Joe Cillo

A Late Quartet

Directed by Yaron Zilberman

 

 

This is the story of a classical string quartet in crisis due to the illness and departure of its cellist and senior member, Peter Mitchell (Christopher Walken).  It is a powerful, moving story, but I doubt that it will have a wide audience.  The audience for this film is devotees of classical music, students in music conservatories, and fusty old conservatives with very conventional ideas about music, sex, and relationships.

It is a film for mature audiences.  When I say “mature audience” I don’t mean that it has sexual content and is therefore not suitable for young people.  On the contrary, I think sexual content is especially appropriate for young people because they are most curious and preoccupied with sexual feelings and issues, and should therefore be taking every opportunity to learn about it in any way they can.  “Mature audience,” for me, means an audience that has lived long enough to grasp the complexities and layers of personal relationships that have continued over a long period of time.  “Mature” means having perspective, being able to see the context in which passions and longings are played out, understanding the limitations and trade-offs, and ambivalences that are inevitable in human relations.  Being able to see that things change and evolve, and what is true today, may not be true tomorrow, and what was true yesterday may no longer be true today however much we might wish it to be.  It means being able to face up to what we are as people defined by what we have done or not done, rather than by what we have wished or strived for.  Young people can grasp these things intellectually, but they don’t know, and can’t know, what it feels like and looks like to a much older person.  That is just the nature of being younger or older.  That is the meaning of “maturity.”   So when I say that this film is for a mature audience, this is what I am talking about.  The issues are mature and the themes are mature.  I don’t mean to say that young people should not see it.  They absolutely should, because it will help them understand older people.  But the issues of the film are not their issues, with the exception of the sexual affairs between the younger girls and the older men, which the film treats very badly, trivializing them, and dismissing them in a rather callous, nonsensical fashion.

I like the subject matter, and the film is very well made, but I have a number of problems with the script.  The female characters are not well drawn, and I think, given short shrift.  The most promising character in the whole film, Alexandra (Imogen Poots), is turned into a confused, spineless, simpering jellyfish.  Juliette, (Catherine Keener) the violist and wife of the second violinist, Robert (Philip Seymour Hoffman), and the mother of Alexandra, is not fleshed out at all.  She becomes a very conventional and inadequate housewife and mother whose only asset seems to be her role as violist in the quartet.  She fails as a wife and she fails as a mother, and is rather problematic throughout the saga.  She seems to want to keep everything the way it has been, but she is not very effective in anything she attempts and we do not see who she is in any depth.

Although sex plays a major role in the story line, the film upholds very conventional middle class attitudes toward sex and relationships, which have nothing to offer but disappointment, defeat, and failure, and you’re supposed to just live with that.  Robert, the second violinist, whose dissatisfaction with his role in the quartet and his marriage is one of the dynamic forces in the film, ends up being defeated in all his attempts to shake things up and alter his position vis-a-vis the others in the group.  He starts an affair with a young flamenco dancer (Liraz Charhi) that gets nipped in the bud by his wife after their first night together, and the very appealing girl is rudely dismissed.  He should have fought harder for her, but he was a total wimp and caved in to his wife with hardly a protest.  The incident did prompt them to hash out some of the issues in their marriage, which are of long standing, as such things usually are, but they don’t really get anywhere.  Juliette takes the typical attitude of the American middle class woman and is prepared to trash the whole marriage because her husband fucked a young dancer one time.  It’s so idiotic.  I’ve seen people blow up twenty year marriages, sell houses, move long distances, fight bitterly over kids and money, all on account of a little bit of outside fucking.  Americans are crazy.  So while the film panders to conventional attitudes, it fails to offer anything constructive or insightful.  It doesn’t raise any questions.  It just proffers pat answers that it takes for granted.

Similarly with the affair between Daniel (Mark Ivanir), the first violinist, and Alexandra, the daughter of Robert and Juliette.  Daniel and Alexandra have probably known each other since she was born.  The first question you have to ask yourself is why this affair even happened?  As the film presents it — which I don’t quite believe — Robert recommends Alexandra to Daniel for violin lessons.  Daniel treats her like a child and belittles her.  He tells her she is not ready to tackle Beethoven’s Opus 131.  I suspect that is something music students often hear from their teachers, that certain pieces are beyond their understanding and they should wait until they are older or more mature before they tackle them.  What a lot of quatch!  So what if you make mistakes?  So what if you don’t understand it fully?  Go ahead and plunge into it, if you feel a strong urge beckoning you!  Defy them!  I mean it!  Of course you’ll play it better when you’re fifty.  You better hope you will.  But you have to start where you are, when you feel the desire and enthusiasm to tackle the challenging new project.  If you wait for a bunch of old people to bless you and tell you you’re ready, you’ll never do anything.  She should have ripped the music book in half and stormed out.  Instead she seduces him.  She is the aggressor and the initiator of the affair.  She seemed to be seeking his approval, and she wasn’t getting it through her violin playing, so she had another way of getting it that she knew would work for sure.  OK, so once you get him, what do you do with him?  Here the film reaches its low point of nonsense.  The affair is quickly discovered by the others in the group, in particular, by her parents, and they go into apoplexy.  Why?  Why is it so objectionable to them?  The film treats their disapproval as something self evident and unproblematic.  But the affair is quite natural and almost predictable.  Robert, in the most dramatic moment of the film –, and very much out of character for a string quartet — punches Daniel in the face and knocks him off his chair during rehearsal — a punch that will probably be applauded by every second violinist around the world.  But it is total nonsense.   Robert becomes a ridiculous figure, flailing about violently, out of control, completely helpless and totally ineffective.   Alexandra stands up very admirably to her mother, but then turns around and inexplicably dismisses Daniel and ends the affair that she just started, although Daniel is firm in his resolve to continue with it in the face of all the opposition — the only one in the film with any real character.  But this makes Alexandra look like a weak, confused, immature idiot.  This is why I think this film treats the women with pronounced hostility.  All of the sexual affairs — which are initiated by the young women — are quickly and definitively crushed, but for no good reason.  The film is simply hostile to sexual relationships that don’t fit into the mold of conventional middle class marriage.  This gives the film an atmosphere of mundane conservatism.  It is very ordinary.  Nothing like Beethoven.

I should probably say something about the Beethoven Quartet Opus 131 in C# minor that plays a thematic role in the film.   The choice of this particular quartet as a centerweight to this film is very appropriate because of the broad emotional range found throughout the quartet from anguish, contention, and turmoil, to relaxed, airy, lighthearted fun, as well as some enigmatic aspects that are difficult to penetrate.  This quartet is rather unusual.  It is in seven movements instead of the usual four, and Beethoven wanted them played without the usual pauses between the movements.  So it makes for a rather long, continuous piece that is demanding for both performers and audience.  Beethoven expected people to have long attention spans.  He should have lived in America for a while.  The piece is somber and anguished.  The first movement is painful.  It is a fugue that stabs at your heart.  The second and fifth movements are much more upbeat, especially the fifth movement, which is essentially a scherzo.   It is somewhat repetitious, but vigorous and lively.  The second movement is bright and almost lilting.  The third and sixth movements are very short and seem to serve as introductions to the longer, more substantial movements that follow.  The sixth movement is a somber, mournful dirge that segues into the vigorous final movement.  The fourth movement is quite long, nearly fifteen minutes.  I found it difficult to relate to.  I couldn’t seem to get a fix on it, emotionally.  There seems to be a longing that is not well defined.  The anguish is there, but it is subdued, almost below the surface, threatening to break through in points but never quite taking over.  Some of the good cheer fleetingly appears and then vanishes just as suddenly.  I don’t get it, and I think it is the heart of the quartet.  It seems to be the center of gravity of the whole piece.  The last movement is rough, contentious, and full of struggle and drama.  This quartet is a mature piece that challenges both the listener and the performer.  It is very fitting to the issues besetting this group of people.

The film has a lot to say about music and performance that will be of keen interest to musicians.  I found it to be very touching and moving.  It could have been a great movie if it had not taken such a conventional, mediocre attitude toward the story line.  At the end of the film the cellist is replaced by a new member, who has worked with the group before, and is judged to be a good fit that will maintain the established character of the group.  So everything stays the way it was.  The quartet continues on playing the same music with the same character and style.  The sexual affairs with the young girls are ended.  The marriage seems to be limping along as it had before.  Everything ends up pretty close to the way it was at the beginning.  Only the cellist is replaced.  And that is supposed to be a happy, harmonious ending.  What a crock!  It makes a mockery of the whole film.  What was all the contention and struggle about if we end up with essentially the same quartet, playing in the same style, in the same personal relationships?  Does the mere presence of a stable cellist subdue all the conflict and dissatisfaction that was afflicting this group from long before this movie started?  This film should be titled “The Triumph of Conservatism and Conventionality in Classical Music and in Life.”

This quartet should have broken up like the Beatles.  I thought about that as I was watching it.  The married couple should have separated or divorced.  The daughter should have moved in with the first violinist.  The second violinist should have left, founded his own quartet and been very successful, and the flamenco dancer should have gotten pregnant with the second violinist’s child.  Now that would have been a good movie.

The Shelton Theater presents……

THE RAINMAKER

By

Richard Nash

Directed by Julie Dimas-Lockfeld

Starring Amanda Gerard-Shelton & Matt Shelton

Magic is believing in yourself.

If you can do that, you can make anything happen.

Goethe

Part of the mission of the Shelton Theater is “to communicate what it means to be human in the world” and Richard Nash’s classic play does just that.  “This poetic story has touched us with its quirky nature and courage to embrace the unknown,” says Director Julie Dimas-Lockfeld.  “It only takes a sliver of hope…to step into the grandeur of a larger and even more real perspective.”

 

Lockfeld worked with actors who have studied at The Shelton Studios.  Together, they created a moving tale of hope, love and beauty “The story for me becomes a romance between the elements of earth and sky – caring and dreaming,” says Lockfeld.  “The heart of the story is about opening up our closed minds and valuing what is right here. Funny thing is that what is here is so much more than what we imagined.”

 

For those of you who do not know the story of The Rainmaker, it is set in rural depression America during a drought that is destroying livestock, crops and hope.  Lizzie (Amanda Gerard-Shelton) is farmer H.C (Phillip Estrin)’s only daughter.  She is single, lonely and as big a source of worry to her father and two brothers as the lack of rain.

 

Noah, her older brother sees her for what she really is, a plan, quiet girl whose prospects diminish with each passing year, but her father sees the beauty that is beneath the surface: her goodness, her honesty and her compassion for others.  He loves her and wants her to find love and companionship, security and comfort.  The younger brother, Jim (John Kiernan) is a bit of a lush and a dreamer and does not realize that while he squanders money and time womanizing and drinking, his family needs him at home to help with the farm.

 

Into this quagmire of starving cattle, failing crops, spinsterhood and frustration comes Starbuck (Matt Shelton) a con man whose real name is Smith.  Shelton has created a character so charming and charismatic that his chicanery only adds to his appeal.  He burst into the kitchen and his appeal mesmerizes both the audience and the family on stage.  “I woke up this morning and I said to the world, this world is going at it all wrong” he says.  The family is so hungry for hope that Starbuck manages to convince H.C. and Jim to give him $100 to make it rain.  Both Lizzie and Noah doubt the rainmaker, but he reassures them: “Maybe God whispered a special word in my ear.”  He goes on to say, “Faith is believing you see white when your eyes tell you black.”

 

This is an ensemble piece and all the actors support one another beautifully, but it is Amanda Gerard-Shelton’s professionally accurate and sensitive performance that carries the play.  We not only hear her need in her speech, we see it in her eyes and her every movement.  She is lonely and she has accepted that all those hopes she once had will never come true.   “I’m sick and tired of being me,” she tells Starbuck and she goes out to the tack room where he is sleeping to find out if there can ever be something more in life for her.   Starbuck convinces her that beauty begins in the mind.  Sometimes, he says, it is a good thing to ignore what seems real, and believe that life is the way you want it to be.

 

When the brothers realize their spinster sister has spent the night with a crazy man they hardly know, they are scandalized. But H.C, knows the importance of love even if it is only for a moment.  He tells Noah,” You are so full or what right you can’t see what’s good.”

 

And indeed that is the point of this play.  We so often let our minds get in the way of our hearts that we keep ourselves from living the lives we could have if we but reached for the stars.

 

The set designed by Steve Coleman is a perfect replica of the time and place.  It sustains the mood of the play and yet looks as if it were plucked out of an American farmhouse from long ago.   Lockfeld uses the magic strains of the violin and artistic lighting to bring the audience into the world they see on stage.

 

The first thing we see is Lizzie in her bunk bed sleeping and we know that she is the fulcrum of the story.  “I just thought that this story is actually more of a fable. It’s more like elements in the psyche and I had the idea to style the production as a storybook tale. I wanted the experience of the actors to be real and personal and we keep working to grow that truth of experience in our work,” said Lockfeld. “Then maybe our modern sophistication and political correctness could be suspended a bit and we could enjoy the old fashioned family love, living close to the land, keeping faith in your heart qualities of The Rainmaker.”

 

The story, sentimental as it is, touches on important truths that transcend generations.  Only we can live our lives and only we can make those lives magic.  Lizzie says to Starbuck, “Maybe if you’d keep company with the world…if you saw it real.”

But the truth is that if we can believe in miracles, they will comfort us. As T. S. Elliot once said, “Mankind cannot stand too much reality.”

 

This is a beautiful production, understated and real.  It lasts an hour and 35 minutes without intermission and in that short space of time, you will be transported into a charming world where thinking makes it so.

Where there is great love
There are always miracles.
 Willa Cather

IF YOU GO….

WHERE: The Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter, San Francisco

WHEN: Now through December 22, 2012,

Fridays and Saturdays, 8 PM

TICKETS: $38 GENERAL ADMISSION

WWW SHELTONTHEATER.ORG

1 800 838 3006

 

 

 

 

 

The weekend beginning Friday, November 16 through Sunday the 18^th , the Fall Fringe of Marin presents its final weekend of two programs of new, original one act plays under the auspices of the Dominican University Players  in Meadowlands Hall on its San Rafael campus.

Program One plays on Saturday, November 17.   It opens with Shirley King’s Hollywood Confidential, directed by Robin Schild. It is a stylized spy spoof, complete with dark glasses and trench coats.   Set to a James Bond soundtrack, Gloria (Gigi Benson), and Duckman (Monty Paulson) enter, guns drawn.  The timing, especially in the opening choreography is spot on. Things get rocky when Duckman, believing he is a superhero out to save the day, reveals his outfit beneath his coat, dons headgear and flippers.  His partner is not amused.

Mysterious Ways , a solo performance, follows.  It was written by George Dykstra, who also plays a bereaved widower who cannot let his wife go.  He celebrates their anniversary the same way every year.  He speaks to her as though she’s in the other room, and goes into long expository remembrances of things past until, tragically, he realizes, again, she’s gone forever.  A phone call from his grown daughter brings him back to reality.  Dykstra gives a well-shaded, deep, but clichéd, insight into this common life passage.

A brief scene change and we are surprised to see a man locked in a bathroom, sitting on a toilet.  He watches through the glass pane and listens to his deluded wife in the next room rehearsing her TV meteorologist audition routine.  This is Martin A. David’s self-directed absurdist comedy, Minerva and Melrose.  Throughout the play,  Minerva (Lauren Arrow),  an adroit malapropist, spouts them constantly (“Pinochle” for “pinnicle”, etc.)  as she ponders her career options, deciding on this one then that, each time believing she will be a instant star.  Melrose , played by Jon Zax, exuding a kindof Harpo Marx vibe, encourages her, but utters snide comic asides as he fiddles with toilet paper.   She has an accident; Melrose unlocks himself from the bathroom, finally freeing himself from his indulgent, demanding wife.  Arrow, a beautiful, big woman who moves with grace, has been seen in several Fringe plays over the years.

Don Samson’s The Game, follows.  Directed by Carol Eggers, it features a young married couple.  Tom, played by Fringe favorite Rick Roitinger, with impeccable timing, and Marion (a believable Emily Soleil) have been invited by friends to join them at a Swingers party.   Tom seems willing to try it, do something different, but Emily hesitates.  They banter, argue, and speculate about it and its eventual outcome.    Emily turns the tables on him which changes Tom’s mind.

How Salt & Pepper Got Put into Shaker is a delightful, costumed, animated bit from playwright Annette Lust’s Pantry Tales series. Directed and choreographed by Pamela Rand the play is an informative piece, narrated by the French Cook (Charles Grant in a perfect French accent).   Originally, salt and pepper were served in small bowls with silver spoons.  But Salt (Terri Barker), in white, and Pepper (Cynthia Sims ), in black, argue and fight about which of them is the most important to enhance foods and please diners, scattering their grains all over the place, making a mess.  This upsets Cook, who decides, in order to avoid this, they must be put into separate shakers.  A nice touch was the court-jester-like jingly hats.

Writer and director, Michael Ferguson’s thoughtful, though didactic at times, Sharp Edges tells the story of a budding relationship between a subdued Melanie (Jennifer Cedar-Kraft ) and an insistent Daniel (David Louis Klein).  Though they seemed to have a lot in common, they’ve parted ways.  When they run into each other during an intermission at a symphony concert, they discuss their differences.   Daniel is honest about his sexual needs and how he sees women, while Melanie, who’s had a troubled life and suffered rape, wants understanding and companionship.

Program One ends with the fast-paced, funny, Sunday Sundays written and skillfully directed by Peter Hsieh, about a group of friends who play croquet together every Sunday.   But, this time, someone forgot to bring the balls.  The piece opens with the four Archie (Jason Hurtado), Nate (Michael Lee Lund), Wade (Everado Leon), and Krista (Elizabeth Curtis), frozen in various croquet playing positions, mallets raised at odd angles.  Angry over the missing balls, they begin to fight, advancing downstage swinging mallets, arguing and blaming, in Shakespearean English.  The scene is rewound, back to frozen statues, starting over.  This happens several times, each time the players advance and speak various dialects: Southern, then hyper-tragic drama.  The funniest were the robot and zombie croquet player zombies.  Excellent choreography.

Some Mime Troupe and Clown Conservatory regulars opened Program Two with the slap-stick, clown piece, Get a Date Show, written by Stacy Lapin & Pamela Rand, with the collaboration of Joan Mankin, and directed by Clown Conservatory founder Paoli Lacy.  Based on popular TV date shows of the ‘70s,- except that this one appears intended for single seniors-  it features an Emcee, Johnny J. Johnson (an acrobatic Ross Travis); contestants, Joan “The Champ” Longjump (Joan Mankin), Gladys Ruffelshire (Pamela Rand); and the lucky date Arthur  (Pickle Family Circus alum Randy Craig).  White-haired Arthur is wheelchair-bound, assisted by his comely attendant, Kay (Tristan Cunningham).  Background music is provided by the Ukulele Musician, Myron Seth Isaacs.  Contestant questions trended towards elder-sex, and contestants judged by physical prowess.  Who won a date with Arthur?  The play was enhanced with a slide show by Rachel Cohen.

Second on the program is On With the Wind in which seniors at a elder facility gather to watch a video of “Gone With the Wind” (the “G” on the cover was missing, hence the reference to “On-“).  It was written and directed by Carol Sheldon, with a lively cast: Loreen (Kathy Holly), Twyla (Roberta Maloy), Lawrence (Michael Collins), Beverly (Donna Andrews); and Floramae (Floralynn Isaacson), dressed as a character in the film.  As they watch, they  talk about the film, its characters, plot, and quote from it; they discuss each others’ outfits, past relationships, embarrassing issues of growing older, and elder sex.  However it never gets maudlin and is quite funny.   Twlya’s droll remarks keeps the repartee from getting smarmy and piteous.

Arrangements  by Clare J. Baker, directed by Gina Pandiani is a comedy about making after-death arrangements.  It takes place in the funeral director Mr. Ashley’s office (reliable Charles Grant).  He can’t decide if his saucy, exotic client,  Reddi Witherspoon, played by  spunky Terri Barker, is flirting with him or what.  She appears to be rolling in dough and wants to be cremated.  There are many allusions to ashes- including  his name- and puns throughout.

One Time at the Zoo, a lively romp, written & directed by William O. Chessman III with choreography by Susan Amacker, is the perfect apré-intermission play.  The Beasleys- Pamela (Susan Amacker), and Gerald ( Michael A. O’Brien),  and daughter Victoria (wonderful 7^th grade actor Melissa Schepers)- visit the zoo.   Victoria teases and taunts the chimp (Ken Sollazzo, thankfully not in a gorilla suit).   Mom and Dad try to give her a lesson in evolution; how close a relation chimps are to humans.  She isn’t listening.  When Dad gets too close to the cage, the chimp goes to work on him and somehow they change places.   Amacker’s choreography works to both Sollazzo’s and O’Brien’s advantage.  To see Dad’s melt-down from a staid, composed man is priceless.

G. Randy Kasten wrote and directed Supplementing, a drama dealing with infidelity.   Husband and wife actors Diane and David Rodrigues play married couple Mindy and Pete.  When Mindy keeps arriving home from work later and later each night, Pete has his suspicions.  Mindy is concerned with her looks, and aging, afraid she’s losing her attractiveness.  The short play is seen in several separate scenes.  In each, the actors wear different clothes to depict the passage of time.  And Pete is always on the couch drinking.   It is difficult to portray a drunk. Even tippler Richard Burton said he had to get sober before he could play one.  In the final scene, Pete delivers a believable drunken monologue to himself in the mirror.

Shaw, written and directed by Ollie Mae Trost Welch, has Shaw (Kevin Copps as G.B Shaw) walking haltingly with a cane, talking to himself about  God.  This is a well-known Shavian trope.  Shaw was an admitted and proud atheist.  However, after his death at 93, people specfulated about what he would say if he met God, and plays have been written about it.  In this one,  Shaw and God (played by Jerrund Bojeste) debate His existence and, where, exactly is Shaw now? Heaven?  Hell? Purgatory? Shaw asks God to prove his existence by making him (Shaw), the age he felt happiest.  It’s difficult for anyone to emulate G.B. Shaw, but Copps pulls it off, even with a slight Irish accent.  How does one play God? He could be anything, or anyone, even a she.  With his matter-of-fact delivery, Bojeste in his pony-tail, beard, embroidered vest, slacks, and loafers?  Sure he could be God.  Why not?

This thought-provoking play is followed by the hilarious mystery farce, The Trouble at Table 23, written by Charley Lerrigo and directed by Amy Crumpacker.   Bill (Manik Bahl) wants milk for his coffee.  He’s staying in a hotel, visits the dining room and asks the receptionist, known only as “Actor” played dead-pan by Jean Davis, who gives him trouble, but no milk; then a waitress, again played by Actor, this time in an ill-fitting wig, also gives him a hard time, but no milk.  She disappears.  A body turns up.   It’s discovered he’s a thief (John Ferreira).  Then, of course, a trench-coated detective, again played by Actor, who pins the murder on Bill.  Man!  All the dude wanted was milk for his coffee!  The audience laughed throughout at the absurdity of it all.  Poor Bill.

She Has a Plan, by George Freek, directed by Jim Colgan, ends Program Two.  A married couple played by Ayelette Robinson as Martina Hoople, and George Doerr as Henry Hoople, visit a marriage counselor, Ms. Pennyworth (Cynthia Sims).   Martina wants Henry, who really appears to be a weak, ineffectual man- much credit to Doerr’s acting- to be more manly, stand up for himself, and not be such a wimp.   Marina and Pennyworth have devised a plan, unknown to Henry, which involves Bert, Martina’s big, beefy ex-,  perfectly rendered by Simon Patton.

Visit www.Fringofmarin for directions and information.

 

 

 

IN DEFENSE OF BIRQAS

By Lynn Ruth Miller

A woman’s face is her work of fiction.

Oscar Wilde

I have reached the age when looking in the mirror has become a nightmare.  Either I see my mother or a woman who looks ready for a plot.  If the night before has been particularly grueling, I don’t see much at all.

 

I find that it takes a lot of work these days to get my face ready for public viewing.  I am not talking about going to a formal dance or meeting a dignitary.  I am saying that before I dare leave the house, I have a time consuming, discouraging and ego damaging routine I must follow before I dare greet the outside world.

 

As soon as I wake up, I drink 12 ounces of warm water to hydrate my skin.  I use a special facial sponge to wipe the sleep from my eyes and remove the rivulets of sand that have lodged in the wrinkles on my face and dripped down the folds of my neck.

 

I haul out a magnifying mirror and work on the white heads, uneven bumps and enlarged pores that spring up as if by magic during the night. Then I address the lush new growth of hair in my lip, my chin and hanging from my nostrils.

 

I apply a light moisturizing lotion to try to plump up the sagging pouches around my eyes and under my chin.  I pat the skin dry and hope those gaping pores close.

 

They don’t.

 

I apply a mild sun screen to the entire region of flesh above my collar bone.  It is impossible to separate my jawbone from my clavicle.  They have coagulated into a soft mass of unidentifiable epidermis. I have not seen my neck in fifteen years.   I slather on moisturizer and hope it sinks into all the right places.

 

It doesn’t.

 

My skin has developed so many colors that I cannot decide if it is a plaid or a print. Both peaches and cream are but a memory.  I apply a foundation that is the color of what it once was when it glowed with the blush of youth.  This was so many years ago that I am not sure I have chosen the right shade.  The one I am using is a tad darker than bleached cotton but not so dark that I look like an immigrant.

 

It is now time to do my eyes.  The first challenge is locating them.  They are wedged between the folds of my eyelids and the puffed gray pillows around what is left of my eyelashes.  I rub a bit of oil on the lids and then a tad of eye shadow to match my outfit.    I need to be careful because if I am wearing a vivid combination of color, my eyes will look like Bozo’s.

 

I am now ready for THE BIG CHALLENGE.  I must use a pencil and draw a line right above my eye lashes and directly under my eye.  This can take anywhere from twenty minutes to several hours depending on how many times I jam the pencil into my cornea or dislodge my contact lens.

 

Each morning my cheeks sag a few inches closer to my collar bone. I need to redefine them with rouge.  The trick is to add just enough tint so I don’t look dead.

 

I look in the mirror to see if there has been any improvement.

 

There hasn’t.

 

I so envy the women of the Middle East.  They wake, drape themselves in a burqa and go out on the town.  Oh, I know they are subservient and need to shut up and take it.  But the truth is that with a face like mine, no one is going to want to give it to me anyway unless I cover it up.  There is a huge advantage to draping yourself in a filmy bit of fabric and leaving your appearance to the imagination.  I could probably pass for a real looker unless it’s a windy day.

While you’re saving your face;

You’re losing your ass.

Lyndon Johnson

FOODIES! THE MUSICAL

By Morris Bobrow

Starring David Goodwin, Kim Larsen, Sara Hauter, Deborah Russo

 

Statistics show that of those who contract

The habit of eating, very few survive. 

George Bernard Shaw

 

Everybody does it….we all look forward to breakfast lunch and dinner….and unless we are anorexic, we indulge in all three, every day.  But in the Bay Area, eating and the food experience have been elevated to a pretentious and elaborate ritual. Morris Bobrow pokes fun at it all in this new, delightful and all too real spoof about what advertising, heath addicts and the medical community have managed to do to our eating habits. 

 

The show opens with a full cast presentation “I Like to Eat” (and who doesn’t?) and works its way through pompous waiters, falling in love with the food truck guy and trying to keep it kosher.  Who cannot see themselves and blush when the cast is so excited about a new place to eat that they simply cannot choose. “OMG” they sing, and that is exactly what we say when we find a new and different restaurant. 

 

We all have been put off by the pompous waiter who not only gives you dining suggestions but tells you his life story.  We have been smothered in the friendly restaurant atmosphere where you meet everyone involved in creating your meal.  Who can forget Deborah Russo ‘s brilliant smile when she announces, ”I’m your dishwasher!”?  It is almost too real to be funny.   

 

The hour is filled with many memorable moments, but unforgettable is the song, “Taking the Waters” that discusses the different types of water we drink these days in the same lingo that wine connoisseurs evaluate wine (and that in itself is about as affected as you can get.)  Gone the days when you could walk up to a counter and ask for a cup of coffee.  Now you have so many choices and so many decisions, it is almost easier to forget the whole thing and buy a tea bag. 

 

All the habits we have adopted, the hang ups that guide us, the foolishness in the name of health we read about and hear about every day are lampooned in this tuneful, energetic, beautifully paced little musical.  We smile; we tap our feet; and we love every minute of this performance because each person in the audience has experienced the frustration of worrying about what the food we are eating ate, and the humiliation of cooking a wonderful meal that no one likes.  It has happened to all of us, but in FOODIES: THE MUSICAL, we don’t throw pots and pans at one another, we laugh.

 

Don’t miss this opportunity for a  unique, laugh-filled hour filled with unforgettable tunes by the very talented Morris Bobrow, composer of “Shopping! The  Musical!” And “Party of 2-The Mating Musical.”  The cast work together as a team and yet each one shines in his own way. The music is hummable and never detracts from the movement on stage.  The show is as marvelous to watch as it is to hear.  It doesn’t get much better than that.     

 

Where: The Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter (at Powell), 433-3040
When: Preview performances Sept. 28-29, Oct. 5; show runs Fridays and Saturdays from Oct. 6-Nov. 17
Cost: $30 for previews; $34 general (purchase via Brown Paper Tickets)

 

To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art.
François de La Rochefoucauld

BLOODY BLOODY ANDREW JACKSON

 

Reviewed by Jeffrey R Smith of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle

 

The all new San Francisco Playhouse, at 450 Post, is presently performing BLOODY BLOODY ANDREW JACKSON by Alex Timbers and Michael Friedman.

 

Victims of their own success, creative genii Bill English and Susi Damilano were crowded out of their former digs at the Jean Shelton complex; now they seat audiences commensurate with the qualitative edge they enjoy within the San Francisco environs; it is worth noting that their bar has quintupled in length.

 

Their current performance piece is a unique hybrid of that occupies the very intersection of rock musical, dark comedy, docudrama and political satire.

 

But don’t be fooled; the music and the comedy are a set up; a conspiracy to lure the audience into a place of vulnerability, susceptibility and receptivity to dark historical truths of American Expansion.

 

The aegis of our American exceptionalism is temporarily lowered and we are led to see ourselves in the boarder, grittier, historical context.

 

As the title suggests, Andrew Jackson was bloody; his carnage was equal parts vengeance, political ambition, military stratagem, hatred and racism.

 

Jackson cleared six states of all pockets of resistance to unbridled American expansion; without Congressional approval he eradicated the Spanish and British influence in the American Southeast.

 

His imperialistic successes inspired America’s patriotic myth of “manifest destiny;” a myth that was brought to completion by the whole sale annexations of James Polk.

 

Jackson eliminated his enemies both in the territories and Washington D.C. and like most unchallenged rulers he stepped on to that slippery slope of sic semper tyrannis.

 

His excesses lead to the infamous Trail of Tears; a forced march impossible to morally differentiate from the Bataan Death March which was of equal scale.

 

Ashkon Davaran is the star and focus of this show; he commands the stage with high energy, bravado and mesmerizing charisma as he portrays a rustic, accidental leader’s accent to the White House.

 

The music is reminiscent of Green Day, specifically AMERICAN IDIOT, only better under the capable Musical Direction of Jonathon Fadner.

 

Wait until you see the cello player’s finale: simply amazing.

 

A set design, by Award Winning Set Designer—indeed architect—Nina Ball, presages the future of the orphaned pioneer lad in Tennessee.

 

Angel Burgess is absolutely stunning as she plays Jackson’s wife Rachel: a woman with a heart too big and too filled with longing, loneliness and sorrow not to break.

 

Director Jon Tracy has bundled a compelling script, a talented cast and rocking musical score to create what is easily the best happening in San Francisco.

 

It is over-the-top and should not be missed.

 

For tickets call 415-677-9591 or surf on over to sfplayhouse.org.

 

Hurry, your historical perspective might never be the same.

 

 

San Jose Rep presents….

FREUD’S LAST SESSION

By Mark St. Germain

Directed by Stephen Wrentmore

Starring Ben Evett & J. Michael Flynn

To be an atheist requires an indefinitely greater measure of faith

Than to receive all the great truths which atheism would deny.

Joseph Addison

This play is an imaginary glimpse into the minds of two great thinkers, C. S. Lewis and Dr. Sigmund Freud in a conversation the day before England enters World War II and two weeks before Freud, dying of oral cancer ends his own life.  The two men discuss love, sex and the existence of God and debate the value and impact of all three on the human condition.

 

Kent Dorsey’s magnificent set recreates Freud’s study and sets the mood for the 90 minute discussion between the two men.  Director Stephen Wrentmore manages to keep the play moving by making use of the entire stage.  The characters move from the tea table, to the couch to the radio to listen to the news proclaiming the imminence of war.  Somehow, the combination of excellent direction and superb acting keeps the dialogue from descending into a tiresome recitation of two men’s conflicting philosophies.

 

C. S. Lewis ((Ben Evett) has recently embraced religion and Freud (J. Michael Flynn) says, “I want to learn why a man of your intellect would abandon truth and embrace a lie.”  The remaining 90 minutes is spent hearing the reason Lewis knows that God exists and Freud is equally sure religion is a myth.

 

Freud points out that the very existence of Hitler proves that there is no supreme being watching over us and Lewis disagrees.  “Hitler’s actions reinforce the opposite,” he says. “We have to accept that there is a moral law.” And he goes on to say, “The wish that God doesn’t exist can be stronger than the wish that God does.

 

Freud counters with “Theologians hide behind their ignorance;” and as the discussion continues he says, “I always find what people don’t tell me is less important than what they do.”    Lewis sees that Freud is dying and he says, “How can a man of your intelligence think the end is the end?   When you are faced with death, then what?”

 

Indeed, through the endless back and forth discussion whether God exists or if He is a product of our imagination, the arguments presented were the same l ones religious leaders and atheist have been tossing back and forth every since religion began.  It was Michael Bakunin who said, “All religions, with their gods, their demi-gods, and their prophets, their messiahs and their saints, were created by the prejudiced fancy of men who had not attained the full development and full possession of their faculties.”

 

In contrast Calvin Coolidge said, “It is hard to see how a great man can be an atheist. Without the sustaining influence of faith in a divine power we could have little faith in ourselves. We need to feel that behind us is intelligence and love.”

 

The debate we heard on the San José Repertory’s stage was the one that has been going on for centuries.  There were no shocking revelations, no new lights cast on the eternal conflict between religion and its opponents.  The play is saved by the virtuosity of the actors moving across an amazing set that recreates the time the play is taking place and the pace of the production.  You won’t hear anything new in this play, nor will the ideas presented convince you that your own belief is invalid.  I doubt that either argument presented in the script will be innovative or strong enough to convert a believer and convince one who does not.  The virtue of this production is in the acting and direction and for that alone it is well worth the price of admission.

 

 

 

FREUD’S LAST SESSION continues through  November 4, 2012

San Jose Repertory theatre

101 Paseo de San Antonio

San Jose

Tickets $29-$74 408 367 7255 or www. Sjrep.com

           

WHAT WILL THE TOOTH FAIRY DO?

Lynn Ruth Miller

 

Most people can’t even think what to hope for

 When they throw a penny in a fountain.
Barbara Kingsolver

There is talk on this side of the pond, of getting rid of money. “Today, only 7% of all transactions in the United States are done with cash, and most of those transactions involve very small amounts of money.“ says the internet blog, The Economic Collapse. “Our financial system is dramatically changing, and cash is rapidly becoming a thing of the past.”

 

These days, it costs more than it’s worth to manufacture the cash we stuff into our wallets and bulging coin purses. In America, it costs 11.18 cents to mint a 5 cent piece and a penny costs 2.41 cents.  It isn’t much better in Britain.  Although the Royal Mint will not reveal how much it costs to mint 1p, rumor has it that the cost from manufacture to distribution is approximately £3.

 

That doesn’t make sense.

 

Besides the cost to make them, there is the threat to our health and well being.  Coins and bills land in thousands of pockets, are touched by millions of hands and no one ever cleans them up.  The bills are tattered and full of germs; the coins are not only cumbersome but they create embarrassing bulges that aren’t what you think they are.

 

When coins were first invented, everyone thought it was the greatest idea since the fig leaf.  Coins didn’t rot or die on you.  Their value didn’t deteriorate with time.  You could stick them in the bank and they would be there for years and still have value. You used them to reward children and toss in fountains.  You stuck them under pillows when children lost their baby teeth and you put them in your shoe for good luck.

 

What will happen to the Piggy Bank when pennies are no more? When I was a child, this was the time of year when I began stuffing pennies in the little ceramic pig I got for Christmas last year so I could buy my Mama a present for Christmas this year.  Every day, I would put in a penny I had earned for helping her bring in the groceries or drying the dishes (now you know how old I am) and by December first, my little pig was bulging with the hard earned cash I had fed him. I would go to the jewelry store, hand the clerk my piggy bank and say, “What can I buy my mother with this?”  She and I would smash the bank and pile the pennies into columns of ten and then tabulate the results.  One year, I was able to buy my mother a silver candle snuffer and another time, I bought her a lapel pin with a little blue stone in the middle…all with the money I earned doing chores.

 

Children these days would either have to type in a code on their cell phones or swipe a credit card to pay for that special something they want to buy for their parents.  It just couldn’t give them the same sense of accomplishment.  Every penny I gave that saleslady had a story behind it. All a credit card has is an APR.

Say good-by to wallets when cash is no more.  You can keep all your credit information on your cell phone or slip your credit card in your pocket.   Profiles will be slimmer and, because seeing the cash, made you realize how much you were actually spending, expenditures will go up.  But who cares?  It’s all just numbers and as every politician knows you can make numbers say anything you want.

 

The good news is if you keep your pennies stashed away in a bureau drawer, they will become valuable relics from another time, like vinyl records and rotary dial phones.   Your heirs can sell your stash for at least 500% of their face value.  That should pay for your casket!

When I was young I thought that money

Was the most important thing in life;

Now that I am old, I know that it is.
Oscar Wilde

 

Lohengrin
SF Opera Performance, October 20, 2012

The concept of love put forward in Lohengrin is that of a fragile flower very dependent upon maintaining illusions. Love is equivalent to blind Faith in goodness and constancy that must be absolute and unquestioning. But the underlying anxieties of this kind of naive faith ultimately undermine it and do it in. Lohengrin echoes Christianity in its demand for simple faith and the basic concept of a man is sent from God to rescue a damsel in distress, accused of a terrible crime. He saves her, not through self sacrifice, as in the Christian model, but through militaristic combat — a Wagnerian variant on the Christian theme. Superior prowess on the battlefield saves the girl from her enemies and wins her love. The woman’s love is the hero’s reward for her rescue from desperation. But there is one condition. The woman cannot ask her rescuer who he is or where he comes from. She has to take him completely on faith and let his actions of rescue and his superior strength in battle be the sole foundation of her devotion and love. If she is to question him and demand to know more of who he is, then he will be forced to leave her and renounce her. It is love founded on the most narrow, simplistic grounds and maintained with a gun pointed at the woman’s head, so to speak. Love can only be maintained with the woman in a desperate position of neediness with the man serving as the heroic figure of strength who magnanimously saves her from perpetual impending catastrophe. Love as worship of the conquering hero. While a woman may feel grateful to be delivered from impending doom — at least for a time — she will soon feel the extreme vulnerability of this position of helpless dependence, as the opera demonstrates. She will question her own worthiness of the man’s continuing love, she will want to broaden the base of the relationship and feel more appealing to the man beyond mere helplessness and need. She will feel the fragility of the connection to him. She feels vulnerable to his tiring of her and moving on. She seeks to strengthen her position through a greater understanding of the man, who he is, and what his own needs and vulnerabilities are. The message of Lohengrin is that this is a destructive tendency, that love can only be this primitive, blind devotion stemming from a condition of imminent undoing. Love between a man and a woman essentially depends on a woman being in a perpetual state of crisis. But on the other hand, if the woman gets to know who the man is and where he comes from, then she will realize that he is not the invulnerable hero, not the idealized figure of goodness and strength that he presented himself to be, and thus her love and devotion will be annuled. The man’s insecurity and feelings of unworthiness are activated upon a deeper probing of his true self. It is a very pessimistic outlook on relations between the sexes. Love can only be born and continue within these very narrow confines of faith sustained through willful ignorance, and that fragile foundation gives rise to the anxieties and demands that sabotage and destroy it. It is an outlook on life that is essentially dark and tragic — and a little silly too.
A few quibbles with the San Francisco Opera’s performance.
This production of the opera is set in a modern context in modern costumes, although Wagner’s original conceptualization set it in 10th century Saxony. On the cover of the program is a photograph by Erich Lessing of the destruction of the Stalin monument in Budapest, Hungary, during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. The idea according to Director Daniel Slater is that a contemporary setting would make it “more exciting and relevant for the audience.” Well, most Americans living today can probably relate to the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 about as well as they can relate to 10th century Saxony. Many of us would be surprised to discover that there was a revolution in Hungary in 1956. And where is Hungary, by the way?
There are some militaristic and nationalistic elements in the opera that resonated well with the National Socialists, but you have to keep in mind that Germany did not even exist as a unified nation at the time this opera was composed. Invasion from the East was a long standing European fear that would be readily grasped by any European audience. The fact that this was a pressing matter in the 10th century would not be peculiar to that time or have any compelling significance as a factor in setting the opera in that time and place. I think Wagner’s purpose in setting the opera long in the past, aside from these nationalistic overtones, was to give the opera a context where the kind of romantic idealizations in the personal sphere that the opera treats would have traction for the viewer free from the distractions of a contemporary political and social context. Moving it forward in time and bringing up contemporary political issues in my view disrupts the essential focus of this opera on the nature of human relationships. True, the opera takes place under the threat of impending war. But this was a condition of European life as far back as one cares to look. So in that sense it did not matter when the opera was set, this background factor of imminent war was going to remain a constant in whatever time period it occurred. Wagner set it long in the past precisely to expunge the contingencies of the immediate contemporary circumstances. Bringing the opera forward and setting it in our own time defeats that artistic purpose and makes the whole thing sort of confusing.
Director Slater sees Lohengrin as a problematic character who renounces his godlike status in order to experience human love with Elsa. This is based on musings external to the opera itself. Within the opera there is nothing problematic about Lohengrin. He was sent on a mission by the Grail. He fulfilled the mission, he accepted Elsa as his prize, he accepted the leadership position as a warrior, he laid out his conditions, and he stuck to them steadfastly and departed without any apparent signs of misgiving. Slater says he is seeking redemption through Elsa’s love and is willing to sacrifice his immortality to achieve it. There is nothing in the opera to substantiate this view. Within the opera, Lohengrin is a knight in shining armor coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress and then to lead an army into battle. Slater puts him instead in a leather trench coat, which tends to deemphasize his heroic qualities. But counterculture figures don’t usually lead armies. I’m not sure that it works. Lohengrin is not Hamlet.
Generally the staging is rather static and unimaginative. At times it gets dull because there is not enough activity in the staging or aesthetic interest in the lighting to sustain one’s attention. The lighting in the first act is bright and harsh. The early part of the second act feels a little cramped against the front edge of the stage. In the original conception the swan was supposed to pull a boat down the river bearing Lohengrin. Slater gives that up and opts for much less impressive imagery of a static pair of wings from which Lohengrin emerges. At the end the long lost Gottfried reappears as a small boy from the transformed swan. But it doesn’t make sense that Gottfried should reappear as a small boy. He disappeared years ago as a child. His sister Elsa has grown into a mature woman. He should be contemporary with Elsa. Furthermore, he is supposed to arrive ready to lead an army into battle, to step into the role being abdicated by Lohengrin, but he can barely lift a sword. What is Slater seeking by casting Gottfried as an 8 year old boy? Some sort of cutesy sentimentality? A child’s appearance at the end of this dark, gloomy opera trying to wave a sword is a rather ridiculous juxtaposition if you ask me, and I take it to indicate that he completely misunderstands what the opera is all about. This is not a child’s opera at all and introducing a child as a final punctuation mark on this tragedy is a colossal malapropism.
What works in this opera is the music. If it wasn’t for the music, it probably wouldn’t even be staged. The orchestra, the singers, the chorus, did a superb job and made it a musical success, even if it left much to be desired as a dramatic production. Wagner’s great creativity and strength was as a composer of music more than as a dramatist or as a prophet. It is clearly evident in this dark opera and in its problematic staging in this San Francisco Opera production.