Celebrating the Miracle of Life Onscreen: Final Draft

What has happened to the good old romantic comedy? Isn’t it all supposed to be about fate and searching for love with a comical twist? Instead, over the past decade or so, humor in films has acquired a different flavor. What was funny in movies such as Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You is now seen as trivial and stupid. Comedies today have begun to stray from these simple themes, delving into more controversial topics, like pregnancy.

There have been a few recent movies that portray teen pregnancy, addressing an important subject that has remained un-talked about in the past. And it is certainly a brave attempt to drag such a taboo topic out into the open and onto the big screen. Thirty years ago, being a single mother-to-be would have been shameful and hidden at all costs. It is great to see that society has moved on and become open-minded enough to allow pregnancy to sneak its way into Hollywood.

However, while films such as Juno and Saved succeed in bringing necessary attention to a serious and present concern in today’s society, it seems that the issue of pregnancy is treated in an inappropriately lighthearted manner. Perhaps it’s not the best message to be sending to today’s youth that getting pregnant is OK because it happens all the time, and it’s funny! These films fail to exhibit the real, accurate consequences of young motherhood, instead portraying it as an accepted part of life with great comedic potential.

Juno tells the story of a smart-aleck 16-year-old who indulges in sex for the first time just for fun. The film’s protagonist, Juno (played by Ellen Page), coincidentally just “forgets” a condom, thus resulting in a very unwanted pregnancy. Juno is portrayed as a very smart, albeit sarcastic, young woman; she is not the kind of girl who would be irresponsible enough to totally disregard the use of protection. While this negligence might not seem to fit her character, it certainly is convenient in getting her pregnant. And the journey of her pregnancy is comical and treated with witty indifference. The emotional effects of unwelcome motherhood are completely overlooked. Juno practically gives her baby over to a rich, single mother without any qualms. And after this anything but trying experience, everything returns to normal. Juno falls in love, and everyone is happy. She no longer has to worry about a baby interrupting her future because she can go on with her life, as if her pregnancy never even happened. Indeed, her life is the better for it.

While Juno’s denial and seeming carelessness appears funny onscreen, this is not the common reality of teen pregnancy. It seems that the filmmakers want today’s youth to think that the consequences of having a baby don’t really matter, because it always works out in the end. This message is completely ridiculous. Pregnancy and motherhood aren’t all fun and games. And most pregnant teens are not pretty, upper middle class starlets with the love and support of their families. Instead, according to the Guttmacher Institute, unexpected pregnancy is much more common among low-income, unmarried, and minority women. Over past years, rates of unintended pregnancies have declined 20% among college graduates and wealthier women, while increasing 29% among poorer and less educated women. Without the option of abortion, having a baby only lessens these women’s ability to find work and provide for themselves.

Saved strikes a slightly different note, centering around the pregnancy of Christ enthusiast Mary, who might not have had the advantage of a sex ed. class at her Christian school. She gives up her virginity, at Jesus’ bidding, in order to save her boyfriend from the grips of gayness. In return for what she thinks is a virtuous act, she gets pregnant. This crippling burden leads Mary to call her faith into question, spurring her quick descent into sin. While the film pokes fun at Christian fundamentalists’ hypocrisy and closed-mindedness, viewers are left wondering: what about Mary? Because of her religious ties, abortion is completely out of the question; she must go through with it. But she somehow manages to almost completely hide her pregnancy from her mother, who excuses her weight gain, claiming, “I didn’t want her to develop a complex!” And after giving birth, she realizes that having a baby is no burden at all; it is a blessing, as if the spiritual bonds of motherhood overcome all.

Saved raises a good point about abortion. Antiabortion sentiment in the Christian community greatly determines Mary’s choice to keep her baby, and it similarly effects the decisions of young women throughout the U.S. Compared to teens in other countries, young women in the U.S. are much less likely to use protection or opt to have an abortion. Perhaps it is because of religious sentiment, unavailability, or most likely a greater acceptance of young motherhood in today’s society that the abortion rate is the lowest it has been since 1974. While the teen pregnancy rate has also decreased over the past decade, this drastic decline in abortions still means that more young women are choosing to keep their babies and make a lifelong commitment to motherhood.

These films also portray situations in which the mother is the sole decider in her pregnancy. The guilty impregnators are left off-the-hook, perhaps pushed aside for the sake of plot. This depiction is letting guys know that knocking a girl up is no big deal, because ultimately it’s not their responsibility. And this seems to be becoming a more common mindset in today’s youth. While the overall teen pregnancy rate has been steadily declining since 2000, the proportion of unmarried teen mothers has increased dramatically. Young fathers, both in these films and in reality, seem to play too small a role in the future of the very fruit of their loins. Instead, according to the Guttmacher Institute, “teenage women are more than twice as likely as teenage men to be involved in a pregnancy, and nearly three times as likely to become parents.” Instead of treating the father as a dispensable, unneeded part of teen pregnancy, these films need to show guys that they play a significant role and need to take responsibility for their contributions.

Glamorizing teen pregnancy onscreen is certainly not the best way to expose its actual consequences. A realistic portrayal of the more accurate and common socioeconomic and emotional circumstances of unplanned pregnancy would have a much greater effect on how young motherhood is viewed in society. When faced with the cold, hard truth of the issue, instead of the humorous, whimsical idealizations offered by Juno and Saved, perhaps teens will not feel as inclined to go out and do it without protection. While the aims of these films are admirable, their means are not. Using the silver screen to convey messages to the audience can be smart, but not when the viewers are impressionable teens who will eat up anything they see as reality. Leave the lighthearted, unrealistic stuff to the romantic comedies; pregnancy is a big, not-very-funny-after-all deal, which needs to be treated with stifling realism.

For my response this week, I looked at A. O. Scott’s review of Juno from December and how it relates to my final project:

In his review of Juno, A. O. Scott seems to respect the humor that is directed toward the main character’s pregnancy. He writes, “It’s not that Juno treats her pregnancy as a joke, but rather that… she can’t help finding humor in it.” However, Scott fails to recognize what effect this might have on the audience. Are all viewers going to be observant enough to pick up on the irony of Juno’s situation and how her humor reflects on the emotional implications of her pregnancy? Scott describes the film’s writing as having “surprising delicacy and emotional depth.” But while the screenplay may be clever, is it really sending the right message about pregnancy to its audience? Most people may not exactly see Juno’s frank indifference as delicate. Instead, on the surface, she appears completely emotionless, as if having a baby is no big deal. Scott defends Juno’s “jarring” sarcasm, writing that the film evolves “from a coy, knowing farce into a heartfelt, serious comedy.” However, this depth could be possibly lost on most audiences, and portraying, on the surface, a rather apathetic perspective toward teen pregnancy is perhaps not the wisest risk to take.

Seeking Mr. and Mrs. Right for a Baby on the Way

Celebrating the Miracle of Life Onscreen

What has happened to the good old romantic comedy? Isn’t it all supposed to be about fate and searching for love with a comical twist? Instead, over the past decade or so, humor in films has acquired a different flavor. What was funny in movies such as Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You is now seen as trivial and stupid. Comedies today have begun to stray from these simple themes, delving into more controversial topics, like pregnancy.

There have been several recent movies that portray teen pregnancy, addressing an important subject that has remained un-talked about in the past. And it is certainly a brave attempt to drag such a taboo topic out into the open and onto the big screen. Thirty years ago, being a single mother-to-be would have been shameful and hidden at all costs. It is great to see that society has moved on and become open-minded enough to allow pregnancy to sneak its way into Hollywood.

However, while films such as Juno and Saved succeed in bringing necessary attention to what is becoming a common occurrence in today’s society, it seems that the issue of pregnancy is treated in an inappropriately lighthearted manner. Perhaps it’s not the best message to be sending to today’s youth that getting pregnant is OK because it happens all the time, and it’s funny! These films fail to exhibit the real, accurate consequences of young motherhood, instead portraying it as an accepted part of life with great comedic potential.

Juno tells the story of a smart-aleck 16-year-old who indulges in sex for the first time just for fun. The film’s protagonist, Juno (played by Ellen Page), coincidentally just “forgets” a condom, thus resulting in a very unwanted pregnancy. But can the consequences be completely unexpected? Juno is portrayed as a very smart, albeit sarcastic, young woman; she is not the kind of girl who would be irresponsible enough to totally disregard the use of protection. While this negligence might not seem to fit her character, it certainly is convenient in getting her pregnant. And the journey of her pregnancy is comical and treated with witty indifference. The emotional effects of unwelcome motherhood are completely overlooked. Juno practically gives her baby over to a rich, single mother without any qualms. And after this very trying experience, everything returns to normal. Juno falls in love, and everyone is happy. Indeed, her life is the better for it.

Saved strikes a slightly different note, centering around the pregnancy of Christ enthusiast Mary, who might not have had the advantage of a sex ed. class at her Christian school. She gives up her virginity, at Jesus’ bidding, in order to save her boyfriend from the grips of gayness. In return for what she thinks is a virtuous act, she gets pregnant. This crippling burden leads Mary to call her faith into question, spurring her quick descent into sin. While the film pokes fun at Christian fundamentalists’ hypocrisy and close-mindedness, viewers are left wondering: what about Mary? Because of her religious ties, abortion is completely out of the question; she must go through with it. But she somehow manages to almost completely hide her pregnancy from her mother, who excuses her weight gain, claiming, “I didn’t want her to develop a complex!” And after giving birth, she realizes that having a baby is no burden at all; it is a blessing, as if the spiritual bonds of motherhood overcome all.

What are these films really trying to say about teen pregnancy? Do the filmmakers want today’s youth to think that the consequences of having a baby don’t really matter, because it always works out in the end? This message is completely ridiculous. Pregnancy and motherhood aren’t all fun and games. And most pregnant teens are not pretty, upper middle class starlets with the love and support of their families. Instead, the majority of young mothers are uneducated and poor, and having a baby lessens their ability to find work and provide for themselves. The U.S. has one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in the world. In fact, according to the University of New Mexico School of Medicine, 40 percent of women in the U.S. get pregnant before they turn 20 years old. Over half of these women who keep their babies end up on welfare. Unplanned pregnancy is a problem, not a blessing, and it should be treated as such.

Glamorizing teen pregnancy onscreen is certainly not the best way to expose its actual consequences. A realistic portrayal of the more accurate and common socioeconomic and emotional circumstances of unplanned pregnancy would have a much greater effect on how young motherhood is viewed in society. When faced with the cold, hard truth of the issue, instead of the humorous, whimsical idealizations offered by Juno and Saved, perhaps teens will not feel as inclined to go out and do it without protection. While the aims of these films are admirable, their means are not. Using the silver screen to convey messages to the audience can be smart, but not when the viewers are impressionable teens who will eat up anything they see as reality. Leave the lighthearted, unrealistic stuff to the romantic comedies; pregnancy is a big, not-very-funny-after-all deal, which needs to be treated with stifling realism.

Final Project Proposal

Over the past five or so years, there have been several popular movies that portray teen pregnancy. Films such as Saved, Knocked Up, and Juno bring pregnancy out into the open, addressing a subject that has remained un-talked about in the past. However, while these films succeed in bringing necessary attention to a common occurrence in today’s society, it seems that the issue of unexpected pregnancy is treated in an inappropriately light-hearted matter. These films often depict upper middle class heroines, all of whom have the support of their family and friends throughout their pregnancy. Little attention is paid to how having a baby might affect the future lives of real women. While it is a positive and worthy aim to attempt to exhibit a previously taboo topic onscreen, these films fail to accurately portray the more real and accurate aspects of teen pregnancy. With the movie industry’s false characterization of pregnancy, today’s young women may start to see teen pregnancy as an accepted part of life with great comedic potential, instead of a serious cultural issue.

Canadian Clowns Exhibit Masterful Flair

From the virtuoso playing of traditional baroque to the jazzier, modern sounds of the past fifty years, the brass quintet is never without a varied repertoire of musical styles to choose from. And it seems the always inventive Canadian Brass does its best to test all the limits of its ensemble. Their concert last Saturday at the Miller Auditorium was a showcase of musical expertise and enjoyment, featuring the talents of trumpeter and former Kalamazooer Brandon Ridenour. Everything about their humorous, crowd-pleasing performance screamed creativity, both in their musical artistry and their unique styles and arrangements.

Hailing from Toronto, Ontario, original founders trombonist Eugene Watts and tuba player Charles Daellenbach provide a historical backbone for the group. They have been with the quintet for over 35 years. The ensemble’s emergence in 1970 was a challenge, as the idea of a five-person ensemble of entirely brass was not yet a widespread, popularized musical assortment. However, through their perseverance and genuine love of the art, Canadian Brass has gained worldwide recognition for their pioneer style and character.

More recent members Jeff Nelsen (horn), Joe Burgstaller (trumpet), and Ridenour add their own youthful energy and pop to the more experienced sounds of Watts and Daellenbach. While each member of the group has evident skill, the most striking talent onstage was found in the impeccable, though sometimes strident playing of trumpeter Burgstaller. His sound had depth and presence, making even the most complicated passages seems easy, both in his technique and calm stage demeanor. His confidence and grandiose playing easily stole the show, though the spotlight stayed stuck on the young Ridenour.

Adding to the great talent of the group’s players, the show exhibited a quirky comedic aspect. Entering the stage in black suits and white Adidas tennis shoes, there was an immediate sense of playfulness to the performance. Daellenbach’s jokes kept the audience entertained throughout the show. He even succeeded in bringing what humor he could to Bach’s adaptation of a Vivaldi piece, mentioning smartly “[Bach] was so taken with it, he took it.” His improvised sarcasm was the maple syrup on the musical performance pancake.

However, as the show went on, it seems that the ensemble was so focused on maintaining the audience’s attention that the performance went from energetic and artful to downright silly. Their closing piece was a western opera, titled Hornsmoke, in which Burgstaller danced across the stage in a bonnet and skirt and Ridenour emerged as a “horn-slinging” villain. While this absurd brass opera certainly kept the crowd laughing, the respect earned in the expert playing of previous pieces plunged significantly.

Despite this exaggerated focus on pleasing the audience, Canadian Brass’ performance was a pleasant surprise. The infusion of the experienced skill of the older members and the youthful energy of the newer musicians made this show both impressive and entertaining. Their one-of-a-kind, innovative style breaks the boundaries of the traditional brass quintet and leaves the audience hungry for more.

An Old Phony: A Look at the Works of Joan Crawford

In his article, “Absolute Artifice from a Star of the Old School,” Dave Kehr reviews and critiques the varied performances of old-time starlet, Joan Crawford, in volume two of Warner Home Video’s “Joan Crawford Collection.” Kehr starts out by describing Crawford’s earlier performances as “almost entirely artificial.” He portrays her as “highly self-conscious,” contending that “she is always trying too hard” in her acting.

Kehr goes on to criticize Crawford’s early works, such as “Sadie McKee” (1934), describing her acting as high-nosed and out-of-place. While she is supposed to be playing the part of a servant being brought into high society, Kehr argues that this transformation is understated and that Crawford instead comes across as a “born aristrocrat.”

While Kehr obviously regards this first movie as a disappointment, he regards Crawford’s later works as more artful. However, he tends to commend the films more for their directors, “whose personal styles trump” Crawford’s performance. Kehr does recognize later on that Crawford’s acting progresses over time. While she maintains the image of “the frightened little girl” hidden behind a “brassy façade,” into the 50’s, according to Kehr, with age, “[she] seemed to become more comfortable in her own skin.” Though she became a more down-to-earth actress over time, Kehr recalls her a “great and terrible star” with an “obsessive drive for perfection.”

Absolute Artifice from a Star of the Old School

Drinking Off Marriage’s Hardships

It is amazing what lies and fabrications one invents when faced with the dire reality of life. The Whole Art’s performance of Edward Albee’s play, "Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" portrays this gap between fact and illusion through the complicated relationship of George and Martha. This topsy-turvy marriage and the complexity of the show’s characters make for an entertaining and thought-provoking production. Despite varying abilities in performance and a simplistic set, this show provides a deeper insight into the destructive reality of love and marriage.

George (played by Richard Philpot) is an aging history professor at a small college owned by his oppressive father-in-law. Though gifted and articulate, George is tortured by his inability to stand up for himself and excel in his position. He is a greatly elaborate character, teetering on the edge of self-ruin. Philpot delivers this deep intelligence with obvious experience and skill. He seems to know just what to do and exactly when to do it when portraying the much afflicted character of George. Philpot is genuine in every aspect of his performance. He appears weary and run-down as he describes his “fall into the vine of service,” and conversely, wildly passionate as he rants, “I’ve been trying for years to clean up the mess I made.”

It may also be the rather poor performances of the other characters that set off Philpot’s expert portrayal of George. Trevor Maher, playing Nick, a new professor at the college, is especially lacking in zeal. Many of his lines seem out of place; they are delivered without enthusiasm and are often inappropriately emphasized. Maher’s movements and speech are stiff and unnatural, exaggerating his T’s and S’s as if warming up to perform an opera. It is not until later in the play, when the characters have consumed a sizable amount of liquor that his performance becomes slightly captivating.

As well as helping the characters to let loose and open up to the audience, the consumption of alcohol plays a prominent role in both the actors’ performances and the plot. The liquor cabinet seems to become the central point in the set and even the entire play. Indeed, as the characters become more and more drunk, the show itself becomes more and more interesting. As the axis of the play, the characters’ drinking comes to determine the pace of the plot. It is easy to say that without this accelerating affect of alcohol, the production would turn into a sober bore.

With this seeming overdependence on alcohol, it becomes more apparent how truly tormented the lives of the show’s characters are. They turn to liquor and even illusion in their attempts to escape from reality. While some of the performances lack effective emotion, the intricate study of relationships in "Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" exposes a profound look at life and the falsehoods that are created in trying to cover up the truth.

“Oroonoko” Misleads: “Star-Corssed Lovers…” Response

In his review of the latest Manhattan play, “Oroonoko,” Charles Isherwood argues that a poignant love story and catchy ascetic appeal do not necessarily guarantee a well-done production. It is apparent in the first sentence of his review that Isherwood is not thrilled about this adaptation of a celebrated novel by Aphra Behn. He claims that the play is a “disappointment” in comparison to the genius and intrigue of the original text. Isherwood supports this claim by going on to praise the author, depicting her as a “fascinating figure” and even comparing her achievements to those of Virginia Woolf. With this initial commendation of Behn’s work, Isherwood makes it clear how difficult it is for an onstage production to match the novel’s pioneer success.

Isherwood continues by commenting on the play’s more external components. He describes the acting as being delivered “with committed earnestness and some humor,” and also depicts the costumes as being “richly colored,” the sets “minimal but effective,” and the lighting “artful.” However, to balance out these compliments, Isherwood adds the more important aspects of the production, such as mood and sophistication, are comparable to “higher-grade children’s theater.” And indeed, his plot summary makes “Oroonoko” sound like a heavy-handed fairy tale.

While he seems to appreciate the outward appearance and writing of the play, Isherwood is yet dissatisfied with this adaptation of the more greatly inventive novel. While his conclusion is short and to-the-point, his depicts his disappointment clearly, stating that “Oroonoko” will either “delight or exasperate, depending on [the viewers’] taste.”

Star-Crossed Lovers Caught in an Unenlightened Era

Therapy’s Theatrical Side Revealed

A close-knit, Italian mobster family, four single fashionista friends living in Manhattan, a dysfunctional, family-owned funeral home: it seems that with each new series, HBO never lacks imaginativeness. And like in previous shows, HBO’s latest original series, “In Treatment” provides a unique, deeper insight into its characters’ psyches and their relationships with others. “In Treatment” showcases the office of therapist Paul Weston (played by Gabriel Byrne) and the often intense encounters he experiences with his patients. The show exhibits originality in both concept and style, exposing a closer look at the complexity of human mentality. However, the ups and downs in emotion are often predictable and lacking in sincerity.

Gabriel Byrne plays the typical therapist perfectly. Always good at seeming mellow and disinterested, he pulls off the objective, unfeeling type with ease. He delivers his lines with dead-on nonchalance. The stereotypical psychiatrist questions, like “And what do you make of this?” or “How does this make you feel?” come off with cool indifference and the intelligent-sounding remnant of an Irish accent. But it is not until Paul Weston seeks out his own therapist, Gina (Dianne West), that Byrne’s performance becomes slightly charged and engaging. Yes, he even gets angry. Despite this subtle change, Byrne’s emotion still feels forced and droll, swinging from frustration to his usual easiness very unnaturally. This strained performance makes Byrne almost uncomfortable to watch, in contrast with the overly dramatic acting of his costars.

Though Byrne’s performance may be lacking in intensity, everything else about “In Treatment” certainly is not. The show’s concept is brimming with creativity and potential. Squeezing plot, characterization, and everything else into a half-hour therapy session is a risky endeavor. And in the end, it makes for heavy, magnified dialogue and very exaggerated circumstances, including one attention-starved woman’s deep-rooted sexual desire for her therapist, as well as the egotistical ranting of a soldier who is seemingly unaffected by the death and destruction he has seen. The plot and performances are overdone and unrealistic. However, this dramatization is needed to counterbalance the monotonous, unchanging backdrop of a therapist’s office. With this less than visually stimulating setting, it is easy to get bored and lose interest in the slower, developing parts of the dialogue.

In concept, “In Treatment” is inventive and original. It is its overdependence on excessively dramatic dialogue and plot that ruins its shots at becoming a prominent HBO series. While displaying a deeper view at the human psyche, the show’s insights are anything but profound. They are, instead, rather predictable. This predictability, along with the drab visual ascetic, deadens interest, leaving viewers to enjoy their own normalcy and wonder how, exactly, this makes them feel.

The Critical Impression: Oscar Wilde’s “The Critic as Artist”

In his famous dialogue “The Critic as Artist,” Oscar Wilde argues for the importance of criticism as an art form. He claims that creativity can only progress through criticism, because it continually “invents fresh forms” (901). It is true that without this critical influence, art would tend to reproduce itself, as there would be no force to deter its repetition.

He also stresses the importance of personality in the critical art form, because it is the critic’s job to interpret the art form he is portraying. According to Wilde, “personality is an absolute essential for any real interpretation” (911).

However, Wilde’s proposal that criticism is the most difficult and most weighty art form is questionable. Though he supports his argument well, writing “it is very much more difficult to talk about a thing than to do it,” he seems to believe that creativity is meaningless without criticism (903). This view is apparent in his description of the Mona Lisa, which “becomes more wonderful… than it really is” through its criticism (906). He argues that the original work of art is simply a “starting point” for something more distinctive. By glorifying criticism, however, Wilde undermines art itself. He seems to forget that without the creative form, criticism would lose its source; beautiful criticism must start with beautiful art.

Critical Defense: “Mehdi and Sarah and Adrien and Manu, Coupling Under a Cloud”

In his review of the film “Witnesses” directed by André Téchiné, Stephen Holden does a good job of contextualizing the film and depicting the director’s style, but gives an excess of plot summary, while providing too little description of the actual film.

Holden’s portrayal of Téchiné’s approach is witty and seems to be well-informed. He uses active imagery and adjectives, describing Téchiné’s films as being “casually sensual” and filled with “fluid sexuality.” According to Holden, the world he creates is “a liberated wonderland with few boundaries.”

Two paragraphs later, Holden begins to actually talk about “Witnesses.” He then spends over half of the review summarizing the plot. Though this less than brief synopsis certainly represents the complexity of the film’s characters, it seems that this lengthy portion might kill the readers’ interest before getting to the actual review.

If his readers manage to get through this tedious summary, Holden also disappoints in his description of the film. The adjectives he uses are bland and lacking in detail. He writes that the film is “beautifully acted” and moves “with the pace of a light romantic comedy,” but then fails to describe how. It isn’t until the last paragraph that his writing becomes passionate and interesting, as he writes, “In its light-handed way, ‘The Witnesses’ is profound.”

Pauline Kael, Alive in her Writing

“Movies are a popular art form, and they can mean a great deal to us at the time” (Davis, 73). The American public relies on films to relay important messages about all aspects of life, and they have the power to make great impressions on their viewers. Who else is more important in relating these on-screen messages to the public than the movie critic? Over the past 50 years, Pauline Kael has served as an example of the witty, relatable criticism that film critics respect and esteem to this day. Through her energetic language and writing style, “lowbrow taste,” and appreciation of pop, it is easy to see why her criticism has come to be so highly regarded.

While some critics like to use pretentious language with long, exaggerated diction, Kael prefers to “write about movies the way that people actually talked about them on leaving the theater,” what she calls “the language of movies” (46). For example, in her review of Top Gun, Kael describes Tom Cruise’s performance, writing “he speaks in a little-boy voice and looks such a Nautilized, dinky thing.” Her exciting, life-like descriptions make her writing very readable; people can understand what she’s talking about and laugh about it with her, as if mocking Cruise’s “diminutive” appearance with a friend.

Kael’s “lowbrow taste” also makes her reviews more alluring to her readers. She is unaffected by bias or predetermined preferences; she will give any movie a chance to be great. For example, she says, “so many people find a romantic movie… frivolous and negligible. They don’t see the beauty in it” (37). Kael makes her readers feel it is OK to like films that have a seemingly trivial subject. This is apparent in her criticism of Schindler’s List. She is not afraid to pan a movie, even if it is a sore topic to criticize. According to Kael, a weighty content matter does not necessarily make for a good film. In fact, she is quick to appreciate a more “light-hearted movie,” contending that “we’ve become a heavy-handed society,” that we expect a film to be “medicinal” in some way, rather than just entertaining (99).

Kael also has an amazing ability to contextualize the films she watches, applying them somehow to society. By doing this, she is able to cast her own opinion and make comments about the film’s societal implications. In her review of Funny Girl, Kael uses examples from the movie to explain how it does away with society’s “ugly-duckling myth” and instead portrays the backward message that “talent is beauty.” It is easy to see why Kael is “often accused of writing about everything but the movie,” but her applications of the film’s message serve to enhance her reviews, again making them more relatable.

Kael’s reviews are a refreshing combination of everyday, lively language and fearless opinion. Her ideas are straightforward and unaffected by outside sources. Kael is absolutely herself in her writing and takes pride in being able to express her ideas to her readers in a way that is interesting and easily understood. Kael states, “I love writing about movies when I can discover something in them- when I can get something out of them that I can share with people” (96).

“‘Porgy’ Meets Katrina, and Life’s Not So Easy” Response

Ralph Blumenthal’s piece about the re-adapted version of Geroge Gershwin’s “Porgy and Bess,” is both informative and engaging. Blumenthal opens his review with a strong lede, quoting lyrics from probably the most recognizable song from the musical, “Summertime.” He then extensively describes the musical’s history and its past racial controversy. It was interesting to hear how Gershwin’s work has been updated into a much more modern production, with “jazz-heavy soul and gospel orchestrations, choreography and imagery.”

As well as extensively describing this new twist on a classic, Blumenthal goes into a lot of depth about the history of the musical and how, during the civil rights movement, “‘Porgy and Bess’ was often derided as racially demeaning.” However, this piece contends that this new and improved version is able to “transcend stereotypes,” and instead represents “a snapshot of American history.” While Blumenthal’s kicker leaves a less than notable impression, his review of this Austin, Texas adaptation of a Gershwin classic is clever and well-done. With his use of historical context and stylistic descriptions, he definitely succeeds in building up the musical’s interest and appeal.

Once Upon a Musical

A broken vacuum cleaner, a worn-out, holey guitar, and dusty Dublin streets: these shabby images don’t often make for movie magic. However, they certainly enhance the charming simplicity of John Carney’s Once, a beautiful story of two musicians who help each other to find inspiration despite their less than luxurious circumstances. The plain but alluring cinematography, music, and characters make for a lovely, low-cost surprise.

Director/writer John Carney pulls off the low-budget style with unsophisticated grace. The rough, shaky camera work gives the film a documentary-like appearance, as if stepping into the real-life story of musicians Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. This style of filming also enhances the setting and situation of the characters in their cramped, homely Dublin apartments. It makes it easier to gain a sense of how poorly the characters live and how hard they must struggle to make a sustainable living as musicians. This unique aspect of realism is hard to come by in today’s films, and instead of coming off as cheap or coarse, this blunt authenticity is portrayed with careful and elegant simplicity.

As well as adding to the setting, this real-life sensation makes the main characters easier to relate to. Though musicians by profession, Hansard and Irglova achieve their roles perfectly, with unexaggerated acting and genuine, true-to-self personality. And while the characters remain nameless throughout the film, their direct, openhearted portrayals make them likeable and help us to better understand their relationship. Irglova’s straightforward, honest character is especially charming as she works toward helping her dear friend (Hansard) find inspiration and take action toward winning back his love. And instead of portraying a feeling of regret at their end parting, the characters convey a sense of gladness, ending the film with bittersweet beauty and hope.

Also adding to the underlying simplicity of the film is the musical score, which is both bare and beautiful. Hansard’s songs are heart-breaking but hopeful, enhancing the overall tone of the film. He and Irglova’s voices, though not grand or voluptuous by any means, are exactly fitting to their style: plain, straightforward, and heart-wrenchingly honest, singing “take this sinking boat and point it home/We’ve still got time.”

While this love story is not exactly riveting, it is strikingly realistic and charming. This enchanting realism is apparent in the film’s singular and carefully delivered style, characters, and music. While simple in nature and appearance, John Carney’s work is well thought out and makes for a Once in a lifetime viewing experience.

The Proud Critic: William Zinsser’s Writing About the Arts

William Zinsser has some very constructive and helpful hints on good critiquing in the chapter Writing About the Arts from his book On Writing Well. First, Zinsser makes a clear distinction between a reviewer and a critic. However, Zinsser’s high-handed, snobbish tone makes reviews sound cheap and shallow, something he describes as “plainer and less sophisticated” than a critique (196). He obviously believes that criticism requires a larger investment of knowledge and skill than your everyday review.

After identifying the difference between a review and a critique, Zinsser extensively describes what not to do when writing criticism. Again, his know-it-all tone makes him sound as if he is the be-all and end-all of good criticism. Regardless, Zinsser seems to know what he is talking about and definitely has some well-founded tips on how to keep your readers’ interest, while still retaining your credibility as a writer. He emphasizes the importance of detail, knowledge in the medium, and most of all, personality. He describes criticism as something that should be “stylish, allusive” and full of zest and character (202). Zinsser also welcomes humor as an acceptable “lubricant in criticism” (203). But he warns against using it inappropriately. Obviously, Zinsser regards good criticism as a careful art that requires both experience and know-how, and while his tone is one of haughty superiority, his advice is both helpful and valuable.

“They’ve Got Those Mekong Blues Again” Response

They’ve Got Those Mekong Blues Again by R.J. Smith is an informative piece about the L.A.-based band, Dengue Fever. Smith’s story goes into a lot of depth about the band’s background because, to say the least, there’s a lot of it. He starts by describing the band as “an unlikely mix of 1960s Cambodian pop, rock, and other genres.” With so many different styles and backgrounds, it must be difficult to group their sound into any specific category. The band’s formation makes for an appealing story. Vocalist Chhom Nimol’s background as a Cambodian singer definitely enhances Smith’s piece and adds interest to the band’s overall image.

Smith also writes about the band’s spreading popularity and how they have been branching out of Los Angeles. Though Smith talks a lot about the band itself and Chhom’s history as a Cambodian vocalist, he could have spent more time describing and critiquing the band’s music. It’s difficult to gain a sense of how unique Dengue Fever’s sound really is just from reading this article. However, Smith does a good job of building up the interest and allure of the band, most likely spurring several readers to go out and buy some of Dengue Fever’s music.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/20/arts/music/20smit.html?ref=music

“They Wrong. We Write”

On November 4^th, 2007, more than 12,000 screenwriters decided to go to war, battling evil producers gruesomely for- what else- money. The Writers Guild of America (WGA) strike has created mayhem in Hollywood, threatening an excessive outpour of reruns and a significant surge in trashy reality TV shows. As much as we all fear this development, Hollywood’s writers certainly have a point. Also, with the support of celebrities such as Ben Stiller and Alicia Keys, it is difficult to disagree with their cause. The internet is a profitable and ever-developing investment for the film and TV industry. The writers of these shows definitely deserve a larger portion of the earnings made from the internet. Until the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP) agrees to negotiate the distribution of profits with the WGA, no headway will be made, and the public will continue to be subjected to reruns and sleazy reality rubbish. These two groups’ refusal to cooperate also threatens the cancellation of the Academy Awards ceremony. How is the American public supposed to go without this annual dose of cheesy celebrity witticisms and Joan Rivers’ fashion critiques? Unacceptable! A compromise must be reached if there is to be any advancement in the film and TV industry.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/26/business/media/26strike.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

http://www.broadcastingcable.com/article/CA6498384.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2007_Writers_Guild_of_America_strike

Demon Barber Leaves a “Deep” Impression

by Emily France

This latest adaptation of the musical Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is a creative attempt to revamp a classic, but comes up short in plot development and depth. Our “hero,” played by Johnny Depp, is a deeply disturbed and revenge-obsessed barber. Though Depp’s performance is seamless, our main character’s apparent heartlessness soon robs us of any sympathy we might have developed for his oh-so-sad story. The ridiculously exaggerated violence overshadows the plot and any deeper meaning to be found in this film. The constant show of blood and guts is overpowering and does not make for a very pleasant viewing experience. For those who can handle the gore, however, this film could prove to be an original and unique addition to their repertoire.

While the violence is sometimes distracting, there are some niceties to be noticed. The acting in this film is both pleasurable and fun to watch. Depp, in his best role, plays the dark, brooding type perfectly. Helena Bonham Carter’s character is absolutely charming, winning over the audience with her blunt wit and pessimism. Alan Rickman’s acting also wonderfully enhances Judge Turpin’s wickedness. The costumes also add a unique stylistic touch. In true Burton style, the story takes place in a charming setting, with dirty, gray buildings and shockingly white make-up. The dark and disheveled appearances of the main characters certainly add to their attitudes of corruption. While the costumes and setting are fitting to the theme of the movie, the music is lacking in both depth and character. Composer Danny Elfman’s score is not quite cohesive with the tone of the film, and the singing is mostly awkward and unfitting.

While Burton’s adaptation of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street contains a few notable stylistic touches, the plot leaves us unsatisfied and wondering what just happened. The small number of original elements does not make up for the overwhelming gore, inappropriate musical score, and deficient plot.