****Mystery Girl

Los Angeles, Hollywood

(photo source: farm9.staticflickr.com)

By David Gordon – This book
was a gift, so I knew nothing about it when I opened its pages and fell in love with its surprises. Funny, complicated, well-drawn characters—B-movie cinephiles—living on the tattered fringes of Hollywood. “Some things are inexplicable. The human heart is one. Los Angeles is another,” said the New York Post review. The story involves failed experimental novelist, abandoned husband, and tyro-detective Sam Kornberg’s search for Mona Naught, a woman of elusive identity and tenuous reality.

The first-person narrator’s voice, occasionally uncertain, is consistently insightful and entertaining. Here’s a description of a cemetery in Mexico: “a city of tiny palaces that the good citizens had constructed to house their souls, like elaborate birdcages or the dollhouses of spoiled girls, far more splendid than their own mortal homes. After all, we are alive a short while, dead forever.” That last tiny zinger is what makes it.

Or this unpromising exchange with the Korean housekeeper of his prospective employer, when she answered his knock:

“Warren?” she asked. “No, I’m not Warren. I’m Samuel. Sam really. Sam Kornberg.”

            “You show warrant?”

            “Oh, warrant,” I said. “I thought you said Warren. No, no warrant. I still don’t know what you mean.” . . .

“Norman?”

“No, not Norman either. I’m Sam.”

“No.” She spoke slowly, for my benefit, as if explaining a simple fact. “You are Mormon.”

“A Mormon? No, I’m not a Mormon. Sorry. Jewish, I’m afraid.”

Occasionally, the narration is interrupted by other narrators, with their critical observations about Sam and his shortcomings, which put his actions in a new light. Author Gordon, in a recent New York Times blog, describes writing as a “risky, humiliating endeavor.” No surprise, maybe that about his writing, the fictional Sam is skewering: “I myself could no longer stand to read these sorts of novels, the kind I couldn’t seem to stop writing . . . It seemed I had dedicated my life to a question whose point even I had forgotten along the way.” His detecting assignment from Solar Lonsky helped him find it again.

Age of Innocence

Michelle Pfeiffer, Daniel Day-Lewis, Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton, Martin Scorsese

Michelle Pfeiffer, Daniel Day-Lewis in The Age of Innocence (photo: 2.bp.blogspot.com)

The Age of Innocence must be really over, as it’s a little hard to sit through. Watched the 1993 movie of Edith Wharton’s classic (read it free here) over the weekend (Daniel Day-Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Winona Ryder, directed by Martin Scorsese (trailer). Miriam Margolyes’s portrayal of the grandmother with her—was it five?—ever-present fluffy lapdogs was terrific. Credits were beautiful, sets and costumes the same. Some family discussion here about whether I’d seen this movie before, and I thought not. Remembered nothing until the final scene.

Not much happens on the surface in this story of repressed passion (though I’d nominate Henry James’s The Golden Bowl—at 632 pages—for the all-time “not much happens” award), and it could happen a lot quicker. You know where the story’s going from your first glimpse of Countess Olenska (Pfeiffer) at the opera—Faust, by the way, the very definition of temptation. Wharton’s book won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1921, an emblem of how tastes change.

Nevertheless, the photography, sets, and people are so beautiful, they’re fun to watch . . . for a while. Perhaps Scorsese wanted to do something totally different than Taxi Driver and Goodfellas, and didn’t quite know where to stop the pendulum. Still, at the time, he said it was the “most violent” film he’d ever made. Rotten Tomatoes critics’ rating, 80 percent.

A Most Wanted Man

Hamburg, port

Hamburg, Germany (photo: wikimedia)

Ambiguity, betrayal, characterization, desire—The ABC’s of John le Carré are all in place and working hard in this new film (trailer here). The setting is the gritty port city of Hamburg, from whence much violence rained down on America—and the dirty water of the first scene is the proper element for the dirty business to come—and the real world of espionage. I won’t say more about the plot. Acting throughout is exemplary. Perfect music.

(Must contrast this with the over-long, deeply implausible, and fundamentally boring Poirot mystery on PBS’s Masterpiece Mystery last night. What happened there? I get it that it’s just supposed to be fun. Wasn’t.)

A Most Wanted Man is both movie title and epitaph. John le Carré’s encomium is a must-read. Rotten Tomatoes critics’ rating: 90%

The Orchard

The Cherry Orchard, The Orchard, Chekhov, movie

(photo: pixabay.com)

Interesting experience recently, seeing The Orchard (trailer) at the Trenton Film Festival. In the story, filmed in real time, six actor friends get together for a weekend to prepare an improvisational performance of Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard—the world’s most performed play. Excellent score by Towering Inferno.

The movie script is something of a mashup of Chekhov and Pirandellos’ Six Characters in Search of an Author, but with its own absurdist excesses. (I’ve seen Six Characters and have forgotten it in its entirety.) With the heavy regional English accents and scenes where everyone talks at once, I missed a lot, but that seems the intent.

The private arguments over which actor should play which part suggest viewers are glimpsing intimate scenes that expose jealousies, rivalries, and personal histories. But, really, they’re scripted. After a while, the story moves seamlessly into Chekhov. And out again. Some of the non-AC scenes could be 20 percent shorter, but the cast is terrific in their actor and Chekhovian personae. As the synopsis says, after this weekend, “Will they ever be friends again?” Good question.

Personally, I think Wallace Shawn’s Vanya on 42d Street (1994) was easier to watch—another movie about trying to mount a Chekhov play, but The Orchard is a worthy effort suitable for specialty audiences with a taste for fine ensemble acting.

Amen.

amen, Costa-Gavras, Vatican, NaziCosta-Gavras’s 2002 movie about the role of The Vatican in World War II (you can watch it here) was certain to be controversial, as opinions are strongly felt, relevant information is still secreted in Vatican archives, and the movie is based on a controversial play, The Deputy, by an erratic German playwright, Rolf Hochhuth. (The movie promotion, like this poster, offended many, as well.)

Most interesting is the portrayal of an SS officer hired to help “control vermin” at military bases—typhus was a big problem—using deadly Zyklon B gas. At a concentration camp, he witnesses the gas being used against people and is so horrified, he makes many efforts to bring religious leaders’ attention to the carnage, believing that if they would only speak out, the horror will stop. He befriends a (fictional) young Jesuit who joins his crusade and takes these concerns all the way to Pope Pius XII.

In real life, and improbably, such an SS officer did exist. Kurt Gerstein was thrown out of the Nazi party in the 1930s, yet allowed to join the SS in 1941 and, because of his engineering and medical education, soon became head of the Technical Disinfection Services. In custody after the war, he wrote lengthy testimony about the death camps that became prominent evidence in subsequent war crimes trials, including at Nuremberg. Gerstein died in French custody in 1945, reportedly by suicide. His story is included in Europe Central, a National Book Award-winning novel by William T. Vollman.

Throughout the period, the Pope’s pronouncements were consistently anti-war, but vague. In the movie, he doesn’t speak out about the Jews, specifically, for a number of reasons (explored in an interesting article by Jewish historians here): The Vatican’s neutrality (the Allies and the Nazis both criticized it for favoring the other side); fear that Church properties in Germany would be seized, or The Vatican itself invaded; and concern that opposition to Germany would give support to the atheistic Soviets, with communism deemed the greater long-term threat to the Church. When this issue came up during a visit to Auschwitz and Birkenau, an American Catholic defended the Church, saying rather heatedly that the Pope couldn’t speak out, or “the nuns and priests would be next.”

People's Palace, Bucharest, Palace of the Parliament, Romania

Parliament, Bucharest (photo: 1.bp.blogspot.com)

Despite all this, many individual clergy and religious moved to protect threatened individuals, and the Pope himself quietly urged Catholic churches, convents, and other facilities to take in Jews, and the movie includes this. Amen. makes for interesting viewing, and perhaps we will never know the full story.

As a side-note, I learned about this movie when visiting Romania last year. Because filming inside The Vatican was not allowed, the movie Vatican was the enormous, surreally empty “People’s Palace” in Bucharest.

Such Stuff as Dreams: The Tempest vs. Ida

Shakespeare, The Tempest

Sherman Howard (Prospero) and Erin Partin (Ariel) in The Tempest, Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey (photo: imgick.nj.com)

Quite a contrast recently between the nonstop cannonade of literary touchstones in The Tempest—in an exuberant and colorful production at the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey, alas, only through June 22—and the oppressive restraint of the near-silent black-and-white movie from Poland, Ida, viewed the same day (trailer).

In the live—and lively—play, the portrayals by Sherman Howard (Prospero), Lindsey Kyler (Miranda), John Barker (Caliban), and especially Erin Partin (Ariel) were remarkable.

Shakespeare touches button after button with his iconic quotes: “Hell is empty and all the devils are here” (wait, that sounds like John Boehner’s voice!), “Now I will believe that there are unicorns,” “We are such stuff as dreams are made on,” “What’s past is prologue,” , “O, brave new world, that has such people in’t,” “my library was dukedom large enough,” or “he receives comfort like cold porridge,” Ida has hardly any dialog.

David Denby in The New Yorker puts a positive spin on this, saying, “I can’t recall a movie that makes such expressive use of silence and portraiture.” In Ida, instead of being carried along by a current of words, we float in a bleak, misty, ambiguous atmosphere, albeit rendered with beautiful cinematography, “every shot as definitive as an icon,” Denby says, quite truly.

But after all Shakespeare’s verbal passion, Ida felt like cold porridge indeed. Perhaps the filmmakers had some great story in mind and just forgot to tell it, because they give the barest of bones and leave viewers (me, anyway) with more questions than answers—not so much about the past, which the movie explores in sufficient glimpses—but about what is going on right now in the minds of the characters on the screen.

Agata Kulesza, does a fine job playing the aunt of the main character, a sheltered, opaque novitiate raised in a convent (Ida), played less well by Agata Trzebuchowska. The pair uncover a terrible but not uncommon World War II tragedy, and the question of whether exposure to her aunt’s earthiness will persuade somnambulant Ida to abandon the convent seems none too debatable. Bear in mind the Rotten Tomatoes critics gave it 93%, so don’t take my word for it.

*****Pictures at an Exhibition

Sara Houghteling, Nazi art, Monuments Men, Pictures at an ExhibitionBy Sara Houghteling – “A thriller, a travelogue, and a mystery,” said the Minneapolis Star-Tribune about this 2009 novel, the story of Max Berenzon, son of a successful Parisian art dealer who, in the 1930s, falls in love with a woman, Rose Clément (the real-life Rose Valland), assisting in his father’s gallery. The three share an encyclopedic knowledge of the artists and artworks then in museums and galleries and private hands.

As Jews, the Berenzons must hide in the countryside during the war, returning to a ravaged city, their hidden artworks looted, the gallery burned, and little chance of recovery. Those familiar with The Monuments Men will appreciate this perspective on the story. (In the movie, Rose is played by Cate Blanchett and called Claire Simone). Houghteling weaves a good story that keeps the pages flying, and writes with vivid style: “That same winter, I was in Le Puy, where the stark, bare tree branches were like Chinese calligraphy against the sky.” Lovely.

Berenzon’s father advises him to give up searching for the family’s lost artworks, advising they will not be recovered for subsequent generations. And, indeed, regular news reports tell of the “discovery” and return of looted works, where that is possible, is the ongoing purpose of The Monuments Men Foundation. Says Houghteling in a postscript: “The locations of some 40,000 art objects remain unknown. They are in public and private collections and, many believe, in the former Soviet Union, plundered a second time by Stalin’s Trophy Brigades.”

Hollywood Vice

Los Angeles, Hollywood

(photo source: farm9.staticflickr.com)

Vice—the international cultural and political magazine of the Vice media empire—devotes its fiction issue this year to Hollywood and the movies. Careful with that link, the magazine cover is NSFW, depending on where you work. Literary bright lights and Hollywood insiders like David Mamet, James Franco (a story about Lindsey Lohan), and Alec Sokolow are among the authors. Blake Bailey does a run-down of some of Vladimir Nabokov’s unpublished notes for the Lolita screenplay, about which Nabokov said after a screening of the finished film, “only ragged odds and ends of my script had been used,” though he received the picture’s only scriptwriting credit.

Vice was launched in Montreal in 1994, and the company is currently valued at more than $2 billion. In the last few days, it launched a sports channel to add to its publishing, online, and video stable. Since Vice is distributed free, with distribution points in major cities, you can read the content online or download it with an iTunes app, if you are at least 17 years old.

The Rum Diary

The Rum Diary, Johnny Depp, Hunter S. Thompson

(photo: pixabay.com)

Is it that drinking-to-oblivion has exhausted its limited appeal? Is it that we feel we’ve been there before? Is it that I’m just old and crotchety? If you have The Rum Diary (2011) (trailer) on your Netflix list, you’re in for a few good laughs, but a predictable romantic element and a decided downturn in enjoyment when the main character suddenly dons a cloak of sanctimony near the end.

The movie, set in Puerto Rico in the late 1950’s (great cars!) is based on Hunter S. Thompson’s book, and while Johnny Depp, Richard Jenkins, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Rispoli and Giovanni Ribisi (who makes the least likable character in the movie fun to watch) are more than fine in their roles, the material isn’t up to their performances. It might have been better as a straight comedy without hitting viewers with occasional deeply menacing information, then staggering on as if nothing just happened. Rotten Tomatoes critics rating: 50%.

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**** The Reversal

Michael Connelly, Mickey Haller, Lincoln Lawyer

If you’ve read the Lincoln Lawyer series, you know Mickey Haller does most of his legal work from the back seat of his Lincoln Town Car, which has the vanity plate NT GLTY

Got my Michael Connelly fix for the year—The Reversal—a 2010 crime thriller that alternates chapters between brash lawyer Mickey Haller and his half-brother (or did you miss that one?) cynical LAPD detective Harry Bosch. Both men have teen daughters so are especially anxiety-prone when a man convicted of abducting and murdering a young girl is released from San Quentin as a result of DNA evidence and must face trial again after 24 years.

It’s interesting how Haller—working for the prosecution this time—must introduce old evidence without revealing to the jury the prejudicial information that the accused has already been convicted once. Nor can he say why some witnesses are unable to appear (dead or demented) and interviews with them, actually their previous trial testimony, must be read aloud.

While this isn’t Connelly’s best, he never disappoints and received four Amazon stars from readers. If you like every plot angle tied up with a bow, in this one, that doesn’t happen, and the author leaves Harry still pursuing leads as to the convict’s possible involvement in other crimes. It’s as if Connelly was leaving the door open for a never-written sequel.

Matthew McConaughey, Lincoln Lawyer

Matthew McConaughey stars in the movie version – note vanity plate!

For a fun Netflix pick, Matthew McConaghey in The Lincoln Lawyer. Rotten Tomatoes Critics rating: 83%. I thought it was better than that, and I’d read the book! Also notice how the movie poster changed the license plate to “NT GUILTY,” thinking viewers were too dim to figure it out, I suppose.

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