it’s a collaborative art.

Evans and Downey as Captain America and Tony Stark.  (c) 2012 Marvel.

Chris Evans as Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, is as realistically sweet, naïve, and powerful as we expect from his film last summer.  Don’t be fooled by his goodness, though – he’s tough as nails, confident, and insists on doing the right thing.

Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner, a.k.a. The Hulk, has created a quietly intense Bruce Banner and a damned funny Hulk – or, as Banner refers to him, “The Other Guy.”  He gets some massive laughs in this film, and deserves every one of them – as do the CGI artists.  Mark Ruffalo is the best Bruce Banner/Hulk ever.

Chris Hemsworth as Thor, a.k.a. Son of Odin, Demi-God.  He fell from grace out of Asgard, but came back to Earth to help the planet under his protection.  There’s an ‘aw shucks’ quality to Hemsworth that lends warmth to a character even more arrogant than Tony Stark.

Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. The Black Widow, does fine work here.  Not surprisingly in a Joss Whedon script, she has lots to do showing Natasha’s physical and intellectual strengths.  And quite a lot of heart.  

Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow

Jeremy Renner as Clint Barton (never called that), always known as Hawkeye. Hawkeye’s a tough guy and Renner gets to do his dark and light sides, strength and pain, and I only wish he’d been onscreen more.

Clark Gregg as Agent Phil Coulson, dapper and neat, is disarmingly important.  His arrival invariably presages trouble despite his total calm and confidence. 

Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury, a.k.a. the Boss a.k.a. Director of SHIELD.  He’s basically the CEO who reports to a higher power, the World Council, who appear as shadowy faces on computer screens.  They are desk jockeys who don’t get it.  Fury manipulates, he drives, he puts people together and watches the explosions.

Tom Hiddleston as Loki, a.k.a. adopted son of Odin, Demi-God.  Despite the fact that Loki’s demigod outfit kept making me laugh, he is a dastardly and very cool villain.  He so enjoys being bad, it’s a delight to watch.  He revels in his mischief, and the angle of the shots of his grinning face are brilliantly composed.

Stellan Skarsgård as Professor Erik Selvig, is almost a cipher here, which is pretty odd, considering Skarsgård’s skills and what happens to Selvig in this story.  It’s a mystery.

Cobie Smulders as Agent Maria Hill, a.k.a. regular human.  Smulders smoulders, obeys orders, questions privately.  A mere human who’s tough and smart, the way Whedon likes his women.

Of the thousands of people listed who contributed to this film, I’ll single out only two more:  Cinematography by Seamus McGarvey was gorgeous, brisk, bright, gloomy, everything it needed to be.  Film Editing by Jeffrey Ford and Lisa Lassek (uh oh, more than two already) was razor sharp, contributing to perfect pacing.  Oh and the production design by James Chinlund was beyond cool, phantasmagorical, lyrical, and overwhelming.  Suffice to say, this film has been put together extremely well, so much more than I could have hoped or expected.

Whedon Rules.

Is it necessary to have seen Thor, Iron Man and Iron Man 2 and Captain America: The First Avenger to get this film?  Tough to tell, since I’ve seen all of them, but I think Whedon lays it out clearly and coherently in reasonably chronological order.

-         Immediate situation:  Fantastic secret complex invaded, people killed, people kidnapped, who’re you gonna call?

-         Establish who’s needed so that, one by one by one, Nick Fury’s people gather — and introduce — the superheroes, odd ducks, and outcasts who will comprise his team of Avengers.

-         What do you need in an action adventure movie?  Fast-paced coherent action; colorful, interesting, funny, sexy characters; things that go boom; things that slither; laughs; moments of quiet reflection (well, most action adventure movies don’t have this, and don’t really need it, so The Avengers gets Extra Credit for sneaking them in); more laughs, more explosions, flying things….  The beat goes on.  The Avengers has it all.

Actors leave their egos at home so their alter egos can do battle on the screen.  What do you get when you put a couple geniuses, an old-fashioned boy chemically engineered to be a superhero, and a demi god into a room together?  Fireworks.  Violence.  Broken furniture.  Does Black Widow tell the guys what’s what?  Of course she does.  Do they listen?  What fun would that be? 

If there’s a flaw to The Avengers, it’s the embarrassment of endings, a common feature in continuing sagas advertising their sequels in the last reel.  What appears to be the final shot is directly connected to Tony Stark’s revelatory moment, and is enough to say there’s more to come.  Then, in the way of such franchises, a whole new scene is included to tell you that. 

I can tell you that I cannot wait.

In closing, I repeat my advice to film audiences to show respect and courtesy to the thousands of people it takes to make a film, otherwise they may miss out on stuff after the credits.  The final bit of film in The Avengers is heartfelt and hilarious at the same time, and garnered applause from those hearty few of us left in the theatre to enjoy it.  Wait for it.

~ Molly Matera, signing off, but not logging off — now I can watch all the videos online about this delightful entertainment….

A Play About Football, Trauma, and Heroes

“Life ain’t measured in years, it’s measured in yards!”  So cries Duncan Troy, retired NFL linebacker.  He sacked countless famous players in his day, and has the photos on his wall and the videotapes to prove it.  He plays them over and over and is planning to post them on You Tube.  In the hierarchy of males, he’s a pugnacious alpha.

In the opening of Patrick Link’s new play, Headstrong, Duncan Troy plays confident host to a stranger, Nick Merritt, in his living room cum trophy room, which is dominated by photographs of himself as a pro football player, and a liquor cabinet.  Merritt’s goal in Troy’s home becomes clear when Troy’s daughter Sylvia arrives.  Her ex-husband Ronnie Green was a pro running back who couldn’t run for long. He’d retired younger than Troy would have contemplated, and then his life fell apart.  Even before Troy’s daughter Sylvia divorced him, Ronnie had begun to spiral downward until he committed suicide just a few weeks before the play begins.

Ron Canada as Duncan Troy and Alexander Gemignani as Nick Merritt in the trophy room.  (c) 2012 Gerry Goodstein.

Sylvia doesn’t want to deal with the reality of her husband’s decline and death.  Her father’s judgment, voiced to Merritt, is condemnation of his son-in-law as weak.  As Ronnie’s legal widow, despite her characterization of him as her ex, Merritt (who is based on Chris Nowinski, a former professional wrestler who suffered brain damage during his professional career) needs Sylvia to sign authorization for Merritt and his associate Dr. Moses Odame (based on neuropathologist Bennet Omalu, who discovered the condition of chronic traumatic encephalopathy, commonly known as CTE) to analyze Ronnie’s brain, hoping to learn what damage may have occurred with repetitive injury in his years in pro ball.  Sylvia refuses for her own reasons, which are not her father’s, who eavesdrops and bullies to convince her to refuse consent.  

You see it in the papers far too often.  A retired ball player dies, perhaps by his own hand, perhaps willing his brain to research.  Concussions have been studied sufficiently to know the damage they do to athletes.  Ronnie didn’t have any concussions, but science wants to know more about professional athletes with similar symptoms.  Science wants Ronnie Green’s brain.

Patrick Link has crafted Headstrong so that different points of view on the dangers of contact sports are expressed with deep belief by different characters — including more than one desire by the same character — without resorting to cardboard cutouts spouting a thesis. To Troy, quality of life after sports is something women think about, although Troy uses ruder terms than “women” for Merritt’s concerns regarding potential brain damage.  Apparently Merritt’s masculinity is in question if he cares about life after football.

A lot of this play is about what is perceived as weakness, strength, and courage.  Troy sees heroes where Merritt sees athletes and victims.  Merritt’s own physical injuries are to him a sign of weakness that he would never admit to Troy.  Ronnie’s barely recognized physical injuries may have caused his depression and dementia that led to his grisly suicide.  Perhaps the position of Sylvia, widow and daughter of football players and mother of a young son, is a resolution that both men dread.  Sylvia Troy Green does not want her son to play football — whatever else she chooses to deny or admit, that choice speaks louder than words.

Headstrong is tightly written and makes its points in three scenes creating food for thought and conversation. Everyone in the audience was buzzing as we trailed out into the muggy night.  William Carden, Artistic Director of EST, directs Headstrong simply and succinctly, allowing the play and the characters to speak for themselves. A smart set by Jason Simms efficiently uses the tight space of the 2^nd floor theatre at EST.  Video design by David Tennent drew us in without distracting as it showed the glory, pain, and danger of football.  Suzanne Chesney’s costume design was on the mark for each character, and sound by Jannie Bullard was subtle and effective.  As for the cast:

Ron Canada as Duncan Troy is tough, angry, and frightened all at once, in a fine performance.

Alexander Gemignani as Nick Merritt starts the play sure of his goals but so unsure of himself that he is whittled down by the end of the first scene with Troy, and totally uncertain in the second scene.  His excellent performance personifies the conflict between the desire to retain the unrestricted hitting football game (and other contact sports) while trying not to destroy its players. 

As Sylvia Troy Green, Nedra McClyde’s voice and face are expressive, sometimes sly, sometimes hiding the devastation of her loss. However, her body doesn’t altogether keep up with her characterization. The stresses that had to weigh on her don’t show below the neck.

Tim Cain as Dr. Moses Odame has charm, passion, and hope with science on his side, yet his words and delivery are rather uninspiring. 

Nedra McClyde as Sylvia and Alexander Gemignani as Nick (C) 2012 Gerry Goldstein.

Full disclosure:  I love theatre.  I do not love football.  I admire the attempt of the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation (http://ensemblestudiotheatre.org/now-playing/current-productions/estsloan-presents-headstrong/) to encourage plays about science and technology in our society.  The challenge has always been to make a good play.  Science is largely theoretical, and I think playwright Link did a good job presenting what has a lot of evidence, what hasn’t, and what is needed to confirm burgeoning theories of connections between repetitive if lesser hits that did not cause concussions, but may still contribute to brain injuries.  Making a well structured play that satisfies, from a purely theatrical point of view, is not so simple, however, as writing a sturdy and well-balanced thesis.



Although I found Headstrong compelling and intellectually effective, something is lacking in the play’s structure.  Perhaps it is that there’s no single protagonist. Troy, the alpha male, leads the scenes he’s in by brute force, but his only goal is to retain the status quo.  Sylvia is still taking care of everyone else.  Merritt had a goal, and he thought he’d failed; that he achieved it is not really his victory, but Sylvia’s.  And Dr. Moses gets what he wants by doing nothing.  

Gemignani as Merritt and Tim Cain as Dr. Moses Odame.

Link gives us information and choices through well developed characters. The questions raised are about a good deal more than sports.  Headstrong’s closing moments impart an enduring image, part visual, part aural, and filled with a vague unease… even fear.  

Presented by The Ensemble Studio Theatre/Alfred P. Sloan Project for New Plays on Science and Technology, the play runs through May 13 in an intimate space at EST.  Perhaps a slightly larger Off Broadway space could be next to reach a broader audience, although, despite its looming subject, the play isn’t yet big enough for a much larger space….

Finally, and this isn’t about the play as a play....  I just need to argue one point with Mr. Troy (or Mr. Link).  He insists that football players and other sports stars are our heroes.  That in our society, we don’t have monsters like Grendel (and that, my friends, is a crock), so we don’t have heroes like Beowulf.  Therefore we need substitute heroes, presently in the form of grown men — and some not finished growing — crashing their entire body weights into one another to stop a play or make a play, or sometimes trying to knock a person out of the game entirely (which, as a lowly female, I would consider cheating).  Heroes?  Our society has monsters.  And if these guys are our society’s heroes, they've missed the mark.  If they're heroes, why are we still fighting actual wars?

~ Molly Matera, signing off, hoping not to wake to news of yet another sports figure committing suicide.