THEATER REVIEW: CARMEN





Carmen (Patricia Bardon) in Carmen. Photo by Robert Millard.

 

 

Safety net

By Ed Rampell

LA Opera has launched its 2013/2014 season with a glorious Carmen. Experiencing the eye catching sets and costumes, the breathtaking mass spectacle and dramatic story and, above all, Georges Bizet’s entrancing, mellifluous music, aficionados might briefly feel what John Lennon called “instant karma.” When in Act I Irish mezzo-soprano Patricia Bardon as Carmen sings her “Habanera” aria in a Seville square or Italian bass-baritone Ildebrando D’Arcangelo as the bullfighter Escamillo performs Act II’s rousing “Toreador Song” in Lillas Pastia’s tavern, spectators may have a transcendental sense that there’s no better place to be in the entire universe at that moment than in his/her seat at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.

This could impart a rapturous sensibility of well-being, that all’s well with the world -- but such is not so with the title character (played by Serbian mezzo-soprano Milena Kitic on Sept. 28). Carmencita, Spain’s sultry cigarette factory girl, is a sensuous free spirit, one of the original femme fatales, who lives and loves as she pleases. The high spirited Carmen perfectly expresses her philosophy in the lilting “Habanera” singing: 'Love is a rebellious bird nobody can tame.' But in patriarchal 19^th century Spain this sets Carmen, with her “gypsy” mentality, on a collision course with her soldier lover, Don Jose (tenor Brandon Jovanovich alternates in the role with Brazilian Thiago Arancom, who played the part on Oct. 1 and 4) and the dashing toreador Escamillo (baritone Dwayne Croft played the role Sept. 28), who vie for the enticing Carmen’s affections. Like Jezebel, Juliet and an endless number of film noir dolls, the coquettish Carmen must be punished by the patriarchy for daring to enjoy sex.

The current rendition of this perennial favorite is similar to LA Opera’s 2008 Carmen production by Emilio Sagi, reprising the period costumes by designer Jesus del Pozo, choreography (including some stirring, stylized flamenco numbers, castanets and all) by Nuria Castejon and bravura sets designed by Gerardo Trotti. The latter include a stunning Seville plaza, Lillas Pastia’s watering hole, a mountain set (perhaps in the Pyrenees) and the exterior of a bullfighting ring. There Carmen meets her destiny, but a sharp eyed observer might note that the ending of the previous production is, perhaps, significantly different than in the current version. Whereas in 2008 Carmen seemed to seal her fate by her own hand, in the 2013 rendition it seems to be carried out by another.

The non-traditional multi-culti casting of this opera composed by Bizet in 1875 with a libretto by Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halevy, based on Prosper Merimee’s novel that takes place in 1820-ish Spain includes the aptly named South African soprano Pretty Yende as Micaela (Kentuckian Amanda Woodbury tackles the role Sept. 28) and South Korean soprano Hae Ji Chang as Frasquita, one of Carmen’s cohorts. When he entered the orchestra pit to wield the baton maestro, Placido Domingo was met with spontaneous ovations by the genuinely adoring crowd. Trevere Ross expertly directs the spectacle, which at times includes the tricky mise-en-scene of 60-ish performers moving onstage at once.

A number of senoritas in the audience wore red gowns and shawls to pay homage to their operatic heroine, the “scarlet lady.” Although set in Spain, Carmen is actually sung in French -- which may be appropriate, as this is sometimes called “the language of lovers.” Carmenhas four acts and is more than three hours long, with two intermissions. Plenty of time for theatergoers to willingly suspend their disbelief and ascend to opera heaven. Judging by this splendid premiere, Angelino opera fans are in for a stellar season. Instant Carmen’s gonna get you, as LA Opera shines on!

Carmen runs through Oct. 6 at 2:00 p.m. at the LA Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. For more info: 213-972-8001; www.laopera.com.

 

The new book co-authored by reviewer Ed Rampell, The Hawaii Movie and Television Book, premieres November 20.

FILM REVIEW: GMO OMG

A scene from GMO OMG.

Corn-you-and-dystopia

By Miranda Inganni

From the director of DIVE!, Living Off of America’s Waste, Jeremy Seifert’s latest documentary, GMO OMG, delves into the subject of GMOs, or genetically modified organisms, and how they are affecting our planet, our bodies and our culture.

Available science has made “conventional” farmers (i.e. non-organic farmers) in the US comfortable in their choice to use pesticides and herbicides to make a “safe and abundant” food supply. (Safe and abundant in this context means a food supply that would reduce hunger around the world, but that is obviously not the case.) The companies producing the pesticides and herbicides are the same companies that are producing the GMO seeds: Monsanto, Dow, Bayer, DuPont, etc.  The corn or soy that grows from these seeds becomes, in and of itself, a pesticide. Subsequently, lack of regulation allows these pesticides to be food, or get into our food. 85 percent of all US grown corn is GMO corn, which means that consumers are ingesting a lot of these chemicals.

The impact of GMO farming on small farmers cannot be overlooked, either. If an organic farmer is growing corn, for example, next to a GMO corn field and some of the pollen or seeds from the GMO farm cross-pollinates, or seeds itself, the organic farmer can be sued by the GMO farm due to the fact that the GMO plant had a patent. Sadly this happens far too often. Yet another way that huge corporations can keep independent businesses down.

Additionally, much like how antibiotics have helped to create the superbugs that now exist as a threat to humans and animals, GMOs are assisting in the creation and/or production of super weeds and super insects that are resistant to herbicides and pesticides. To combat these problems, farmers have to use these chemicals in greater abundance. And so the cycle continues ad infinitum.

While the physical effects of GMO products have not been definitively proven to be harmful or not (the companies supporting the research stating that GMOs are not harmful just so happen to be the companies making the GMOs and will not release the raw data for peer review), we do know that these chemicals are in our bodies, our food source and our water system.

Seifert clearly believes strongly that GMOs need to be brought to the public’s attention, but the way he goes about it in GMO OMG feels a bit off. While his family is very photogenic (even if I really did want to reach through the screen and brush the hair out of those boys’ eyes!), they are too much of the focus of the film. The scare tactics he uses – like making his kids don hazmat suits and breathing masks before running through a corn field -- feels like exploitation. And while he may care what cattle on a farm are being fed, he does not seem to care about the condition the cattle are in. When Seifert learns that his beloved mountain fishing ponds are being stocked with fish from fisheries that were being fed pellets made with GMOs, his concern seems to be more about the loss of his pastime than the fish’s health. If Seifert is going to get up in arms about his family eating healthfully and being concerned about the future of the worlds’ agriculture, he might start thinking about sustainable farming, among other things. (And, hey, try vegetarianism!)

Nonetheless, there is a lot of frightening information about GMOs in Seifert’s film and this is an important subject demanding discussion.

FILM REVIEW: AFTER TILLER

A scene from After Tiller.

When choice is not just a word

By John Esther

On May 31, 2009, while serving as an usher at his church in Wichita, Kansas, 67-year-old Dr. George Tiller was shot through the eye and killed. One of a very few doctors who performed late-term abortions in America, Tiller was killed by an anti-choice activist.

(In 1993, Tiller had been shot five times by another anti-choice activist. Tiller's murderer received a life sentence plus 50 years.)

Since his death there are only four doctors in the U.S. who provide third trimester abortions and they are the subjects of co-directors Martha Shane and Lana Wilson’s informative documentary, After Tiller.

Constantly terrorized, confronted with moral dilemmas, and constrained by legal requirements, Dr. Leroy Carhart, Dr. Warren Hern, Dr. Susan Robinson and Dr. Shelly Sella perform what seems a rare, usually revered, occasionally reviled, public service.

What late-term abortion critics do not understand (among many other things) is that women and couples come to these doctors under very dire circumstances. The women or couple is at a point in the pregnancy where the fetus is unwanted, usually not because it was unplanned or the result of incest or rape, but because after its birth the child is destined to live under unbearable circumstances due to some horrific fetal anomaly. Why bring a child in this world if his or her future is predetermined to do nothing else but suffer – especially for the child, but for the mother or parents, too?

The patients come to these doctors because they are at wit's end. They do not come here lightly. It is a painful decision and not a pleasant procedure if the good doctors agree (which is hardly a given response). If the doctors agree to terminate the pregnancy the mother must deliver a stillborn. There are no happy endings here.

Addressing an issue many Americans are uncomfortable with, After Tiller sheds light and humanity on reproductive rights in this country. For these doctors, choice is not just a word or a political meme, but an action to be taken with the utmost seriousness, sincerity and solemnity.

THEATER REVIEW: LOST GIRLS

Mommy weirdest

By Ed Rampell

John Pollono’s witty, poignant one-act play, Lost Girls, is an extremely realistic slice of life, from the actors’ wicked New England, where the playwright hails from, accents to how this drama shows, among other things, that a continuum of character “flaws” can be passed down from one generation to another. In this case, it’s like-grandmother-like-mother-(maybe?)-like- granddaughter/daughter, as unwed mothers beget unwed mothers with unplanned and unwanted pregnancies.

Thirty-something Maggie (Jennifer Pollono) awakes one blustery Derry, New Hampshire morning to find her daughter missing -- and along with her, Maggie’s means of transportation. Minus her Honda during the snowstorm, Maggie is unable to get to her job at a store. The type of nine-to-five Maggie does is never specifically defined, but the fact that this blue collar position is what stands between survival and her household being plunged into poverty is an astute observation of the reality of daily life for millions of hard pressed Americans.

The well-being of Maggie’s mother, the 50-ish out-of-work Linda (Peggy Dunne), who is dependent on some sort of (presumably) government checks to survive, is also at stake if Maggie loses her job. But the main drama revolves around Maggie’s missing daughter, the third angry young woman, who may have run away from home, been abducted, killed in a car crash or who knows what

Desperate, Maggie turns to her ex-hubby, Lou (Joshua Bitton), a former policeman who now works for the state troopers. Lou uses his law enforcement connections to search for their missing daughter and in the process bringing his new wife to Maggie’s home during much of the hunt for the vanished teenager.

The pretty, blonde, pert Penny (Kirsten Kollander) may not exactly be a trophy wife, but Lou’s latest is an upgrade from Maggie in the looks and class departments -- which the ex knows and resents. This inevitably sets off sparks and Kollander does an expert acting job as an attractive woman who is discriminated against because she has committed the “crime” of being desirable, and must prove that she’s more than just a pretty face from a higher income bracket. Confronted by Maggie’s biting wit, Penny counters: “I don’t really do sarcasm.”

The scenes with the grownups are intercut with vignettes of two teens on the run holed up in a motel, as they are ostensibly en route to the young lady’s (Anna Theoni DiGiovanni) older lover (can you say “daddy issues”?) in Florida, where she is being driven to by a male classmate (Jonathan Lipnicki).

Your plot spoiler adverse critic won’t ruin the surprises for you, but suffice it to say that while Pollono’s drama unspools, it has the air of a naturalistic work for the thee-a-tuh. In fact, in terms of structure Lost Girls is more cinematic and theatrical in a couple of ways.

One reason is the rapid scenic transitions from the motel room to Maggie’s home and back and forth, thanks to the graceful, clever sets of scenic designer David Mauer, plus some yeoman (and yo! woman) actor/ stagehand moves faster than a speeding bullet by cast members. There is also a good use of rock songs, such as the Rolling Stones’ ode to revolt, “Street Fightin’ Man,” which literally helps set the stage for this proletarian drama.

Rogue Machine’s Artistic Director John Perrin Flynn flies again in another hit by this agile theatre company that is generating buzz across L.A.’s legit stage scene -- fresh from its long extended (and well-deservedly so) One Night in Miami triumph. Flynn deftly directs the taut ensemble acting and tight mise-en-scène of a flawless cast who never miss a beat in convincing audiences of the believability of their characters and situations. Pollono’s dialogue is often crisp, cutting, clever and comical -- sperm, for instance, is referred to as “baby batter” -- and always effectively delivered. Enhancing the play’s realism are frequent vulgarities, partial nudity and (presumably) simulated sex acts. But hey, that’s real life.

The finale will have many theatergoers scratching their noggins as they realize that all is not as it seems as seen, and that the unpredictable dramatist had a few clever tricks up his narrative sleeve, making for an extremely satisfying artistic experience.

 

Lost Girls runs through Nov. 4 at Rogue Machine Theatre, 5041 Pico Blvd., L.A., CA 90019. For more info: 855-585-5185; www.roguemachinetheatre.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FILM REVIEW: IP MAN THE FINAL FIGHT

A scene from Ip Man: The Final Fight.

Fighting history

By John Esther

Over the past five years there has been a great influx of films about Ip Man (AKA Yip Man), a Chinese martial artist whose greatest claim to fame is that he taught Wing Chun to martial artist legend Bruce Lee.

In 2008, Donnie Yen starred as the titular character in Ip Man, and then reprised the role in the 2010 film, Ip Man 2. That same year, The Legend is Born – Ip Man was released. Ip Man also appeared in the 2010 Chinese TV series, The Legend of Bruce Lee as well as the current Chinese TV series, The Legend of Ip Man. Noted director Wong Kar-wai’s recent film, The Grandmaster, stars Tony Leung as the great master in 1930s China. And now comes director Herman Yau and writer Erica Lee’s version, Ip Man: The Final Fight.

Something of a part III to the Yen films, Ip Man: The Final Fight focuses on the later years of Ip Man (Anthony Wong) as he is once again forced to save the day. This time the enemy is organized crime, which has been allowed to run rampant by the powers that be in order to break up the unions.

Like the Ip Man films starring Yau, Ip Man: The Final Fight paces itself quite nicely, for the most part, between story and choreographed martial arts. Unlike many an American action film, Ip Man: The Final Fight begins with story before swinging in action – which is only a brief scene to establish Ip Man’s martial arts superiority and why people wanted to learn from him. However, as the film progresses there are quite a few fight scenes which are forced, but is that not what the audiences are here: to see some fights!

While the film is adequately entertaining as an action film and politically significant as the unions are shown in a positive light, Ip Man: The Final Fight, like the Yen films, takes great autobiographical liberties with its protagonist. While some liberties may be “excused” for dramatic effect (such as the film’s portrayal of Ip Man’s martial arts schools on the rooftop), trying to rewrite history is another thing. In real life, Ip Man was a cop and member of the Chinese Nationalist Party, so it would have been nearly impossible that he would have fought on the side of labor. Then there is a scene where he scolds his new and younger love, Jenny (Zhou Chuchu), for using opium during his recovery. In real life, Ip Man was known to have used opium (at least in his latter Hong Kong days).

Ip Man was a notable martial arts instructor, he was not a saint. Perhaps someday, somebody will make an accurate film about the man. Meanwhile, we have these kung fu pseudo-biopics to entertain us.

 

 

 

FILM REVIEW: SHOWGIRLS 2

Penny/Helga (Rena Riffel) in Showgirls 2: Penny's from Heaven.

Bore to culture

 

By John Esther

 

The follow-up to the notorious 1995, Showgirls, Showgirls 2: Penny’s from Heaven is actually better than its predecessor insofar as the original was not made to be the laughingstock, cult movie it has become whereas Showgirls 2: Penny's from Heaven is intentionally, unabashedly bad in order to satire wannabe movie stars, the entertainment industry and yes, its predecessor. In other words, it is so bad it is good.

 

Somewhat reprising her role from the original film directed by Paul Verhoeven and written by Joe Eszterhas (one of the worst Hollywood screenwriters ever), Rena Riffel wrote and directed this story about a Las Vegas stripper named Penny (Riffel -- now old enough to play an aging showgirl) who dreams of moving to Hollywood and becoming the star of a new dance show. Penny has no talent, formal training. or “X Factor,” but that is not going to stop this “whore,” “slut,” “trash,” “stripper,” and “bimbo” from making it.

 

However, just getting to Los Angeles is not easy. On the road west, Penny is robbed, then entangled in a multiple homicide.

 

Once in Los Angeles, Penny meets all sorts of egomaniacs, abusers, exploiters and television producers (but I repeat myself) who just want Penny, whose new name (sometimes) is Helga, for her flesh. Yet the whore with a heart of gold still believes in herself and those around her – no matter how many times they use her. Meanwhile, the authorities are on her track.

 

Deliberately pumped with histrionics, painstaking inane dialogue, soap operatic Sapphic sexual scenes, and editorial discontinuity that are outrageously tongue-in-cheek(s), the 145-minute film -- which definitely takes its toll on one’s patience (occasionally one’s feminism, too) -- makes the films of John Waters look like the work of Michelangelo Antonioni. Okay, I exaggerate for the billionth time, but so does just about everything in this hyperbolic striptease of wannabe stardom in Hollywood to make its point.

 

 

FILM REVIEW: MOTHER OF GEORGE

Adenike (Danai Gurira) in Mother of George.

Mother load

By Don Simpson

During a traditional African wedding ceremony, Adenike (Danai Gurira) is re-named for her yet-to-be-conceived first child, George. Despite living in modern day Brooklyn, the Nigerian-American finds herself entrenched within a patriarchal society, a microcosm of traditional African customs. For a woman, marriage equates solely to fertility and motherhood. It is not only assumed that Adenike will be immediately impregnated by her husband, Ayodele (Isaach De Bankolé), but also that their first child will further the male lineage of the Balogun family. In this culture, bearing a son is a wife's sole purpose; so when Adenike is unable to fulfill her primary obligation to the Balogun family, she is deemed inadequate by her society.

If Adenike does not get pregnant soon, Ayodele will be forced to take another wife. No matter who is to blame for their infertility, Adenike must find some way to produce a baby.

Director Andrew Dosunmu's Mother of George observes the smothering effects of a world in which women are seen as baby incubators who are solely intended to produce a male heir to their husband's family line. With marriage, Adenike has been forced into a warped psychological state of worthlessness. She has become a possession of the Balogun family and has no other options than to abide by their wishes. Written by Darci Picoult, the story is intimately told from a unique female perspective, while Bradford Young's stunning cinematography brilliantly captures the claustrophobic world -- and wardrobe -- in which Adenike finds herself hopelessly trapped.

There is a certain un-realness to Adenike's world, which is captured with methodical camera movements and purposeful framing. Painterly images are boldly presented with a hyper-saturated color palate, functioning in stark opposition to the brutal undertones of the narrative -- just as the luxurious luminosity of the characters' skin distracts from the pervasive darkness that is burrowed underneath. The colorful allure of the opening wedding sequence reveals the precise reasons that women finds themselves attracted like moths to the flame of this demeaning lifestyle. The beauty and elegance of the ritual reconnects this culture to their history in utterly transfixing ways, and is not until we travel beyond the ceremony that the inherent ugliness is revealed.

Several recent films have discussed the feminine experience of modern women living in traditional societies that are still bound to the roots of their ancestors, but none of them present their stories with the visual intoxication of Mother of George. More importantly, the beauty of the images becomes an integral part of Dosunmu's film, constantly commenting upon the onscreen events.

FILM REVIEW: WADJDA

Wadjda (Waad Mohammed) in Wadjda.

Wheels on fire

By Miranda Inganni

Wadjda is the story of a spunky, charming, strong-minded, feisty 10-year-old girl, Wadjda (Waad Mohammed), who dreams of beating her best friend in a bicycle race. In many countries this would be a simple goal, but for the theocratic Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the obstacles she encounters while trying to fulfill this dream are manifold.

To begin with, Wadjda’s best friend, Abdullah (Abdullrahman Algohani), is a boy, and girl's ought naught associate with boys in this misogynistic country. Secondly, Wadjda’s mother (exceptionally acted by Reem Abdullah) refuses to buy the bike for her, as it is extremely frowned upon in Saudi Arabia for women and girls to ride bicycles. But neither of these impediments stops Wadjda. To raise money so she can buy the bike herself, the determined entrepreneur decides to sell contraband -- homemade mixed tapes and soccer-team-colored braided bracelets. Such decadence!

When that scheme fails Wadjda signs up for her school’s Koran-recitation contest. Far more difficult than selling bracelets, Wadjda begins the arduous process of not only memorizing the Koran, but also learning how to recite it properly.

Meanwhile her mother is preoccupied trying to convince her husband, who is Wadjda's father, not to take a second wife.

Wadjda is the first feature-length film by a female director in Saudi Arabia (one of the most oppressive countries in the world). Per Saudi law, writer-director Haifaa Al-Mansour was not allowed to be in public with male crewmembers, which meant extra challenges, such as she often had to film from the back of a van, monitoring remotely. This meant she needed the actors  to rehearse extensively since she could not direct directly. This does pay off as performances she elicits from her actors, especially those of first-timer Mohammed and Abdullah are phenomenal.

Without ever outright criticizing Saudi law or Islam, the film subtly but decisively addresses female suppression, which Wadjda in her “Tween” stage is beginning to experience all around her. Al-Mansour handles this aspect of the story (and her culture) delicately and strategically. All the signs of oppression are there, but as Wadjda is the focus of the movie, she is, for now, content with the dream of beating her friend at a bike race.