Summer Daze

Theater No Comments »

For me, the dog days of August seem to be almost interminably crawling by, with an overall hazy, languorous feel to them that makes me all the more want to stay cooped up in my air-conditioned apartment watching the men’s springboard diving at the Beijing Olympics (if cutting-edge NASA technology was used to develop the new aerodynamic Speedo body swimsuit the swimmers are wearing, I wonder what technological marvel could have come up with Alexandre Despatie’s diving trunks? Uhmmm…I’m sure you Halsted queen bees have a multitude of theories running through your, ahh, heads…). There hasn’t been a lot of arts and culture events to go to (or at least any that I am particularly interested in), so I have been catching up a lot on news of what’s coming up.

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Two Films

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contempt.jpgLast Monday, I finally left the ranks of the eight people or so in the whole city that have not yet seen The Dark Knight.  I’m normally not a comic book kind of guy, but what with all the hype, hysteria, and never-ending water cooler discussions about the movie, plus my own inherent curiosity about how good Heath Ledger’s last film performance was, I just had to bite the bullet and go.  Plus, I did see the original Batman with Michael Keaton, and the super-campy one with the codpieces and the plastic nipples with George Clooney and Chris O’Donnell, and truth be told, enjoyed both of them; and I’m a big fan of Christopher Nolan’s Memento, so this movie couldn’t be all bad.  And it wasn’t (although I felt it could have ended at least forty minutes earlier than it did).  Two days later, I managed to catch one of the last screenings of Jean-Luc Godard’s seminal 1960s classic, Contempt (Le Mepris), during its limited revival at the Music Box Theater.  Many film scholars consider Contempt as an aberration in the Godard oeuvre - it is his one foray into commercial cinema, with a narrative that is somewhat more accessible than his other masterpieces.  While The Dark Knight is absolutely not at the cinematic level of Contempt, one of the pinnacles of world cinema, I couldn’t help but be struck by the similarity between Nolan’s and Godard’s ambitions and achievement. The Dark Knight takes the comic book genre and the generic Hollywood blockbuster and both adhered to, and refreshed and re-imagined, their conventions:  amidst the multitude of breathtaking, blazing, action movie set pieces is a reflective tale of the inherent fallibility of human nature and the near-impossibility of categorizing who is a hero and who is a villain, who is virtuous and who is weak-willed.  Contempt, on the other hand, also takes the conventions of 1960s Cinemascope, “international co-productions”, which it can be initially lumped with, such as panoramic, bright-hued views of Capri, characters who speak in English, Italian, and French, and abundant female pulchritude (in this case Brigitte Bardot’s) and wrapped a compelling story of various levels of breakdowns (marital, artistic, virtue) around them, using risky but innovative directorial techniques such as a 35 minute sequence shot in near real time in the closed quarters of an apartment.

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Not curious at all?

Culture 3 Comments »

The Playgoer last week posted a link to a very interesting “thinkpiece” that Scott Timberg wrote a couple of Sundays ago for the Los Angeles Times, which discussed various cultural trends that seem to be currently in play, most especially the blurring of the distinction between ”high culture” and ”popular culture”.  There are a lot of intriguing tidbits in the article that I’ve been reflecting on, so I’ll probably come back to it in subsequent blog posts.   One of the things that first struck me, though, is this quote from the terrific writer Pico Iyer (his twenty-year old book Video Night in Kathmandu:  And Other Reports from the Not-So-Far-Eastis still, in my opinion, one of the most informed, most understanding, and most articulate observations of Southeast and East Asian cultures that I have read from someone not from those cultures), one of the culturatis and intellectual types that Timberg interviewed:  “What we seem to have nowadays is more of a hierarchy of media…whereby, for example, dance, classical music, opera, and even theater and books, all of which commanded their own sections in Time magazine only a generation ago, are now regarded as lofty and remote subjects for only a handful of connoisseurs.”  Timber then says that Iyer further notes that we feel guilty that we have become “elitist” if we go and listen to chamber orchestra or jazz, or any of the arts that the current cultural milieu have labeled “elitist”.   It’s a fascinating, and to be honest, frustrating point for me.  I have touched on a similar vein in this blogpost from last November:  I’ve noticed that many of my peers, my peeps, the late20/thirty/early40somethings desired as cultural consumers, have not had consistent experiences in the theater, or at the opera and symphony, or with modern or classical dance.  Actually, some of them have never had any experiences at all.  Which is really disturbing for me, because for these art forms to continue and flourish in the future, they should have an influx of new, fresh, rejuvenated audiences.  One thing I wanted Iyer, or Timberg, for that matter, to further expound on is the reason why our current culture have labeled these art forms as “elitist”.  Is it because theater, the symphony, etc. are seen as “expensive”?  Hmmm…last Saturday, I was at a FREE (yes free) Grant Park Orchestra concert, sitting in the orchestra section of the fantastically minimalist and acoustically-superb Harris Theater, listening entranced to highly-acclaimed (and current Chicago Symphony Orchestra composer-in-residence) composer Osvaldo Golijov’s searing, profound masterwork “Last Round”, based on a short story by famed Argentinian novelist Julio Cortazar, while some of my friends paid for a $60 day pass (or maybe even a $190 three-day pass) for Lollapalooza.  The Hypocrites, TUTA, Greasy Joan, Red Orchid, Strange Tree Group, or any of the myriad storefront theaters who bring innovative, intelligent, exceptionally acted and directed theatrical productions to Chicago audiences, charge only 20 bucks a ticket, which is so much less than what one would be spending at Retro on Roscoe or the multitude of interchangeable summer street fairs in Chicago, and only slightly more than an IMAX ticket for The Dark Knight.  Is it because theater, opera, etc., require a lot of time commitment?  Well, only if you’re going to Wagner operas or O’Neill plays.  Keith Huff’s Pursued by Happiness, the most impressive of the three new plays currently being staged in repertory at Steppenwolf’s First Look Repertory of New Work, clocks in at a compact 90 minutes of engaging and surprising emotional situations.  Or is this purported “elitism” really a codeword for cultural forms that require focus, concentration, introspective appreciation, abstract thinking?  Of course, going to a Brecht play is a different intellectual experience that going to a Radiohead concert.  Both can be equally satisfying, but not a lot of people in my generation seem to want to give Brecht a chance.  Yes, it is a generation that is used to mass media, commoditized consumption, and instant gratification - and have these then made it a generation lacking in intellectual curiosity bordering on laziness?

Dining Theatrics

Food No Comments »

I’m sorry to disappoint anyone, but, despite the title, this blogpost is not about Chanhassen Dinner Theaters or Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding (and I’m sure some of you have thought I’ve come down from my pretty little perch on a marble pedestal…uhmmm…no), nor is it about some loud, dramatic break-up scene I may have had with a mysterious lover from out-of-town over the caprese salad at Follia (a more unlikely event than the plopping from the pedestal).  Nope, this is about a highly memorable, truly mind-opening, three hour dinner at Moto, that shrine to the progeny of science and gastronomy in the Fulton Market district, built by wunderkind chef Homaro Cantu (who, among many accolades, is probably most famous to the average person as the guy who beat Morimoto in Iron Chef, a feat in itself).  Moto, together with Alinea, really helped create the reputation and stature that Chicago now has on the world map of boundary-pushing dining, a pretty exclusive map that includes Ferran Adria’s El Bulli in Spain and Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck in the UK.  Without a doubt, its reputation for highly imaginative, unexpected, sometimes dumfounding, always thrilling, and yes, impressively theatrical dining, is well-deserved.  Although I felt that some of the dishes were less successful than others in the 12 course tasting menu, the overall experience was uniquely wonderful and indelible, and for the most part, headily delicious.  I can’t wait to go back!

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Finishing the Hat

Theater No Comments »

One of the highlights of my past two summers was participating in Steppenwolf Theater’s unique, new play development program called First Look Repertory of New Work, through its audience-interactive component, First Look 101. First Look 101 provided 101 subscribers, supporters, and audience members with phenomenal multiple opportunities to observe and provide feedback on the three new plays being developed and workshopped as part of First Look Repertory, from table reading to initial rehearsal to technical rehearsal to actual performance. The 101ers could either follow one play from the beginning, or drop into multiple plays at different parts of the development process. Additionally, there were new play readings, a new play symposium, and other assorted activities (last year, I think it numbered 21 different activities throughout the summer) that gave the First Look 101 participants a very privileged immersion into the art and craft of creating new theater. For a theater geek like me, it was pure bliss, a one-of-kind, insightful look into the creative process; maybe sort of akin to feeling like Winona Ryder in a fully-stocked and surveillance-camera-free Nordstroms. In the 2006 First Look, I followed Kate Fodor’s luminous 100 Saints You Should Know from table reading to rehearsals to performance, so I was very delighted to see it’s off-Broadway incarnation last year, which received good reviews. Although Janel Maloney, Jeremy Shamus, Zoe Kazan, and, especially, the great Lois Smith gave wonderfully truthful and riveting performances in New York, I still couldn’t erase the indelible performances that I saw in Chicago of K.K. Dodds, John Hoogenakker, Kelly O’Sullivan, and Mary Ann Thebus, as well as the discussions around the characterization of the mother betweeen Thebus, Fodor, and the Chicago production’s director, BJ Jones, which the First Look 101ers were very lucky to eavesdrop on during rehearsals. In the 2007 First Look, I attended a rehearsal where there were scenes being re-written and new ones added for the marvelous When the Messenger Is Hot, Laura Eason’s adaptation of Elizabeth Crane’s collection of short stories about women coping with family tragedy, romantic mishaps, and late 30s early midlife crises. When the Messenger is Hot, which was my favorite from last year’s group of new plays, ended up off-Broadway too last year at 59E59, with most of the original Chicago cast led by Steppenwolf ensemble member Kate Arrington. I didn’t participate in this year’s First Look 101 due to a hectic late spring/early summer, but I vowed to catch all three of the new plays last weekend. Since all three plays are new works that are still in various levels of development, I won’t be posting detailed critical impressions in deference to the playwrights’ and the program’s creative processes and intentions. As it is with new plays, I think all three would be better served by further work, some more so than others. But I was very impressed by two of them, and hope that they get further productions either in Chicago, New York City, or somewhere else, because they deserve to be enjoyed by a wide audience.  I think Pursued by Happiness, written by A Steady Rain (one of my favorite plays of the year) scribe Keith Huff, and directed by ensemble member Tim Hopper, is the one most ready for primetime among the three plays. It is a wonderfully quirky and ultimately poignant piece about single 40something research scientists who discover that late-blooming romance isn’t all sweetness and light. Although it goes into unexpected, but very welcome, directions, the themes and characters are meticulously realized. Jason Wells’ Perfect Mendacity, about leaks of corporate secrets, directed by OBIE winner David Cromer, who I am hopelessly starstruck by, is provocative and intellectually challenging and Sarah Gubbins’ Fair Use, directed by Meredith McDonough, about lawyers defending a novelist accused of plagiarism, has some laugh-out loud lines but I feel it requires a little more development.  First Look Repertory runs till August 10 (check out www.steppenwolf.org for days and times of the three plays since they’re in rotation); please support new play development in the city (oh and you can always tell your snotty New York friends you saw THAT play first in Chicago!).  Additionally, here is a very nicely-written article article about First Look’s Grand Poobah and Steppenwolf’s Director of New Play Development, and the dramaturg for August:  Osage County himself, the brilliant Ed Sobel.

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Thank You for the Music

Film No Comments »

mammamiaposter2.jpgI am sure many of my avid blog readers will find this hard to believe, but sometimes I just want to be entertained.  Yes, there are days when any thoughts of seeing one more obscure foreign-language film, or another experimental, multi-media theater piece, or one more obtuse visual artwork are banished from my hurting brain.  Sometimes, even I surrender at the thought of any more Peter Sellars or Eugene Ionesco.  I’m sure Meryl Streep also has days when she’s had had enough of mastering difficult, foreign accents, or playing intense, emotional roller-coaster dramatic scenes, days when all she wants to do is sing “Waterloo” and do a split in midair while wearing overalls and a mop of stringy hair.  And thank heavens for all of us, she does those, as well as play air guitar, fall through a roof, wear a spandex spacesuit, and lead a conga line for “Dancing Queen” in the absolutely, wonderfully, irresistibly entertaining film version of the stage hit Mamma Mia!  The divine Ms. Streep looks like she’s actually having a ball, and that is the one surefire way to get audiences to heartily feel that the nine dollars they paid to see her is worth it.  Of course, Mamma Mia! has built in terrific-time-ness:  who can resist the superficial yet snappy, infectious musical rhythms and endearing, perplexingly syntaxed Scandinavian-English lyrics of ABBA’s invaluable songbook?  Songs like “Take a Chance on Me” and “Chiquitita” are like candybars without the calories, instant gratification without the queasy need to take a shower right after.  I’m not really sure what these cranky film reviewers were expecting- have they not seen the play?  Mamma Mia! is not about plot, or realism, or nuanced, multi-dimensional characters.  It’s about ABBA songs and the pleasures that they give.  And the movie makes these pleasures seem even more, uhmmm, pleasurable, by having Christine Baranski redefine what it means to be a trainstopping cougar in “Does Your Mother Know That You’re Out?”; by having Julie Walters knock out both physical comedy and emotive singing in the hilarious “Take a Chance on Me”; by having Colin Firth in paisley pants and Dominic Cooper in almost nothing (love this boy! I saw him in the Broadway production of The History Boys, and everytime he was on stage you really didn’t want to look at Richard Griffiths, the scenery, or anything else, actually, but I digress); and by having Ms. Meryl Streep, greatest living American actress, show she’s having a hell of a time belting the schmaltz and the corn and the quirky grammar of “Winner Takes It All”, and proving to one and all that she can be as riveting as Sophie or Karen Silkwood or Isak Dinesen when playing a role that’s a walk in the park, in a film that’s as glossy and shallow as the Greek ocean that permeates it.

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