Monday, July 31, 2006

in which I try to catch up

Last Tuesday I saw Wassup Rockers, very good, exhilarating skateboard sequences, kind of the punk rock version of the "China Girl" sequence in Mauvais Sang.
Final shot: close-up--epiphany.
Wednesday saw Os Mutantes at The Moore. Amazing performance, despite the absence of Rita Lee. People didn't get on their feet until late in the show--I could hardly keep still, but as no one else was up and dancing, I, typically Seattle, stayed seated as well. Sergio looks like Mike Meyers playing Billy Zoom. They did everything I wanted to hear. I was surprised to hear an English language version of Virginia, but apparently they recorded a whole album in English (which I've never heard). Sir Richard Bishop opened--at first, I found him merely pleasant, albeit proficient, but he took his final piece into raga territory and it just tore my head open. I was accompanied by The Prettiest Critic--I found it difficult to tell if she was enjoying herself or not--I was probably bouncing around in my seat enough for the both of us. My schpilkas perhaps is rather annoying.
Thursday, two more Luc Moullet films: Shipwrecked on Route D17 which was the least interesting and most recent of his films, despite an intriguing premise. Final shot: tableau--embrace--then pan up to sky. Followed by A Comedy of Work, easily the best of the films. About an employment officer who actually gets jobs for her clients who meets an unemployed man who is happy to stay that way. Incredible absurdist sight gags, and refreshingly cynical about the value of work to an individuals character. Final shot: protagonist walks off screen.
Friday: ReAct Theater's production of Six Degrees of Separation at Richard Hugo House. An old friend was in the cast, and I'm afraid I didn't stick around to congratulate her, as the production was pretty amateurish. It didn't seem like any of the actors had ever encountered a wealthy person before. Guare is incredibly hard to perform (I've failed at it before), and occasionally they managed to hit a few of the moments quite effectively, but there were way too many dead patches.
Sunday: at the NWFF to see Kaleidoscope Eyes : Songs for Busby Berkeley in which composer Chris Jeffries writes new songs to accompany musical (and other) numbers from Busby Berkeley's films. Jeffries is a occasionally brilliant songwriter--certainly his songwriting skills are better than those of the authors of most recent big-deal musicals, if only about on par with a better-than-average hip-hop artist--but a lot of this verged on Mystery Science Theatre territory and ended up pissing me off. Most egregiously was a song mocking the sexist nature of the big Dames number--it's not like these aspects aren't apparent to anyone viewing it, but the lyrics of this number caused the audience, which I think included the entire congregation of Seattle Unity Church, to start hooting derisively at what is one of the most gorgeous examples of Hollywood surrealism ever put on film. The thing is, I don't think Jeffries even feels that contempt, but found himself taking the easy road, the road that allows an audience to congratulate themselves for being progressive, probably under pressure from a deadline. But there were a number of songs that had wit and grace and ability to imagine contemporary concerns in a vintage style, rather like Stephen Merritt at his best. The last couple of numbers were perfect: working with the images, but offering an alternative story that celebrated Berkeley's brilliance, and a lovely song to go with the final sequence from Jumbo that made clear Jeffries respect for classic Hollywood cinema. The vocal performances were lovely, and I particularly liked the guy who sang in the manner of Dick Powell.
Finally: I watched Alan Clarke's Made in Britain on DVD. Although extremely well-paced, this again had a Socially Conscious Message aspect to it that kept it from ever catching fire. Surprisingly, I thought Tim Roth was kind of awful! It was his first screen job, and like so many young actors I've seen over the years, firsthand, he took so much relish in playing a bad, bad boy, that you can see his acting wheels turning--"watch me now, I'm going to really scare you!" I'm glad that this was not my first exposure to Roth--it would have taken years for me to take him seriously after watching this mannered mess of a stunt performance. I'd like to see more of Alan Clarke's work--he's clearly a great director, but he's at the mercy of his writers, and it would take a truly visionary director to move these films out of the realm of the trite. Of the five films in this box, Elephant is the only masterpiece. Final shot: freeze frame, close-up.

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