AT HOME AT THE END OF THE WORLD

BOOK OPINION

At Home at the End of the World
by Michael Cunningham
Picador, 1990

Everyone knows that the book is always better than the film, with the prominent exception being Francis Ford Coppola's film adaptations of Mario Puzo's novel, The Godfather. (Nevermind the ill-conceived finale, Part III.) Authors have ample pages for, and readers necessary patience about, exploring their characters in depth. Two readers can read the same book and come away with distinct impressions of the characters' looks, personalities, strengths and short-comings. When confronted with these characters on film, the result of choices made by a writer, actor, director and editor, they never match our own (superior) ideas. As expected, reading Michael Cunningham's first novel, At Home at the End of the World, before seeing the film adaptation made for a much more satisfying encounter.

In the book, the focus of the story is on Jonathan and Bobby, with what I interpreted as a little more emphasis on Jonathan. Clare and Alice remain critical characters in the story, but even they realize that they are but supporting characters in the lives of the two men. Theirs is a love story, albeit one that defies easy definition. The story of their lives is related by first-person narratives from Jonathan, Bobby, Clare and Jonathan's mother Alice. A key fifth player in the book is Erich, the major lover (and de factor boyfriend) in Jonathan's life. Though he does not get his own first-person narrative, he is the catalyst for much of Jonathan's development. His absence from the film is a major flaw, as I will explain later.

The central conflict in the book is the ability of Bobby and disability of Jonathan to completely embrace their own lives. Bobby, deprived of his blood family at such a young age, and lacking much of a motivational force throughout most of his life, evolves as a chameleon, able to adapt and thrive in his own way in suburban Cleveland, bohemian Greenwich Village, and rural upstate New York. Like a hermit crab, Bobby follows Jonathan and occupies spaces he leaves behind. He is most content smoking up and listening to records, and it really doesn't matter when and where he does it. Jonathan, on the other hand, is constantly dissatisfied. His intact family stifles him, his lovers disinterest him, his work does not reward him, and he views his love for Clare as maddeningly incomplete. When Bobby moves to New York, he and Jonathan and Clare ease into a practical three-way relationship that ends up driving as many wedges between them as bonds. In the end, Jonathan finally experiences the feeling of contentment, of living for today, for the moment, that has eluded him for so long, and he earns that by finally thinking of someone else before himself. It is a lesson that Bobby, in his benign and child-like way, had learned years ago and continued to embrace.

Cunningham skillfully develops his characters over thirty years of life, and he seems to savor their faults more than their strengths. Jonathan and Clare have a deep cynicism that gets a bit tiresome, as does their inexplicable desire to change their circumstances. By contrast, Bobby seems to lack any negative energy whatsoever. Perhaps these characterizations are meant to underscore their inter-dependence and incompleteness as individuals, but it makes it difficult to empathize with persons that are emotionally shallow.

The resolution works in the sense that the people that are meant to be together end up together. At the same time, its ending seems to undermine the alternative, three-way love story that dominates the book. There is an implied understanding, even celebration, of those that abandon their loved ones and responsibilities without any more explanation than a gut feeling. Cunningham addresses this notion, with different choices and impacts, more succinctly in his 2002 Pulitzer Prizer winner, The Hours. In both books, however, characters choose to abandon lives that are not truly their own, to reject societal roles that are basically forced upon them. Missing in these stories is the recognition that an individual's life is the result of his or her own choices, and the calculus for deciding must change when others' lives become intricately involved.

GRADE: B

ONCE

FILM OPINION

Once (2006)
Written and Directed by John Carney
Starring: Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova

This Irish indie music film has been making bigger and bigger waves recently. Made for $150,000, Once has grossed over $6 million in limited U.S. release, and has been picked up for wider distribution. Though this film has been playing at the Harvard Exit for weeks, I stayed away because I figured a film with such a lame title was going to be lame itself. Shallow, I know, but perhaps not as shallow as letting myself get talked into seeing based on some hyperbolic comments from film critics. So, I finally went.

Set in a Dublin that the creators admit is more scruffy ten years ago than hyper-modern present, the story centers around a street musician, Guy (Glen Hansard), and a flower vendor, Girl (Marketa Irglova). Guy and guitar perform Van Morrison covers by day and original compositions by night. He catches the ear of Girl, who asks pushy questions about heartbreak and forces a promise to fix her broken vacuum cleaner. She is a musician too, playing piano and composing in a music store operated by a generous owner. Before long, Guy and Girl spend more time together, meet each other's families, compose music, dream big, and start to fall in love. Or do they?

The second most pleasant surprise of this seemingly straight forward film is how it approaches but ultimately sidesteps cliches that define American romantic comedies. Hansard and Irglova share an awkward chemistry, something I initially considered a fault (due to on-camera inexperience?) but realized is actually rooted in the characters' relationship. Guy is most at ease when singing and playing, decidedly more uptight when speaking. Girl is pushy and a bit cold when speaking, open and vulnerable when singing. It makes sense that these two connect primarily through the music they create. It also gives the ending a logical, touching conclusion.

That leads us to the first most pleasant surprise of the film: the music is good. Guy is Irish, Girl is Czech, and they fuse British, American, and Eastern European influences in the music they create. Best of all, almost all the songs are performed live and on film, giving them a rougher, truer feel and sounds. Their voices crack sometimes, the harmonies don't always ring, a note is misplayed here and there, but it works. Thankfully, there is only one montage set to music; most of the time, the camera focuses on the performers and just lets them do their thing. I enjoyed the music so much that I bought the soundtrack in the Harvard Exit lobby, and I wasn't the only one.

Though this is definitely a music film, my favorite scene is driven by dialogue, and it doesn't involve the romantic leads. It is the final scene between Guy and his father (Bill Hodnett), a crusty Hoover repairman who doesn't seem to embrace his son's music aspirations. In three minutes, Hansard and Hodnett capture the pathos of a father and son truly seeing each other, and their respective offers of self-sacrifice are touching, and the scene is beautifully underplayed.

The film is not perfect, however. There are some plot points that seem a bit forced, and some obvious attempts to make the pair appear wacky. Also, it is always tricky to tell a story about a supposedly genius artist, and then show the work that is supposedly out of this world. The music is good, even very good, but it isn't great, at least not so much that everyone that listens to it (including the sound engineer) is immediately convinced it is going to be a huge success. There is some shaky camera work too, and that lovely ending is a little cheesy and unlikely if you think about it too much. These are all minor complaints, as I recommend the film overall.

Once is rated R for some reason, probably because of some bong smoking. Already successful in limited release, I predict that it will find even greater success in wide release, and become a sleeper hit. I wouldn't be surprised if one of the songs is nominated for an Oscar, especially because the music is far better than any Aerosmith or Randy Newman song written for film.

GRADE: B+

THE SAVAGE DETECTIVES

BOOK OPINION

The Savage Detectives
by Roberto Bolano
English translation by Natasha Wimmer
Farrar, Straus and Giroux (2007)

A truly original narrative, The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano is one of those rare finds: a beautiful, humorous, compelling and unforgettable book that I simply stumbled upon in the bookstore. I had never heard of Bolano before, but the raves on the book sleeve from Susan Sontag, New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and others convinced me to give it a try. Plus, I had a Barnes & Noble gift card burning a hole in my wallet, so it wasn't going to be much of a gamble on someone else's dollar.

Within four pages of the book, I was hooked. I have not read the book in Bolano's original Spanish (he is Chilean, but lived in Mexico and Spain for most of his life), but Wimmer's translation is highly regarded. The language is lively, evocative and vivid, gliding in and out of poetic passages with ease and fluidity. However, it is the story and characters that truly drive the book.

The narrator (in the first and final thirds of the book) is Juan Garcia Madero, a disenchanted student who enrolls in a poetry course at the university. It is 1975. A novice writer, Garcia Madero nevertheless attracts the attention of the story's two true protagonists: Arturo Bolano and Ulises Lima, a pair of revolutionaries/drug-dealers who have started a new literary movement called Visceral Realism. They introduce Garcia Madero to the fledgling (and loosely organized) members. They smoke, get drunk, have sex, and talk a lot of poetry, fiction and film, clumsily and humorously defining Visceral Realism by what it is NOT. The young poets deify and ravage writes real and invented, but in a way that made me desire to read more and with greater variety. Bolano masterfully recreates this Mexican bohemia with vivid characterization and dialogue, and even though dozens of characters inhabit this world, each one is carefully sketched out from the viewpoint of Garcia Madero. This tangled web eventually gets into trouble, forcing Garcia Madero to feel Mexico City with Bolano, Lima, and young prostitute named Lupe. The poets are in search of the mysterious Cesarea Tinajero, a poet with no surviving poems, yet who is the indisputable founder of visceral realism. Garcia Madero and Lupe are simply fleeing for their lives.

Cut to the long middle section, which traces the wanderings of Arturo Bolano and Ulises Lima over a twenty-year period, all told through the recollections of other people. This section frustrated me at first because I wanted to return to the original storyline, but I soon realized that the poets' wanderings were indeed a continuation of a grander storyline. We never hear directly from the two poets, yet they somehow become deeply fleshed-out characters while they remain enigmas at the same time. Their journeys cover Managua, Madrid, Barcelona, Paris, Tel Aviv, Liberia and the many roads in between. The wandering poets become observers and players in history, not in events of global significance, but in the minor scenes that were more common. Bolano and Lima travel with a weariness of the cursed, yet we never quite find out why until we return to the Mexico narrative.

The third act revisits Bolano, Lima, Garcia Madero and Lupe on their search for Cesarea Tinajero in 1975. Tracing one ghost or mirage after another, the quartet travel the dusty, slow-motion cities and towns of northern Mexico. What they discover is not quite what they had expected, or possibly hoped for, but their fates are determined in that desert. The story concludes with quiet resolve, a mix of tragedy and hopefulness. Quite unexpectedly, Bolano and Lima, Garcia Madero, and even Lupe find themselves leaving behind the world of the Visceral Realist poets. Instead, they choose lives that are poetry incarnated, becoming what the others only talked and wrote about. Their stories have stayed with me.

Sadly, Roberto Bolano died in 2003. His novella, Chile By Night, has been translated into English by Chris Andrews. His final book, 2666, is a thousand-page epic that was writing at the time of his death. Spanish and English versions of 2666 are forthcoming.

GRADE: A

YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN

THEATER OPINION

Young Frankenstein: The Musical
Paramount Theater
Seattle, Washington
August 7, 2007

Music & Lyrics by Mel Brooks
Book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan
Based on the film written by Mel Brooks and Gene Wilder
Directed and Choreographed by Susan Strohman

STARRING: Roger Bart, Megan Mullally, Sutton Foster, Andrea Martin, Christopher Fitzgerald, Fred Applegate


Tonight, I attended the first preview of Mel Brooks' new musical, Young Frankenstein, where it is having a pre-Broadway run. The crowd was very excited when the lights dimmed and the brief overture played. They gamely applauded the entrance of each principal character, with Megan Mullally getting the biggest ovation because there were many Karen Walker fans in the audience. Here is my assessment of the work-in-progress.

DISCLAIMER: It goes without saying that nobody in the stage musical will make me -- or anyone -- forget about the pitch-perfect performances of the film actors. Gene Wilder, Teri Garr, Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle, Kenneth Mars, Cloris Leachman and the great Madeline Kahn were, are, and will always be the definitive cast. The rest of my review examines the musical in and of itself.

WHAT WORKS?

1. ROGER BART (Frederick Frankenstein) is a funny, agile, and engaging lead. His opening number, "There Is Nothing Like the Brain," is a charming, verbal workout that nicely establishes Frankenstein's character. He was suitably manic when needed, and his crazed hair was just right.

2. CHRISTOPHER FITZGERALD (Igor) is brilliant, turning Igor into a spritely song-and-dance man. His physical movement is a joy to watch. Of all the actors, his performance comes the closest to matching the original.

3. SUTTON FOSTER (Inga) is terrific when she is singing her two numbers, especially her first, "Roll in the Hay." Otherwise, see below.

4. ANDREA MARTIN (Frau Blucher) and the Blucher character benefit the most from expanded stage time, including a funny little number, "He Was My Boyfriend." She has a couple of lines that made me laugh out loud.

5. FRED APPLEGATE (Inspector Kemp / The Hermit) is far more memorable as The Hermit (the Gene Hackman cameo) than as the inspector, and his song "Please Send Me Someone" is one of the comedic highlights. See below for his problems as the inspector.

6. "PUTTIN' ON THE RITZ." Thank God Mel Brooks decided to use Irving Berlin's classic rather than compose an original piece for the Monster's public debut. The Monster's singing voice, parroted from the film, still gets a huge laugh.

7. WILLIAM IVEY LONG's villager costumes are remarkably detailed and beautiful, much more than what the principals wear.


WHAT NEEDS TO BE TWEAKED?

1. The DRAMATIC STRUCTURE of the story pretty much follows the film's plot, at least until the end, with the musical numbers expanding certain moments. The dramatic highlight of the Act I is Frankenstein's ascension into the lightning storm, and it is staged very well ... until the platform stops two-thirds of the way up. Unfortunately, there remains about twenty minutes remaining in Act I after this moment.

2. MEGAN MULLALLY (Elizabeth) is hilarious in her first appearance, "Please Don't Touch Me." It is clear that the writers have crafted the role as a direct appeal for the Best Featured Actress in a Musical category. Mullally's voice is strong, even if it lacks the real power of a true belter. (See Sutton Foster.) Her second act work is weaker, but I'll get into that later. The crowd adored Mullally.

3. The character of ELIZABETH is forced into the story a bit more than in the film, and her second act appearances are too forced. Furthermore, her voice alternates from high-pitched to low and sultry, to Eastern Brahmin to Southern. She needs clarity.

4. Not all FILM HIGHLIGHTS have to be included in the stage musical, especially memorable lines of dialogue. So many funny bits were telegraphed to the audience because we knew what was coming from the film, e.g. the bookcase, the Transylvania Station, and "No, walk this way." There were definitely moments that were forced, fell flat, or just killed momentum. As Eugene O'Neill advised writers, Mel needs to "kill some of his darlings" for the sake of the story.

5. The INSPECTOR is remarkably unfunny. A big reason may be the absence of his dart-throwing scene with Frankenstein, which always makes me laugh. But his fake right hand is more of an after-thought.

6. The DANCE NUMBERS all resemble each other. Though Strohman is a choreographer first and foremost, not all dance numbers require the entire cast to come out in wacky costumes. There were times when I just wanted to see the principals dancing, particularly in the the big "Puttin' on the Ritz" number.

7. The DREAM SEQUENCE ("Family Business") is a nice addition, but it requires more of a set-up by Frankenstein's grandfather, VICTOR. (See my Minor Complaint below.) And all the Frankenstein ancestors should be distinct rather than the same. If they represent centuries of Frankensteins, why are they all wearing the same lab coat? Let Long go nuts on scientist costumes over the years. Make them real ghosts communicating with Frederick, and give them each a distinct character. How about if each Frankenstein had a short, distinct, solo dance?

8. The CLIMAX of the story is not earned. It ties up very neatly but uninterestingly. Basically, it involves a lot of people standing around and watching. Plus, the writers clearly want Frankenstein's embrace of his destiny (and traditional pronunciation of his name) -- "I am a Frankenstein!" -- at the gallows to be the emotional high point. The problem is, he embraced his destiny ninety minutes earlier.

9. SHULER HENSLEY does not an imposing monster make, but he charms in his dance routine. (I do think it was a mistake to make the shadow his own person.) With some more creativity, the audience can, and should, truly sympathize with the Monster, but Mel does nothing new with the Monster than he did in the film.

10. CHEMISTRY between characters, particularly Frankenstein and Inga. The only way we know that they love each other is because we are told they do. Elizabeth and the Monster have some chemistry in their nice number, but there is room to grow there too. The best chemistry is probably between Frankenstein and Igor.

11. Exploit SUTTON FOSTER and her talents more. Her yodeling is great in "A Roll in the Hay," but nothing is really asked of her otherwise beyond smiling and occasionally dancing, but her dancing isn't even featured. And the accent goes in and out, dear.

Hmm ... What would happen if Foster and Mullally switched roles? This won't happen, but I believe both performers would benefit from playing against type.


WHAT NEEDS TO BE CUT?

1. About TWENTY MINUTES FROM ACT I, particularly everything after Frankenstein's ascent into the storm.

2. The VILLAGE IDIOT character, who was too similar to Igor in stature and presence ... except not nearly as funny. His best line is his suggestion for what the town really needs, but it is recycled, and it would be funnier if Igor said it.

3. Elizabeth's ARBITRARY PHONE CALL when Frankenstein is about to re-animate the monster. It was like the Lady of the Lake's random appearances in Spamalot, and only served to remind the audience that the producers are going to push this actress for a Tony nomination.

4. REPRISES, such as "Together Again for the First Time," and "He Was My Boyfriend." They rarely worked in the 40s and 50s, and never work now. They command the audience to appreciate these actors that are putting on this show that you are now watching. Aren't they doing a good job? Give them another hand, folks. This is a show you're watching, in case you forgot.

MINOR COMPLAINTS
1. Mel Brooks was there; an usher whisked him in and out of his seat after the lights went down and just before they came up. With this being the first time a live audience had seen the show, I would have liked him to join the cast on stage and at least wave to us guinea pigs.

2. Andrea Martin needs to sharpen her "slow burn." The lines lose their punch when she physically announces that they're coming.

3. Jack Doyle, the actor playing VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN (Frederick's grandfather and Blucher's boyfriend) has one of those high, reedy tenor voices that mysteriously dominate Broadway stages these days. He lacks the gravitas of someone reviled by the villagers, and there seems to be no connection, physically or musically, between that Victor and the one that Blucher sings about later in "He Was My Boyfriend."


In summary, I laughed often in Act I, considerably less so in Act II. I sense the audience's enthusiasm waning when mine did, after Frankenstein re-animates the Monster. Still, we all gave the production a standing ovation. They are clearly working hard, and will continue to do so.

Much of the humor comes directly from the film, with only a few new elements that are as interesting. It is not as funny as The Producers musical, but I find that it shares many of the same problems. In both shows, the climax happens about three-fourths of the way through the story. In the end, Young Frankenstein suffers from many of the same problems as other movies-to-stage adaptations: not everything that works on film works on stage. To truly make a strong adaptation, they need to start from scratch: vivid characters, compelling conflict, and strong action. My feeling is that Brooks and Meehan started with the film script and said, "Okay, what do we need to adjust?" That is the wrong approach, especially when the film is nearly perfect to begin with.

OVERALL GRADE: C+