THEATER REVIEW: THE TURK IN ITALY

Fiorilla (Nino Machaidze) in The Turk in Italy. Photo by Robert Millard.

In the buffo

By Ed Rampell

L.A. Opera’s The Turk in Italy is sort of Gioachino Rossini meets the Marx Brothers and Elvis’ 1965 movie Harum Scarum, a delightfully frothy comic concoction combining madcap merriment, mayhem and music. One half expects Chico to unmask himself during the second act’s costumed ball and ask, “Why a Turk?” Soon after the curtain lifts the amused audience witnesses one of the oldest circus clown routine, which your plot spoiler adverse reviewer won’t reveal. This comedy of ill manners is about – what else? – sex, and has more dosey doe partner changing than square dances or Woody Allen movies.

Indeed, in this opera buffo there’s not just a threesome, but a ménage a quatre (and then some), as Selim (Italian bass-baritone Simone Alberghini as the titular Turk), accompanied by a bodyguard who resembles the Green Hornet (but don’t worry, Seth Rogen isn’t making his opera debut here), arrives in Naples and woos Donna Fiorilla (sizzling soprano Nino Machaidze). This young beauty, however, is already cheating on her much older, wealthy husband, Don Geronio (Italian baritone Paolo Gavanelli, who hilariously steals scenes with the merry mania of a comic kleptomaniac), with the youthful, aptly named Don Narciso (portrayed by Russian tenor Maxim Mironov as a kind of Neapolitan Fonzie). Further complicating moral matters is the reunion of Selim with his former slave and lover, the fortuneteller Zaida (sultry mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey).

Plotwise it would be enough to write that “complications and sheer hilarity ensue,” except for the addition -- and interjection -- of a sixth major character, the prosaic Prosdocimo (baritone Thomas Allen), a writer, who humorously gives new meaning to the cliché of “the artist suffering for his art.” Although identified as a “Poet,” Prosdocimo is actually seeking subject matter for a new comic opera or comedy, and more precisely seems to be a librettist or playwright. In any case, Prosdocimo appears to be the alter ego (or doppelganger) of Rossini (and/or of Felice Romani, who wrote The Turk in Italy's libretto and, according to Performances Magazine, apparently plagiarized librettist Caterino Mazzola). In any case, Prosdocimo is not merely content to observe and then write about what he has experienced amidst the carousers. The not-so-humble scribe stirs the plot pot in a self-serving way, solely to get a better story.

The Turk in Italy premiered in 1814 at Milan’s renowned La Scala, yet this zany sex farce is redolent with meaning for contemporary audiences. The curtain rises on an encampment of people identified as “Gypsies,” and my concern over the stereotyping of the much maligned Roma as vagabond thieves, etc., dissipated shortly afterward, as they vanish from the stage and story, serving mainly to introduce Zaida, a Turkish astrologer.

As its title indicates, Rossini’s opera suggests something much in the news since 9/11: The so-called “clash of civilizations” (and their malcontents) between the Christian West and Muslim Middle East. Of course, this is all treated with jest by Rossini, that barber of civility. When Selim informs Don Geronio that men seeking another’s wife have a way of dealing with this in Turkey -- by buying said wife, as if she’s a mere commodity -- Geronio responds to this oddity by informing the foreigner that Italian men, in turn, have their own way of reacting to such requests: punching the wannabe buyer in the face! Of course, comical Gavanelli milks the scene for every laugh it’s worth – much to the aud’s delight.

Rossini and Romani’s lighthearted depiction of the eternal war between the sexes is more than a bawdy romp. Beneath the frivolous surface are serious issues, such as the fact that one-size-fits-all monogamy is, in fact, not natural for all humans (just check the divorce rate.) In The Turk in Italy polygamy battles fidelity; the eponymous polyamorous Turk must surrender his harem -- and of course Fiorella must pay for enjoying sex and multiple partners. Call it the “Jezebel sin-drome.” However, since Turk is a comedy, this opera buffo doesn’t have the grim tragic finale of Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto or Georges Bizet’s Carmen. Although as infidelity gives way to “domestic bliss,” some ardent feminists, sexual revolutionaries, etc., might consider this a fate worse than death.

Nevertheless, a good time was had by all at the Dorothy Chandler, and Rossini’s buoyant score, which leaps to life under the twirling baton of conductor James Conlon, is enough to lift the spirits of a suicidal manic depressive about to jump off the Golden Gate. There are no sumptuous sets to "ooh" and "ahh" at here, but scenery and lighting designers Herbert Maurauer and Reinhard Traub have collaborated to render some clever sets and effects with what appear to be scrims, projections and the like. At one point black clad chorusmen (no, not stagehands!) appear onstage to rig up a giant screen or curtain. Kristin Shaw Minges’ choreography is lovely, and at times, appropriately sexually provocative.

My only reservation concerns the direction of the German Christof Loy and Axel Weidauer, and their deploying of “Regietheater” in order to update Rossini’s early 19th century frolick. They set the story in relatively (if indeterminate) modern times, but this does absolutely nothing to better serve Rossini’s saga. This rendition would have appealed even more if Maurer’s sets and costumes were allowed to take us back to Rossini’s era. Indeed, the production’s best effect is a fabled mode of transport staright out of Aladdin. Re-setting William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet in 20th century Manhattan and replacing Verona’s balconies with New York’s fire escapes in West Side Story was a stroke of genius, but Loy and Weidauer are no Leonard Bernsteins, and Rossini is in no position to take issue with the liberties they’ve taken with his creation. Their unfortunate switcheroo does not enhance what is otherwise Rossini’s euphoric night at the opera buffo.


The Turk in Italy runs through March 13 at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown Los Angeles. For more information: (213)972-8001; www.laopera.com

THEATER REVIEW: THE CRADLE WILL ROCK

A scene from The Cradle Will Rock.

This beat goes on

By Ed Rampell

Don’t miss The Cradle Will Rock. The Blank Theatre Company’s production of this proletarian theater classic is as timely today as it was when Marc Blitzstein’s musical premiered – uh, eventually – on Broadway during the last Depression, emerging out of a wave of working class organizing and sitdown strikes. Now, during the current Depression, workers in Wisconsin, Ohio and beyond are resisting attempts to overturn labor’s historic gains made during the New Deal such as collective bargaining, just as the masses are rising against tyranny across North Africa and the Western Asia.

The Cradle Will Rock opens with Tiffany C. Adams’ sultry streetwalker Moll trying to hustle a potential john, as they dicker over prices in Steeltown, USA. Adams delivers a moving, soulful rendition of Nickel Under the Foot, which inspired German playwright Bertolt Brecht to tell Blitzstein he should write an entire musical around this song, according to Eric Gordon’s Blitzstein biography Mark the Music (which, along with a CD of the score by the cast of the Blank’s 1995 Cradle production, is on sale at the Stella Adler Theatre). Adams (who, appropriately, hails from Toledo, Ohio, site of the 1934 mass strike co-led by A.J. Muste) holds her own as Moll, a role that Broadway luminary Patti LuPone has played on New York and London stages.

Adams’ hooker serves as a recurring leitmotif throughout the musical for the prostitution that the capitalist system forces many characters into. These include members of the Tea Party-like “Liberty Committee,” which industrialist Mr. Mister (Peter Van Doren reprises the role he first played in the Blank’s 1995 The Cradel Will Rock) and his “philanthropic” wife, Mrs. Mister (Gigi Bermingham), have recruited and bankroll to stem Steeltown’s rising tide of unionization. With great comic panache these sellouts depict what Karl Marx called “ruling class, ruling ideas,” just as Charlie Chaplin humorously portrayed Marx’s theory of the alienation of labor under an exploitive system in his 1936 masterpiece, Modern Times.

The portrayal of the Committee in this production skillfully and drolly directed by Blank Founder Daniel Henning verges on the Theatre of the Absurd, as the thesps skewer various members of the scientific, media, religious, academic and cultural elite: Dr. Specialist (Rob Roy Cesar), Editor Daily (David Trice), Reverend Salvation (Christopher Carroll), President Prexy (Matthew Patrick Davis) and musician Yasha (Jim Holdridge).

But can the Misters buy everyone? Have they met their match when they confront labor leader Larry Foreman (Rex Smith; back in 1937 Howard Da Silva originated the role)? Foreman sings the title number, and the rocking cradle refers to revolution, which American socialist Eugene V. Debs called, “The boldest word in an language.” When the stage explodes with mass revolt, the workers’ picket signs cleverly bear contemporary corporate references, as does the playbill’s cover.

The Cradle Will Rock was the number one “must see” play on my list of shows I hoped to experience one day. I missed it circa 1999 when it was presented at the Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum (Geer played Mr. Mister in the Broadway premiere). But Blank’s production not only doesn’t disappoint – it’s also well worth the wait. Henning’s humorous take on Blitzstein’s musical is surprisingly different from the version of it glimpsed in Tim Robbins’ stellar Cradle Will Rock (the best American feature film of 1999), which is more about the struggle to present the play than about the show itself, although scenes of the opera are glimpsed in rehearsal and performance sequences and seemingly more serious.

Except for a piano player tickling the ivories on stage right the current cast appears on a bare stage at the Stella Adler. Did scenic designer Kurt Boetcher botch the set design? Or is this a clever reference to the stirring events leading up to The Cradle Will Rock's 1937 Broadway debut – which, as Robbins revealed in his thoughtful movie, almost never occurred?

Almost 75 years later, as workers continue to fight for their rights, The Cradle Will Rock remains as relevant as ever. Rock on!


The Cradle Will Rock runs through March 20 at the Stella Adler Theatre, Main Stage, 6773 Hollywood Blvd., 2nd Floor, Hollywood, California, 90028. For more information: 323/661-9827; www.ovationtix.com/trs/pr/781235.

AUSTIN NORDIC FILM FEST 2011: WE WHO STAYED BEHIND

Adam (Tobias Mikkel Jørgensen) in We Who Stayed Behind.

A shortage of time

By Don Simpson

Society has given up, crumbling into a post-apocalyptic state of hopeless disrepair. Adam (Tobias Mikkel Jørgensen) is one of a handful of children left behind with one adult -- the children’s teacher, Carlo (Claus Flygare) -- after everyone else abandoned the city. It is not long before Carlo contracts “the disease” as well.

After Carlo’s departure, Adam is intent on not allowing this story evolve into a state of anarchy and mayhem. Instead of quarantining his friend Ida (Coco Hjardemaal), who contracts the disease from Carlo, Adam chooses to prove to Ida and the other remaining children that the city is a place worth living.

Danish director Martin de Thurah’s 25-minute narrative from 2008 truly deserves to be fully fleshed-out as a feature length film. Even within its all too brief run time, de Thurah is able to ruminate thoughtfully and intelligently on the current state of the world; first and foremost on the fear, negativity and hate that over-saturates our lives. We have become a legion of zombies, just going through the motions while the world seems to collapse around us. Political and civil unrest, a constant state of war, economic collapses, cultural genocides, climate change...the list is endless. What is there to be happy about? Who is going to show us that this planet is a place worth living? Who would have suspected that this modest modern day Lord of the Flies would actually be such a profound social critique of our world?

And thanks to Rasmus Videbæk’s breathtakingly luscious cinematography, We Who Stayed Behind is not just brain candy, it is eye candy too. But let us give the real credit where credit is due, We Who Stayed Behind would be nothing without Jørgensen and Hjardemaal’s masterful performances.

AUSTIN NORDIC FILM FEST 2011: THE HOME OF DARK BUTTERFLIES

Juhani (Niilo Syväoja) in The Home of Dark Butterflies.

No refrain in light

By Don Simpson

Juhani (Niilo Syväoja) has been bounced around foster homes for the last six years; he is a young teenager when he arrives at The Island, a boys’ reformatory run by Olavi (Tommi Korpela), an administrator with a severe god complex ("I am God and this is my kingdom").

Juhani has been sent to The Island because he is considered to be a hopeless case, which is apparently Olavi’s specialty, but other than his disregard of authority and reclusive behavior, we are given no signs of Juhani being hopeless. It is apparent, however, that Juhani has never recovered from a severe psychological trauma -- the mysterious death of his baby sibling -- that occurred in his murky as pond-water past. Immediately following his sibling’s death, Juhani was separated from his parents (the reasons for this separation are not revealed at first). Whatever happened, Juhani is carrying an intense amount of guilt and its difficult to surmise whether or not Juhani knows why he is guilty.

A surprise visit by his father (Pertti Sveholm) to The Island shakes the cobwebs free in Juhani’s brain, triggering a series of nightmarish flashbacks that puts the puzzle pieces together not just for us but for Juhani as well. Juhani’s father also gives Olavi a harebrained scheme to raise silkworms on The Island for profit (this has never been done before in this far-north climate). That pipe dream is set in motion when the government announces that they will no longer fund The Island, leaving Olavi, his family and seven students to fend for themselves.

It also becomes apparent that Juhani has some repressed emotions concerning female infidelity. During several flashbacks we learn that Juhani’s mother (Matleena Kuusniemi) may or may not have cheated on his father; it is suspected that Juhani’s deceased sibling was not sired by Juhani’s father. On The Island, Juhani suspects that his romantic interest -- Olavi's daughter, Vanamo (Marjut Maristo) -- might be sleeping with one of his classmates, the exact same stud who Juhani discovers is nailing Olavi’s wife (Kristiina Halttu). The web of sexual intrigue and related violence becomes a little too much of Juhani to handle.

Juhani does not carry the burden of the cross of guilt lightly; the question is whether he will discover redemption before the weight becomes too much for him to bear. Every time things appear to be improving for Juhani, there is always a turn for the worse, as if the kid has not been punished enough.

Director Dome Karukoski’s The Home of Dark Butterflies -- which was adapted by Marko Leino from Leena Lander’s novel -- really piles on the melodrama with murders, suicides, infidelities, and psychological torments aplenty, but the situations all seem to play out in perfectly believable ways. There are few Hollywood directors who could pull of this incredible feat and in the wrong hands I would have really hated the hyper-emotional tendencies of The Home of Dark Butterflies. Karukoski utilizes a great deal of subtlety and finesse to keep the dramatic scenarios completely honest. (Maybe it is ingrained in his Nordic sensibilities?) And Syväoja deserves at least some of the credit as well, because he is the one who must weather the shit storm in a convincing way, all the while earning the audience’s sympathy...despite being a suspected babykiller.

AUSTIN NORDIC FILM FEST 2011: KINGDOM COME



A scene from Kingdom Come.

Emoc Modgnik

By Don Simpson

Three young Italian fans of black metal (Azzurra Antonacci, Leandro Guerrini and Alberto Daniele Troiana) are travelling to Bergen for Norway’s infamous Hole in the Sky (HITS) festival. They take a wrong turn in their Enslaved-pumping black van and soon find themselves on the driveway of a fundamentalist Christian household run by Kristin (Siren Jørgensen) and Svein (Trond Fausa Aurvaag).

Kingdom Come is the classic tale of evil black metal fans versus good Christians turned upside-down. Though the black metal fans wear inverted crosses around their necks, dress in all black, and are covered in tattoos and piercings, they are the victims of the diabolical Christians (who wear upright crosses around their necks and dress in all white). It is Kristin and Svein who superficially judge the black metal fans, assuming that they are representatives of Satan because of their appearance and taste in music.

Black metal has a lot of negative associations, from church burnings to white supremacy, but as far as we know these three Italians are merely just fans of the music. In director Kjersti Steinsbø’s short film, it is the Christians who are violent and close-minded and the black metal fans who are peaceful and innocent. In some ways Kingdom Come is an all too obvious slap in the fundamentalist Christians’ collective face, but in other ways it is a playful (at least for a non-Christian) take on the age-old saying that people are not always what they seem.




FILM NEWS: JACC ANNOUNCES PROGIE WINNERS

A scene from Even the Rain.

JACC jumps over what Oscar picks

By Ed Rampell and John Esther

After failing to make the final cut for this year's Academy Awards for Best Film in a Foreign Language (or any other category for that matter), Even the Rain, a smashing Spanish film about an uprising in Bolivia has swept the James Agee Cinema Circle’s fourth annual “Progie” Awards for Best Progressive Films and Filmmakers of 2010.

The James Agee Cinema Circle is an international, independent umbrella group of progressive film critics, reviewers, scholars and historians dedicated to raising public awareness about films dealing with political, social and cultural issues such as: Human rights, workers’ struggles, women’s rights, environmentalism, ethnic rights, free speech, gay rights, civil liberties, immigrant rights, people’s activism and peace.

The JACC annually presents The Progies to the year’s Best Progressive studio features, indies, documentaries and artists. The Progies are the “un-Oscar”, the “people’s alternative Academy Awards,” honoring movies and talents of conscience and consciousness whereas the Best Picture Oscar, for example, consistently goes to movies with centrist-right sensibilities (e.g. Ordinary People; Dances with Wolves; Shakespeare in Love; American Beauty; The Departed; The Hurt Locker) or even politically reactionary films (e.g. Forrest Gump; Driving Miss Daisy; Silence of the Lambs; A Beautiful Mind; Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King; Crash; No Country for Old Men; Slumdog Millionaire) at the Annual Academy Award Ceremony. Of course, this year's Academy Award nominations are not significantly different.

Below is a complete list of all of the 2010 Progies winners, followed by the nominees in every category. (There is an initial nomination process with other films not mentioned below). Each Progie is awarded in a category named after a great cinema artist or film that made a contribution to movies that inspire, enlighten and entertain audiences.

The Trumbo: The Progie Award for Best Progessive Picture is named after Oscar-winning screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, a member of the Hollywood Ten, who was imprisoned for his beliefs and refusing to inform. Trumbo helped break the Blacklist when he received screen credit for Spartacus and Exodus in 1960.

Winner: Even The Rain

Other nominations: Social Network, Casino Jack, Made In Dagenham.

The Garfield: The Progie Award for Best Actor in a progressive picture is named after John Garfield, who rose from the proletarian theater to star in progressive pictures such as Gentleman's Agreement and Force of Evil, only to run afoul of the Hollywood Blacklist.

Co-Winners: Mark Wahlberg, The Fighter; Kevin Spacey, Casino Jack.

Other nominations: James Franco, Howl; Geoffrey Rush, The King’s Speech.

The Karen Morley Award: The Progie Award for Best Actress in a film portraying women in a progressive picture is named for Karen Morley, co-star of 1932’s Scarface and 1934’s Our Daily Bread. Morley was driven out of Hollywood in the 1930s for her leftist views, but maintained her militant political activism for the rest of her life, running for New York’s Lieutenant Governor on the American Labor Party ticket in 1954.

Winner: Naomi Watts, Fair Game.

Other nomination: Sally Hawkins, Made In Dagenham.

The Renoir: The Progie Award for Best Anti-War Film is named after the great French filmmaker Jean Renoir, who directed the 1937 anti-militarism masterpiece, Grand Illusion.

Winner: The Green Zone.

Other nominations: Route Irish, Miral.

The Gillo: The Progie Award for Best Progressive Foreign Film is named after the Italian director Gillo Pontecorvo, who lensed the 1960s classics, The Battle of Algiers and Burn!

Winner: Even The Rain.

Other nomination: Tears Of Gaza.

The Dziga: The Progie Award for Best Progressive Documentary is named after the Soviet filmmaker Dziga Vertov, who directed 1920s nonfiction films such as the Kino Pravda (“Film Truth”) series and The Man With the Movie Camera.

Winner: Inside Job.

Other nominations: Client 9: The Rise and Fall of Eliot Spitzer; South Of The Border.

Our Daily Bread Award: The Progie Award for the Most Positive and Inspiring Working Class Screen Image is named after director King Vidor’s 1934 classic about an American collective farm, which starred Karen Morley and was produced by Charlie Chaplin.

Winner: Made In Dagenham.

Other nominations: Even The Rain; The Fighter, Fish Tank.

The Robeson: The Progie Award for the Best Portrayal of People of Color that shatters cinema stereotypes, in light of their historically demeaning depictions onscreen. It is named after courageous performing legend, Paul Robeson, who starred in 1936’s Song of Freedom and 1940’s The Proud Valley.

Winner: Even The Rain.

Other nominations: Night Catches Us; Miral; Guy And Madeline On A Park Bench; Frankie & Alice.

The Buñuel: The Progie Award for the Most Slyly Subversive Satirical Cinematic Film in terms of form, style and content is named after Luis Buñuel, the Spanish surrealist who directed 1967’s Belle de Jour and 1972’s The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie.

Winner: The Social Network.

Other nominations: Enter the Void; Hitler in Hollywood. 

The Pasolini: The Progie Award for Best Pro-Gay Rights film is named after Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini, who directed 1964's The Gospel According to St. Matthew. 

Winner: The Kids Are All Right.

Other nominations: Howl; I Love You Philip Morris. 

The Lawson: The Progie Award for Best Anti-Fascist Film is named after John Howard Lawson, screenwriter of 1938’s anti-Franco film, Blockade, and the 1940s anti-nazi films, Four Sons, Action in the North Atlantic, Sahara and Counter-Attack. 

Winner: Even The Rain.

Other nominations: The King’s Speech, Casino Jack, The Last Circus. 

The Langlois: For Best Progressive Picture Deserving Theatrical Release in the US and distribution in other countries and platforms is named after film archivist Henri Langlois, co-founder of Paris’ Cinémathèque.

Winner: Film Socialisme.

Other nominations: Amigo, Vlast, Cleveland Versus Wall Street, Nostalgia For The Light.

 

The Sergei: The Progie Award for Lifetime Progressive Achievement On or Off Screen is named after Sergei Eisenstein, the Soviet director of masterpieces such as Potemkin and 10 Days That Shook the World.

Winner: Jean-Luc Godard.
Other nominations: Sean Penn, Mike Leigh, Ed Asner.

FILM REVIEW: I AM NUMBER FOUR

John Smith AKA Number Four (Alex Pettyfer) in I am Number Four.

More like a number two

By Don Simpson

Number Four (Alex Pettyfer) is a 15-year old alien teenager from the planet Lorien. Four and his guardian, Henri (Timothy Olyphant), are hiding on Earth (luckily the Loriens look and speak exactly like humans) from the Mogadorians, an evil race of aliens that are hunting down The Garde (Numbers One through Nine) sequentially.

I Am Number Four opens with the murder of Number Three (Greg Townley). Four is partying with some high school friends on the Florida coast when a third scar appears on his right ankle, signifying the death of Three. Four’s friends witness his glowing scar, so Henri must whisk Four off to Paradise -- Ohio, that is -- where Four is given the highly imaginative alias of John Smith.

Paradise promptly lives up to its name because this is where Four meets his true love, Sarah Hart (Dianna Agron), an amateur high school photographer. Four also befriends Sam (Callan McAuliffe), a geeky kid who believes in aliens. Oh, and Four repeatedly finds himself toe-to-toe with Sarah’s jock ex-boyfriend Mark (Jake Abel) -- who is not only the son of Paradise Sheriff’s (Jeff Hochendoner), but he is also the head honcho of a gaggle of high school bullies. Mark is merely a warm-up for Four’s impending encounter with the Mogadorians, who are hot on his trail. The oh so sultry Number Six (Teresa Palmer) also makes an appearance.

Alfred Gough and Miles Millar (the creators of the television series, Smallville) along with Marti Noxon (writer and producer for the television series,Buffy the Vampire Slayer) adapted the screenplay from the bestselling young adult novel by Pittacus Lore. Without knowing anything about the film’s writers, the very first thing I noted after the screening was that I Am Number Four is similar to Smallville (especially in terms of the dialogue) with an occasional glimpse of that certain brand of Whedonesque humor. I also noted several plot similarities to the television series. Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Something I realized after the fact is that all three television series and I Am Number Four share something else: a lead character whose destined role is to save the world, but their greatest desire is to just be a normal high school student.

Strangely enough-- for a film produced by Michael Bay at least -- I Am Number Four focuses mostly on developing the characters’ relationships with each other rather than wowing the audience with thrilling action sequences and special effects. (Do not misunderstand: there are thrills and special effects, but not nearly as many as one might expect.) Stranger still, I Am Number Four’s narrative structure feels like a piece of In Medias Res. The story seems to begin mid-action (in the grander scheme of events at least). The audience is given no real backstory to work with. We learn very little of the planet Lorien and its people -- except for the bare necessities about The Garde. I would have expected this story to begin on Lorien (or at least include flashbacks to Lorien history); or, if it did begin on Earth, I would have expected a very different starting point (maybe with the arrival of the Loriens on Earth or the murders of One and Two). But the film opts to stick very close to the narrative framing of the source novel, thus flinging us right into the middle of a much longer story. (Come to think of it, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope is very similar in this aspect. I Am Number Four is also destined to be a franchise film, and I would not be surprised if prequels are released at some point.) 

Surprisingly, that I Am Number Four’s narrative does not stand up well on its own is the movie's greatest weakness. While I often praise films that do not baby us with back story (especially in the form of voice-over narration or flashbacks), this is one of the rare occasions that I actually think the audience needs to know more about the past in order to fully appreciate the onscreen events. And even though it is quite commendable that I Am Number Four cares more about dialogue and relationships than thrills, the story probably deserves a bit more tension and a lot less predictability. I wonder if I Am Number Four would have worked better as a pilot for a television series?

I have to admit that I was most surprised by the acting performances, especially by Pettyfer, Agron and McAuliffe. Director D.J. Caruso (Eagle Eye; Disturbia) and cinematographer Guillermo Navarro (Pan’s Labyrinth; From Dusk Till Dawn) do a commendable job with the visualization of the story. They keep things fairly simple and low-key (I hesitate to go as far as “real”), using CGI as an occasional accent rather than a crutch to rely on.

Unfortunately, the story lacks any real substance and -- at the risk of being brutally honest -- this is one of the shallowest and most boring science fiction films I have watched in a long time. Personally, I prefer science fiction films that engage my mind, expounding upon philosophical theories and what have you, but I Am Number Four is basically just a coming-of-age/high school romance flick that happens to include an alien...who just happens to look like a male supermodel.

FILM REVIEW: THE EAGLE

Marcus Aquila (Channing Tatum) in The Eagle.

Talking about freedom

By Don Simpson

The year is 140 AD. The Roman Empire controls Britannia (England and Wales), while indigenous tribes hold their ground in Caledonia (Scotland). The Roman-constructed Hadrian's Wall separates the Romans from the rebellious Britons. Legend has it that twenty years prior, the entire Ninth Legion -- 5,000 men led by Flavius Aquila -- vanished in Caledonia losing the golden Eagle of the Ninth (the emblem of Roman honor that the Ninth Legion carried with them) in the process, forever marring Flavius’ (as well as his family’s) name. Aquila is Latin for eagle.

The Eagle begins shortly after a young centurion Marcus Aquila (Channing Tatum) requests to be stationed in Britannia. Marcus is given the command of a dangerously desolate northern outpost prone to raids by local druids.

Marcus’ sole purpose in life is to restore the reputation of his father, the aforementioned Flavius, but when Marcus is injured during a battle and brought to his Uncle’s (Donald Sutherland) residence to recover, he is honorably discharged from the military. How on earth can he restore his family’s honor now? Oh, that’s right! Find the long lost Eagle of the Ninth!

Of course Marcus cannot expect to survive in the uncharted region north of Hadrian's Wall -- otherwise known to Romans as “the end of the world” -- alone. Luckily he just recently saved a Briton’s life; and that Briton, Esca (Jamie Bell), is now Marcus’ slave. So, Marcus and Esca journey forth into the highlands of Caledonia on a hare-brained mission to find an eagle in a haystack...or a moor.

The always brooding Marcus is literally haunted by his father in flashbacks that reveal his intense desire to regain his family’s honor and prove that he is a great warrior capable of conquering the very same enemy that ruined his father’s good name. Even though he never really knew his father, Marcus is unabashedly loyal to him.

But there is much more to The Eagle than Marcus’ Freudian quest to find the Eagle that his father lost. There is also a complex relationship between the master and the slave in which both men’s loyalties (to country, family and friend) are severely tested. Marcus and Esca must come to terms with the bloody histories of their families; reconciling their pasts, all the while separating their pasts from their present. Honor and faithfulness drive Marcus (who truly earns the pia fidelis inscription on his war medal) and Esca to achieve greatness, to do the impossible. (Of course they do the impossible!) They are great fighters, but it is only when they realize the senselessness of violence that they truly evolve into near-mythical warriors.

Based on Rosemary Sutcliff’s historical-adventure novel, The Eagle of the Ninth (published in 1954), Scottish director Kevin Macdonald (State of Play, The Last King of Scotland) opts for plot and message over violence and action. The Eagle has much more in common with the slowly paced Westerns of Hollywood’s past than anything resembling a modern historical-adventure fantasy flick -- well, other than the fantastically lush cinematography by Anthony Dod Mantle (127 Hours, Antichrist, Slumdog Millionaire). Don’t get me wrong, there are fight scenes; but a majority of the film is comprised of Channing’s brooding face with a gorgeous backdrop of the Scottish Highlands.

I got to give Macdonald a lot of credit for making this into an anti-action genre film. Despite its annoyingly predictable plot, the film’s heart-y message really won me over -- and I do not mean heart in the romantic way (well, unless you choose to read any homoerotic subtext into Marcus and Esca’s master/slave relationship), because there is nary a dame onscreen. (These are manly men doing manly things with other manly men; this is no place for lady-folk.)

Macdonald’s two major missteps are his casting of Channing as Marcus and the incredibly drab dialogue all around. Channing is a one note, one facial expression kind of actor and the character of Marcus deserved significantly more personality than Channing could ever offer him. (Having to act in a handful of scenes against Tahar Rahim only magnifies Channing’s flaws tenfold.) The dialogue, penned by Jeremy Brock (The Last King of Scotland), does not do Channing any favors either.

TOP TEN THEATER 2010: ED RAMPELL'S LC PICKS



A scene from Waiting for Lefty.

Live and kicking

By Ed Rampell

Expressing the zeitgeist of the times, 2010 saw an emerging trend of left-leaning plays and operas on the Left Coast.

Theatre West staged a powerful revival of Clifford Odets’ classic Depression era pro-strike proletarian drama Waiting For Lefty.

The second act of the new Charlie Chaplin bio-play called Limelight: The Story of Charlie Chaplin at the La Jolla Playhouse near San Diego is primarily political, as the Little Tramp takes on Hitler in The Great Dictator and outspokenly advocates opening a second front during WWII in order to relieve the Soviets’ burden. The musical also vividly depicts the Redbaiting, surveilling and blacklisting of the sympathetically portrayed Chaplin, as well as a Communist rally with red flags.

As did Il Postino, the operatic adaptation of the 1990s Italian film about Chilean poet Pablo Neruda -- portrayed by the greatest living tenor, Placido Domingo -- and a simple mailman, whom the Marxist Neruda transforms into a writer and militant, who is eventually assassinated by reactionary police at a Communist demonstration full of red flags. In this L.A Opera production, instead of being portrayed as bogeymen, the Communist Neruda and mailman are the opera’s noble heroes.

The Latino Theater Company’s La Victima explored the vicissitudes of Chicano migrant laborers north of the border and depicts a United Farm Workers’ strike.

Carry It On! premiered at Topanga Canyon’s Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum, co-founded by the blacklisted actor who co-starred in 1954’s classic, Salt of the Earth, and eventually played TV’s Grandpa Walton. A sort of people’s history of America told largely through protest songs, progressive whites are portrayed in Carry It On!, including Woody Guthrie, Mark Twain, Lincoln, Walt Whitman, Susan B. Anthony, Mother Jones, Lillian Hellman and Cindy Sheehan, as well as notable Blacks, like Harriett Tubman and Martin Luther King (vividly depicted by Gerald C. Rivers).

L.A. Opera’s glorious production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s immortal The Marriage of Figaro was deliriously uplifting and joyous, making one glad to be alive, if for no other reason than to see and hear shows like this.

Academy Award winner Tim Robbins’ Actors’ Gang play, Break the Whip, deconstructs the Jamestown colony with a story told from the point of view of slaves, indentured servants and American Indians.

The Sacred Fools Theater premiered Watson, The Last Great Tale of the Legendary Sherlock Holmes, a Sherlockian spoof told from Dr. Watson’s point of view, with much whimsy, drollery and French Stewart in a dual role –- as Dr. Sigmund Freud and Queen Victoria.

The Odyssey Theatre presented Tales From Hollywood by Christopher Hampton, a dramedy about European literary refugees fleeing Hitler and winding up in La-La-Land. The play’s lefty highlights include: Daniel Zacapa (who bears an uncanny resemblance to Jean-Luc Godard) as playwright Bertolt Brecht, a Jewish-American female screenwriter who joins the Communist Party, a Soviet diplomat, the playing of the “Internationale,” etc.

My favorite 2010 play was, but of course, the one that I wrote: Still Standing, The Musical, a dramatization of the life and hard times of Kenyan rapper Gleam Joel, directed by Iona Morris, choreographed by Tor Campbell. Gleam wrote the lyrics for the songs composed by Sergio Fertitta in this hip-hop musical, wherein gangsta Gleam eventually turns his back on the thug life and finds spiritual salvation. We performed the play at Long Beach and flew the L.A. cast -- including Taylor McKinney, Eddie Wheeler, Vernetra Gavin, Constance Reese, Chris Allen, Brooke Bridges, Lloyd Collins and Harry Zinn -- to Switzerland, where Still Standing received standing ovations.

PRODUCT: JASON NATURAL

Jason's Sunbrella

Sunbrella for El and Ella

By Aja Davis

It’s almost impossible not to hear about the effects that too much sun can have on your skin. Even with all of the warnings, as adults we don’t take caution to this warning. Not only do we need to protect our skin during those sunny days, we are still absorbing UV rays during rainy, snowy and overcast conditions. Some people, especially olive toned or African Americans believe and have been told that they are less likely to feel the affects of sunburn. It is a fact that they have a lower chance in getting sunburned but are still prone to getting age spots, wrinkles, and skin cancer. Wearing sunscreen everyday is highly recommended. There are many sunscreens out on the market, but so little of them have everything you need or want.

Jason Natural sunblock goes far beyond expectations. What stands out the most is, it is geared toward family. The elderly to young children can wear it. It is wonderful to all skin types, especially the sensitive skin. It is a natural, chemical free product. Most sun blocks contain a chemical preservative called Paraben, which has been linked to tumors and hormone abnormalities. Jason has steered clear from this and is certified organic. It is full of antioxidants which also help with the premature aging of your skin. There is even a lip balm that smells nice like a non overwhelming mint.

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FILM REVIEW: SANCTUM

A scene from Sanctum.

Si see sea C

By Ed Rampell

Almost a century ago motion picture pioneer D.W. Griffith, who helped create the cinematic art form, said, “The task I am trying to achieve is above all to make you see.” James Cameron, the auteur behind 2009’s epic Avatar, is continuing to do just that with Sanctum, the underwater cave diving extravaganza shot in mind blowingly glorious 3D and IMAX.

Set in Papua New Guinea Sanctum is the story of a hardy group of explorers who set out to discover the inner recesses of Esa’ala Cave, the planet’s least accessible cave system, which human eyes have never before beheld. Predictably, disaster strikes, and Sanctum becomes a saga about the struggle for survival, somewhat in the vein of 127 Hours crossed by the 1959 version of Journey to the Center of the Earth, based on Jules Verne’s immortal novel. Sanctum also features a father-son struggle of Ivan Turgenev proportions between the hardass lead explorer and master diver, Frank McGuire (Richard Roxburgh) and his teenage son, Josh (Rhys Wakefield). Throw into this volatile mix some damsels in distressm Victoria (Alice Parkinson) and Liz (Nicole Downes), a greedy capitalist (Ioan Gruffudd) who underwrites then undermines this mission impossible, shake, do not stir, and you have the explosive ingredients for a dramatic film. And considering Sanctum’s psychological familial dynamics, you don’t have to be a Sigmund Freud to figure out that the submerged caverns and tunnels symbolize the womb, birth channel, etc.

However, the film’s acting is mediocre (with the possible exception of Wakefield, who literally rises to the occasion), as is the so-so script by John Garvin and Andrew Wight (the latter is an actual spelunker -- Sanctum is loosely suggested by a 1988 cave expedition that went wrong). The vulgarities and brash behavior are meant to let audiences know what a group of bold souls these explorers be. Grufford’s clichéd capitalist is another one of Cameron’s greedy pigs in Titanic, Avatar, etc.

In Sanctum, once again, the indigenous people are reduced to being mere background in their own country, as the Black Papuans are mainly porters who serve the all-important whitey bwanas (it’s their story, after all), who are Australians and Americans.  The sole token Native cave diver, Luko (Cramer Cain), disappears off the screen pretty quickly, too. Those islanders are expendable in their own islands.

Director Alister Grierson’s only other feature, 2006’s Kokoda, was also set in what the production notes call “New Guinea.” However, Sanctum was actually shot on location at Australia and in a studio, not in Melanesia -- another trite trope of the South Seas Cinema film genre, that includes Pacific Island shot and/or set classics such as Mutiny on the Bounty and The Hurricane. I guess if you’ve seen one island, you’ve seen them all.

But never mind all this, which is run-of-the-movie-mill for special effects-driven films, where plot, characterization, dialogue, thespianism, etc., all take second place to the real raison d’etre and star of the big picture: the Cameron/Pace Fusion 3D Camera System. Sanctum’s story is merely an excuse for this revolutionary cinematic technique and format, and for using it in fascinating, stunning settings, both exterior and interior. You absolutely must see Sanctum in IMAX – some of the exquisite cinematography is absolutely startling and jaw dropping, from those lifelike underwater bubbles gurgling upwards – seemingly surrounding viewers – to those panoramic aerial shots that put audiences in the eye-popping choppers.

Some auds complained about technical problems when they viewed Avatar, but the Sanctum private screening I attended at an AMC Burbank on an IMAX screen was flawless and nothing short of visually spectacular. This is not the first time that South Seas Cinema has been shot in a new cinematic technique – William Castle’s 1954 Drums of Tahiti was shot in 3D, so there’s was lots of spears thrown right at the camera lenses in order to make ticket buyers duck for cover. And 1958’s South Seas Adventure there was a travelogue shot in the Cinerama widescreen process. But with Sanctum, the visionary Cameron and crew have made a major addition to the South Seas Cinema genre, and more importantly to film culture. In the best D.W. Griffith tradition, they are making audiences see in new ways.