About Chicago: One Man’s Sad Journey

Act I: Setup

  • Chicago is being called “an attempt to revive the movie musical,” a genre which has been woefully ignored by Hollywood since Moulin Rouge and South Park.
  • It apparently won a bunch of awards at the Golden Globes last week, and now lemming journalists are herding it to the cliff of Oscar plausibility.
  • Despite a general trepidation/disapproval of the genre (See exceptions here), I’m writing an Animated Musical.
    Act II: Action
    I went to see Chicago last night at the Ziegfeld (now a Pepsi theater, so no small sacrifice)
    Act III: Resolution
    IT SUCKED. Catherine Zeta-Jones’ (aka, my phone pimp) was alive, and Queen Latifah had one good song (ok, great). But the film was emotionally and narrative…ly? flat. Feeling nothing, not caring what happens to any character, and not getting any sense at all from the film of where we were in the story, I almost left several times.
    Embarassingly, it was media hype of Richard Gere’s earnestly-studied tapdancing that kept me there, until I realized I may have already missed it (I hadn’t, and it wasn’t worth it). After the surprising turns by Ewan MacGregor, Nicole Kidman and Jim Broadbent in Moulin Rouge, the bar has been raised; “Wow! [Insert unlikely star name here] is singing!” just isn’t enough anymore. [Of course, Woody Allen proved it wasn’t enough before, either.]
    Lastly, the editing. If Moulin Rouge‘s occasional 100-120 cpm (cuts per minute) were too much for some people, at least they held up as a creative choice. Some of Chicago‘s musical numbers reached at least 70-80 cpm, but to disjointed, not frenetic effect. A barrage of nearly indecipherable cuts might fit an orgiastic mob dance scene, but rapidfire cuts of two women dancing on stage seems just like a cheap attempt to liven things up (or, more likely, feeble cover for an actress’s less-than-sharp dancing).

  • Guardian: Can Art Stop A War?

    Charlotte Higgins writes about art (theater, mostly) as a “powerful force for peace” during the Vietnam War and wonders if it can happen now:

    We don’t know everything about the Iraq situation; in fact, judging from the past, one of the few certainties is that we are being deceived. And yet to amass facts about the past is to find a framework from which to assess the present, and the future. And, now, surely this is what really matters.
    And so does art: I am the last person to doubt the transforming nature of drama, or the power of theatre as protest. But what I want, now, this moment, is not plays, not poems, not mythology, not art – but facts.

    Higgins’ hook was “US Revisited,” screenings and discussions of Peter Brook’s 1966 play, US, which set off a firestorm of debate over British indifference to Vietnam. Another Guardian article quotes Brook:

    To use a play to fight a war is taking a taxi to the Marne…We recognised that no finished, formed work of art about Vietnam existed: we knew you can’t go to an author, give him a sum of money and say, ‘We order from you, as from a shop, the following masterpiece about Vietnam.’ So either one does nothing or one says, ‘Let’s begin.’

    In his memoirs, Kissinger credits US and similar works for hastening the end of the conflict, which ended just nine years later, in 1975.

    Quick Sundance Notes

    Suzanne Bier's Open Hearts

    From Indiewire.com’s excellent Sundance coverage comes the story of the screening of Open Hearts, by Danish director and Dogme groupie Susanne Bier:

    In the middle of this witty, winning Dogme 95-sanctioned melodrama about infidelity and mourning, the Park City projectionist accidentally screened the film in the wrong order: after the mistake was determined, the audience voted passionately to continue watching and piece together the narrative in their heads. One happy viewer was rumored to comment, “It’s just like watching Memento.” [One hopeful filmmaker was rumored to comment, “Then offer me what you should’ve paid Chris Nolan, dude.”]


    Buffalo on the Montana Plains, Albert Bierstadt
    from the Collection of Ted Turner image:tfaoi.com

    Just two things about emerging filmmaker Richard Linklater’s short film, Live from Shiva’s Dancefloor, about that megalomaniacal kook from that double-decker tour bus movie: If you want to put buffalo on Ground Zero, check with that far more impressive megalomaniac, Ted Turner; he’s got the biggest herd of in the world.
    Buffalo Commons, image: gprc.org

    According to the National Bison Association, you’d probably max out at a rather sparse 2.2 head/acre, or 35 buffalo total, on the 16-acre WTC site. Not quite the inspiring herds we’ve been promised. Not that returning land to the wild is too far-fetched: the Buffalo Commons concept has been floating around the Great Plains since at least 1987.
    In any case, if you’re gonna go there, try Michael Ableman’s farm idea, which he floated last month in the NY Times
    Ted Turner bonus quote: “Just because you don’t hear him doesn’t mean he isn’t screaming,” says author Richard Hack.

    Art Worth Crossing The Street For


    Anne Truitt, image:danesegallery.com
    Installation view, Anne Truitt, Danese Gallery (image:artnet.com)

    Two shows of evocative new work by unrepentant minimalists are on 57th street at the moment, a moment when a pair of artists over 80 demonstrate the power and relevance of the minimalist mode, as well as the potential benefits of being in it for the long haul.

  • Agnes Martin is showing luminous new paintings at PaceWildenstein, (who doesn’t have a freakin’ website, hello, 2003).
  • Anne Truitt is showing several square column sculptures which give form and physical presence to color at Danese Gallery. [See installation views on artnet.com.]
  • Yeah, Capitalism, or In Defense Of A Collector

    Richter 858 Cover Also at Slate Joshua Clover writes a clever essay (very or too, depending on if those are exhibition posters or actual paintings on your wall) about Richter 858, a luxuriantly produced ode– in book form, with specially commissioned poems and a CD (of Richtermusik, I guess) — to a suite of Gerhard Richter squeegee paintings. Retailing at $125 and co-published by SFMOMA (who have been promised the paintings from an anonymous donor), Richter 858 is a “classic fetish item, beautiful enough that everyone might want it but priced beyond the reach of the great unfunded.” And that’s not the worst of it.
    Clover reveals that 858‘s editor, David Breskin, is an SFMOMA Trustee and “almost certainly” the donor of the paintings, facts which–despite a year of SEC reforms and disclosure scandals–go unmentioned in the book. “Whatever a given Richter painting, or a particular poem, might be about, Richter 858 is about checkbooks and culture–that is, it’s a book perfect for decadent modernism, where the art of consumption has replaced the art of production; it’s a book, finally, about collecting, that individualist art overseen by the twin muses ‘Dollars’ and ‘Indulge.'”
    “Dollar”: Last time I checked, what a Richter painting’s about, is $400,000 – 1 million, depending on the size and the date. A suite of eight, then, is about, well, you do the math. By making the paintings a “fractional and promised gift” to the museum, our benefactor (let’s call him “DB”) gives a percentage of the title each year for a fixed term ( ex. 10%/year, 10 years), until they belong 100% to the museum. Why do this, O Muse?. “DB” spreads a large tax deduction out over several years, which is useful if his gifts exceed 30% of his adjusted gross income. “Indulge”: “DB” is able to keep the art for a period of time each year in proportion to his percentage ownership.
    But there’s another muse’s fingerprints on this one. 858‘s not a catalog, it’s an experience Compared to the essay- and information-packed Richter exhibition catalog written by “The Brain,” (aka, former MoMA curator Robert Storr), Richter 858‘s multimedia melange is a work of the Heart.
    “Heart”: SFMOMA says Breskin was “compelled by these works” to create this book. Talking about the project and his interactions with Richter, Breskin’s giddiness (“As a sequence, these hung together and swung in a musical sense,” “I wanted to create an alternative way of engaging with pictures.”) sounds less like a trustee and more like a groupie.
    Trust me, that’s what some of the most passionate collectors are, art groupies. Going to concerts (openings), getting backstage (in the studio), obsessing over some lyric (work) and asking arcane questions that betray how powerfully a it inhabits your mind. Groupie? Check out Breskin’s 2-day interview with the Richter of 1987 rock-n-roll, Bono, for Rolling Stone. Breskin seems like the kind of guy–indulgent, clearly, but in a necessary way–who’s trying to live an art-centered life, not just an “art-owning” one. And by placing the Richters at SFMOMA, “DB” seems like the kind of donor who believes that indulgent art experience should always be available to the public (but who agonizes over letting the paintings go too soon).
    And besides, 858‘s 30% off at Amazon. A serious collector looks for a discount.

    Look At The Camera: Cyan Pictures Developing

    Cyan's Colin Spoelman interviewed at Topic MagazineNow that S(J03) is locked and getting ready for color correction and film transfer, I thought I’d catch up with the guys at Cyan Pictures, who I’d been in only intermittent email contact with for the last few weeks. They’re both walkin’ the walk and talkin’ the talk, in that order.

  • They’re in production with Adam Goldberg’s feature I Love Your Work, which emerged from veteran indie Muse Productions on.
  • Their first short, Coming Down the Mountain, has been accepted into the (rapidly approaching) Clermont-Ferrand Short Film Festival and the San Francisco Int’l Film Festival
  • And EVP/model (“just part-time”) Colin Spoelman gives good interview in Topic Magazine. Remember, ladies, gentlemen, writers of all ages: he’s a Scorpio, and if you want to get on his good side, his drink is Maker’s Mark.
  • Sundance Online: Vote For My Favorites

    S-11, directed by Stephen MarshallBreakbeat meets media hacking in Stephen Marshall’s S-11, which was made for GNN, Guerilla News Network. Where Norman Cowie‘s Scenes from an endless war (which screened last month before Souvenir (November 2001)) used FoxNews sampling to underline media complicity, Marshall’s S-11 is more powerfully and closely edited for musical and rhythmic effect, which enhances its criticism of the current administration’s entire approach to the terrorist threat.
    Bumble Being, by Billy BlobFrom the Flash Filosopher, Billy Blob comes Bumble Being, the bee version of “the butterfly effect.” Blob also did last year’s Sundance-ruling Karma Ghost. (If you haven’t changed your life yet, see it before it’s too late.) It’s stylin’ and simple, even if it doesn’t have quite the impact (so to speak) of KG, but the Flash bio that accompanies it is hi-larious.

    One, directed by Stewart Hendler, image:phantompictures.com
    One, directed by Stewart Hendler (image: phantompictures.com)

    Best for last: Stewart Hendler‘s film, One, is a stunningly beautiful short about the painful last moments of a young couple’s relationship. The hauntingly lit cinematography and fragmented, melancholy-tinged memories are reminiscent of the flashback scenes DP John Toll did in Terrence Malick’s Thin Red Line, and I think we all know how things turned out for that guy… One was produced by Phantom Pictures; this was their first project. DP John Ealer, however, is a veteran by comparison. Watch this one full-screen.

    From “Action Lama” to “Achtung Lama

    seagal.gif Mafia, Mafia, Mafia. Against my better judgment, I feel compelled to bring up Steven Seagal, aka “The Action Lama,” once again. He’s suing (again) the mafia (again) for harassment (again), only this time, it’s not the (via Staten Island) Italians, but the Germans. According to his suit, visible at The Smoking Gun, Seagal is being extorted and threatened with a “ruined reputation” for unspecificied damage he inflicted on a Berlin villa he rented while shooting Half Past Dead (that’s the title, critical appraisal, and box office performance, btw). In case the extortion charge doesn’t hold up, SS (d’oh!) added some more:

  • Fraud – Seagal’s reputation suffered from unwittingly associating with “nefarious underworld figures”
  • Infliction of Emotional Distress – The defendant/owner of the villa “broke into and entered” the villa during the lease period.
  • Breach of Lease – The defendant “refused to provide any sheets and bedding,” apparently contradicting the NYTimes’ claim that “(Tert�n Chungdrag Dorje) slept here” increases property values.
    Unfortunately for Mr Seagal, he undoes his own case in the filing: “The great success of his movies attests to the quality of Plaintiff’s reputation in the movie industry and in the public.”

  • Maybe Take In A Show

    The Architectural League, Cooper Union, and MoMA are sponsoring presentations and roundtable discussions by the WTC site architects and teams. Go ask the “Dream Team” what they’re trying to cover up. [Sample question (from The Last Emperor), while hysterically, spitting mad: “Confess your crimes!!”]
    Today (Wed.) at Cooper Union starts at 4PM and goes until 10:30 (it’s sold out, but I bet it’ll thin out around, say, 7.)
    Tomorrow (Thurs.) at Town Hall is a more civilized two hour program, starting at 7PM. MoMA’s Terence “I helped pick these teams” Riley is one of the moderators.
    [thanks, Gawker!]

    NYC vs. DC

    Like Europe, it’s the little differences. One that dawned on me at the gym: Underclothes

  • Manhattan locker room: shorts, some undershirts
  • DC locker room: undershirts tucked into shorts
  • Williamsburg locker room: I’m sure everyone’d be goin’ commando. If there were a gym in Williamsburg, that is
    Sorry, no pictures. [And, thankfully, Frank Rich was not involved in this comparison in any way.]

  • Describing S(J03): “How about… The Grandson?”

    This is what I sent to New Directors/New Films:
    Synopsis: A man carefully irons a shirt before spending the day at the rural Utah dry cleaners once owned by his grandfather.
    Utah Ark? It is shot in one day and is about the past, memory, and the links between history and present. It’s not one take, ain’t the Hermitage, though, and we didn’t shoot the nearby Springville Art Museum
    Dogme? Well, it’s close. Perhaps fitting for a movie shot in small-town Utah, it adheres quite closely to the Vow of Chastity. But the Dogme filmmakers are fighting auteur-y demons I don’t see, I have to confess, we didn’t put a record player in the backseat of the driving shots, so our music is verboten. And they don’t certify short films anyway Dog-me films, indeed.
    The Grandson: No violent deaths, no throbbing neck veins and stifled rage, but from the reviews for The Son and a familiarity with/admiration for the Dardenne brothers’ previous work, I have to imagine some of their films’ stylistic tendencies and refusal of melodrama have an (indirect) influence on my work. Cf. Souvenir‘s setting in a loud manual work-place, the handheld camerawork and (near) absence of music. I can only hope I attain some of their film’s emotional impact. Read David Edelstein’s Slate review .

    Peer Pressurized Cabin: A Recurring Look At My Neighborhood

    Gulfstream G500, image: gulfstream.comMy street may have more Gulfstreams than any other in the world; the peer pressure to get one is intense.
    Alec Wildenstein has one; he flew Nobu chefs around in it for his Russian girlfriend.
    Edgar Bronfman has a G-V, although it’s not clear for how much longer.
    Donatella Versace refuses to fly anything else.
    Ivana Trump doesn’t have one. And if Tony Mottola had one at Sony, he doesn’t have it now.
    Lately, for reasons I will soon explain, Cessna, the makers of the popular Citation business jets, have been wooing me to purchase one of their planes. A stronger man might be able to do it, but I worry; if I bought a Citation, would I have to park it around the corner, so my G-Thang neighbors don’t harsh on me? What’s a simple filmmaker to do? I want to be independent, take a stand, but it seems like folly to go against the sentiment of “the Manhattan street.”