Joe's View

With Joe Meyers, entertainment writer

Archive for February, 2010

Rent them now: ‘Invasion’ x 3

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A remake of “The Nightmare on Elm Street” is opening soon and let’s hope it’s better than the contemporary remakes of “Friday the 13th,” “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and just about every other popular horror picture from the 1970s and ’80s.

The best remakes take the original films and adapt them to new eras. If a premise is suggestive enough, it can be updated on a regular basis.

Witness the way the 1956 science-fiction film “The Invasion of the Body Snatchers” (above) was cannily remade in 1978 (bottom) and 2007 (below, left).

The Jack Finney novella about an insidious extra-terrestrial life-form that duplicates human beings and then destroys the originals has served for more than 50 years as a chilling commentary on conformity and the various other ways we allow our humanity to drain away.

The 1956 and 1978 versions are terrific reflections of the periods in which they were made. The 2007 remake (which chopped the title down to “The Invasion”) has some good 21st century ideas and scenes in it, but was famously tampered with by the studio (Warner Bros.) after German director Oliver (“Downfall”) Hirschbiegel delivered his cut of the movie a year before it was released.

(A picture called ‘Body Snatchers’ was made by director Abel Ferrara in 1994, but veered too far away from the original story to count as a version of the Finney book.)

It’s fun to watch all three of the films in quick succession to see how three different directors used the idea to comment on the social and political atmospheres of their times.

My favorite of the three is the 1978 Phil Kaufman version which is a wonderful mix of science-fiction, horror and satire.

The notion of aliens taking over the planet one person at a time — through giant seed pods that grow human duplicates — is unsettling to say the least.

The fact that these pseudo-humans live only to force other humans to change too is an especially frightening way of dramatizing conformity.

The director of the original 1956 version of the Finney story — Don Siegel — wanted to call his movie “Sleep No More,” to reference the fact that the aliens can only take control of a human subject while he or she sleeps. The human characters who catch on to what is happening are forced into the nightmarish — and exhausting — position of not being able to go to sleep.

This plot point feeds on a generally unspoken fear of what sleep might bring us — nightmares or, in the words of that old prayer, “If I should die before I wake…”

“Body Snatchers” also works as a political and social parable. When the 1956 version debuted, the alien menace was seen as representing both Soviet Communism and the red-baiters led by Sen. Joseph McCarthy.

The Kaufman movie has an added comic spark missing in the original. The film often plays like a satire of all of the self-help movements of the “Me Decade.” And what better setting for a late 1970s tale of sweeping human change than San Francisco, the place that spawned hippies, gay liberation and the Rev. Jim Jones?

Kaufman works at a much higher level of accomplishment than most sci-fi practitioners, with a superb company of actors led by Donald Sutherland and Brooke Adams, terrifically moody cinematography by Michael Chapman (who shot another great urban horror story, “Taxi Driver,” two years earlier), and an unusually vivid soundtrack put together by audio wiz Ben Burtt (who had just finished working on “Star Wars”).

The two remakes tip their hats to the earlier films in very clever ways. Kevin McCarthy (star of the original film) and director Don Siegel both have cameos in the 1978 film and Veronica Cartwright — who is so good in the Kaufman version — turns up in the 2007 film as the first person we meet who suspects that people around her are changing in strange ways.

There is no reason to doubt that some smart filmmaker a decade or two from now will come up with a new way to use Jack Finney’s amazingly durable idea.

Snow night at ‘Hair’ on Broadway

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If you can make it into New York City tonight, you can the see the hit revival of ”Hair”  at 8 p.m. for only $40.

The producers announced this afternoon that all remaining tickets at the box office for the show have been reduced in price to ”celebrate today’s blizzard.”

“Hair” is at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre, 302 West 45th Street.   This offer is not valid for previously purchased tickets.

David LeShay of the Theatre Development Fund took the shot below of his organization’s TKTS cut-price ticket booth this afternoon. They’re open today, but you can go directly to the Hirschfeld Theatre for the steeply discounted ‘Hair’ tickets.

Is the Internet generation prepared for ‘real life’?

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Andre Techine’s “The Girl on the Train” is the first narrative feature I’ve seen that deals with the problems of young people who are more comfortable online than they are in real life and who are still relying on “helicopter” parents into their 20s.

Techine is a French writer-director with a long list of credits going all the way back to 1969, but he has clearly stayed in touch with modern pop culture and the lifestyles of kids who grew up spending more time in front of a tube — and plugged into an iPod — than interacting with other people.

The “girl” of the title, Jeanne (Emilie Dequenne), is jobless when we meet her and living in a Paris suburb with her widowed mother, Louise (Catherine Deneuve), who makes her living taking care of the kids of working women in her neighborhood.

We follow Jeanne as she rather aimlessly looks for work and falls into a relationship with a handsome young man Franck (Nicolas Duvauchelle) with dreams of wrestling at the Olympics.

Techine shows us that Jeanne’s closed-off lifestyle leaves her almost completely vulnerable to the influence of other people and what she sees on TV and the Internet. She also never leaves the house without her iPod attached to her ears — her own personal ever-present booming soundtrack distracts her from what is going on around her.

Louise looks for work for her daughter, prepares most of her query letters and resumes, and Jeanne goes through the motions with potential employers (on a job appointment with an important lawyer — an old friend of Louise’s — Jeanne’s detachment and inability to answer questions leaves her interviewer visibly perplexed).

“The Girl on the Train” gets steadily darker without ever feeling melodramatically contrived. The movie drifts into danger the same way Jeanne does when her new boyfriend takes a caretaking job and asks her to move in with him. The job is obviously fishy but Jeanne never questions the set-up until something terrible happens.

The movie gets even grimmer when the girl decides to earn some sympathy from her mother and the surrrounding community by making herself appear to be the victim of an anti-Semitic attack on the commuter train (she isn’t Jewish, but hears about a similar attack on TV and decides to use the scenario for herself without thinking it through).

Techine never creates false sympathy for his troubling protagonist, but we feel for her because she is so obviously unprepared for day-to-day life in the modern world.

The director keeps repeating shots of the commuter trains going in and out of the city, implying that girls like Jeanne are legion. The movie is French but the subject matter and the characters both feel very close to life in this country as well.

“The Girl on the Train” is playing at the IFC Center in Manhattan and is set to open in Connecticut soon. It is not to be missed.

The Leadville 100 — why do they do it?

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You don’t have to be interested in mountain bike racing to enjoy the thrilling and beautifully shot documentary, “Race Across the Sky,” about last summer’s Leadville 100 competition in Colorado.

This grueling 100-mile race takes place in some of the most beautiful scenery in the country and the filmmakers clearly designed the movie so that non-sports fans can enjoy it as much as those who have taken part in such races (or dream of doing it one day).

As a longtime armchair enthusiast of skiing and surfing films, I was immediately taken by the high quality of the cinematography and the editing of “Race Across the Sky.” It’s a smart, action-packed look at an annual event somewhat like the New York Marathon, in that it draws a large group of competitiors who range from ordinary people who simply want to finish the course to pros and semi-pros who race bikes for a living and are desperate to win.

The movie was broadcast to theaters around the country last October as a one-night only event, but the Community Theatre in Fairfield is screening it Friday night at 7:30 as part of a benefit for the Connecticut Challenge Bike Race’s cancer survivorship programs.

The annual Connecticut Challenge has been held every summer since 2005 when it was set up by Jeff Keith and John Ragland, to raise money for the first survivorship clinic in the state. Keith is a pediatric cancer survivor, athlete, and long-time fundraiser for cancer research. Ragland is a cyclist and business entrepreneur.

“Race Across the Sky” shows us how the depressed one-time mining town of Leadville, Colorado, created the race 25 years ago to spur tourism. The event has gotten large each year with more than 1,200 men and women taking part in 2009.

Citizen Pictures — which produced the movie — falls into some of the same hokey traps as other sports films. The music is — most of the time — a bombastic embarrassment with jacked-up choral chanting that sounds like it was borrowed from the soundtrack of “The Omen.”

But the race itself makes for great footage of competitors working their way up incredible vertical climbs and going through numerous weather patterns — from hail to torrential downpours to heat.

And the rivalry between the six-time Lakeville champion Dave Wiens (below right) and international biking superstar Lance Armstrong (above) makes for some high drama (the nice-guy local vs. the somewhat distant outsider).

“Race Across the Sky” is a good movie for a good cause. For more information on tomorrow night’s screening in Fairfield, go to www.ctchallenge.org.

Alex Berenson scores a knock-out

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Former New York Times reporter Alex Berenson blends fact and fiction so seamlessly in his new thriller, “The Midnight House” (Putnam), that you get the feeling you are learning how things really work in the intelligence community.

Berenson’s protagonist John Wells is a CIA agent who believes in his country — and who knows that in the post-9/11 environment the lines between “us” and “them” have become very vague — but there isn’t an ounce of jingoism in the character or the story.

Wells is a realist in the tradition of some of the men John LeCarre wrote about in his Cold War era intelligence novels, but Berenson eschews the cynicism that has turned off some of LeCarre’s readers.

In the new book, Wells is in New Hampshire on a leave of absence when he is called back to Washington for a very tough case. Someone is murdering the former members of a joint CIA/Army unit that was interrogating detainees suspected of being terrorists.

The prisoners were flown to a secret outpost in Poland — via the “rendition” program — where they were questioned and perhaps subjected to torture.

One of Wells’s special gifts as a spy is his ability to blend into the Arab world — he is a Muslim and in an early section of the book we follow him as he goes undercover in Cairo, posing as a Kuwaiti.

Berenson’s decision to make his protagonist a Muslim is just one of the many brilliant strokes that separates his novel from a routine thriller dealing with terrorism and the Middle East.

“The Midnight House” is not an anti-American screed about the terrible things our government has done to suspected terrorists over the last nine years; it’s an examination of the challenges we face in trying to be decent while preventing our cultural and political enemies from pulling off another 9/11-style assault.

The novel cuts back and forth from Wells’s investigation to the activities in Poland in 2008 where he introduces the most interesting character in the book — Rachel Callar, the doctor stationed at the rendition compound whose job it was to monitor the psychological states of the prisoners.

Callar apparently committed suicide upon her return to the United States, but Wells and CIA staffers begin to wonder if she might have been murdered like the other Americans in Poland.

The investigators start off with the belief that the killers are Islamic terrorists, but as they find out more about the victims and what went on in Poland, they’re not so sure.

Berenson expands his narrative to show us in a horrifying flashback how one of the prisoners came to be a terrorist. The author doesn’t try to justify the character’s actions, but he does try to give the reader some understanding of how a video game-addicted teen boy decides to become a suicide bomber.

“The Midnight House” is so smart and so informative and so humane that it stands far above most other contemporary espionage novels. Now, I can’t wait to get to the earlier books in Berenson’s series (the writer’s debut novel, “The Faithful Spy,” won the Mystery Writers of America Edgar Award for best first novel in 2007.)

‘Eclectic Society’: Racism in 1963 Connecticut

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The Walnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia isn’t known for doing volatile new material — it has the world’s largest subscription audience (56,000) and tends to present solid, middle-of-the-road musicals and plays. So, you could feel the tension in the audience at Sunday afternoon’s performance of the world premiere production of “The Eclectic Society,” an ambitious drama-comedy about the huge convulsions in American society during the 1960s.

The play is set on a Connecticut college campus in 1963, just a few weeks before JFK was assassinated and “the 1960s” — as we now know them — really began.

In his debut play, Eric Conger — who went to Wesleyan University — shows us how the conservatism we tend to associate with the 1950s lingered into the first few years of the following decade. You can see that fact reflected in the George Lucas film, “American Graffiti,” which takes place in 1962, but feels like a ’50s story.

Yes, by 1963, the Civil Rights movement was changing the South — and mobilizing white liberal activists in the North — but many college campuses were still rather isolated.

“The Eclectic Society” takes place within a fraternity/literary society which is about to sponsor a young black student from Cleveland as a gesture to racial diversity — a sign that the organization is trying to change with the times. The frat already has one black member, Floyd Wiggins (Carl Clemons-Hopkins, above right), but he is a star athlete — in two sports — and is keeping a very low profile in terms of race.

Darrell Freeman (J. Alex Brinson, below) is a black street poet who is a few years ahead of his time in terms of his interests and his language.

By the late 1960s, Darrell would have been seen as a militant black activist/writer in the LeRoi Jones vein and would have been a star in the eyes of white campus activists at many Eastern universities.

Darrell finds a powerful enemy in the Eclectic Society in the form of Sean O’Dey (Paul Felder) who resents the fact that he has to help pay for Darrell’s lodgings and who may be an out-and-out racist.

Conger sets up a potent situation that explodes in Act Two — with a sensational scene in which Darrell lashes out at the fraternity brothers — but unfortunately the playwright defuses the climax with a twist that throws a wet blanket over the whole story.

Still, in this age of Obama — when we seem to have gone back to lots of veiled racism in public forums — it is electrifying to see the primal white/black conflict explored in a promising new play. The cast is outstanding, with special praise deserved by Paul Felder (above, center) who makes Sean so insidiously attractive and powerful (without tipping over into blatant anger).

It was clear “The Eclectic Society” went too far for the Walnut’s rather conservative subscription audience — the use of the F-word and a brief flash of nudity did not play well with the predominantly senior citizen crowd — but Conger deserves the chance to continue working on the piece at another venue.

(“The Eclectic Society” is running through March 7.  For more information, visit www.WalnutStreetTheatre.org)

The movie that changed everything — ‘Psycho’

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Those who weren’t around when the Alfred Hitchcock picture, “Psycho,” opened in 1960 have no idea of the revolutionary impact it had on the movie business.

Hitchcock put sex and violence front and center in a Hollywood film for the first time. From that moment on, moviemakers were given license to keep upping the ante. By the end of the 1960s, blood flowed freely in films as diverse as “Bonnie & Clyde” and “The Wild Bunch” and sexual situations that would have been unimaginable ten years earlier were integral to the plot of the X-rated 1969 best picture Oscar winner “Midnight Cowboy.”

The British critic and historian David Thomson takes us back 50 years in his excellent new book, “The Moment of ‘Psycho’: How Alfred Hitchcock Taught America to Love Murder” (Basic Books).

Of course, the motel shower stabbing death of Janet Leigh — only 40 minutes into the film — was the key moment that shocked and terrified 1960 moviegoers who had no idea that the director of “Rear Window” and “North by Northwest” would turn the camera toward terrible violence, rather than away from it.

The scene of the crime made the sudden murder completely unexpected and strangely titillating to audiences 50 years ago — the combination of the strongly implied nudity of Janet Leigh and the savage violence she faced was startling in the extreme.

But, Thomson points out how “Psycho” broke Hollywood rules right from the start when his camera crept into a Phoenix hotel room where Leigh had obviously just had a lunch-break sexual tryst with her lover (John Gavin).

We quickly learn that the man is piled under debt (including alimony payments to his ex) and cannot offer his “girlfriend” much hope of a future together: other than similar daytime sexual encounters in cheap by-the-hour hotels.

“Look at a hundred other films from the ’50s and you will not find the same cramped air. As a rule, (in other films) the rooms are larger and brighter than they would be in reality, waiting to be filled by the hopes and energies of the era. Most films of the ’50s are secret ads for the American way of life. ‘Psycho’ is a warning about its lies and limits,” Thomson writes.

The author tells us how Hitchcock faced opposition from Paramount when he decided to make an inexpensive little black-and-white shocker — the executives thought the material was so sleazy that they pressed the director to shoot the film at another studio and granted him an unprecedented deal in which Hitchcock would have 60 percent ownsership of the movie (a deal which would make him one of the wealthiest Hollywood directors).

It was only because Hitchcock was such a popular filmmaker — and personally well liked by the people who ran the Production Code censorship board — that he was able to include unprecendented material in a Hollywood film, including a shot of a toilet flushing (the first toilet ever seen in a studio movie!), the opening post-coital hotel scene and the two graphic murders.

Hitchcock knew he was venturing into totally new territory by killing the biggest star in “Psycho” about 40 minutes in. As Thomson writes, the murder opened an abyss that left moviegoers feeling disoriented and helpless — if an intensely likable star like Janet Leigh could be disposed of so ruthlessly, who knew what horrors awaited them in the rest of the movie?

Leigh’s performance comes in for considerable — and well-deserved — praise from Thomson who notes how much of her poignant, dissatisfied character she has to portray without the crutch of any dialogue.

In subsequent viewings, “Psycho” does indeed lose a lot of its power in the scenes after the shower murder, as Thomson notes, but Leigh’s performance and her sad dinner with the shy motel manager Anthony Perkins are as strong as ever.

After taking us through the film, Thomson traces the movie’s influence over the subsequent five decades which have seen Hollywood films include violence so explicit that many horror films have become a form of torture porn.

“There is no need to blame Alfred Hitchcock alone for this development,” Thomson writes of the ghastly special effects-driven horror films of recent vintage. “(They are) rooted in the culture as a whole. But ‘Psycho’ more than any one film had said, ‘Forget the consequences of a case study if the end product is thrilling enough.’…What (has been) lost (over the years) is Hitchcock’s unique jaundiced vision — the thing stressed in the first forty minutes of ‘Psycho’: his sense of the unkind society.”

Jackie Collins: she is her own genre

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 How’s this for an attention-grabbing opening?:

“Belle Svetlana surveyed her nude image in a full-length mirror, readying herself for a thirty-thousand-dollar-an-hour sexual encounter with the fifteen-year-old son of an Arab oil tycoon.”

Yes, Jackie Collins has a new novel out — “Poor Little Bitch Girl” (St. Martin’s) — and it is her usual, all-but-irresistible, up-to-the-minute survey of the lifestyles of the rich and famous in New York, Los Angeles and Las Vegas.

No one should feel sorry for a woman who has sold 400 million books in 40 countries — all 27 novels remain in print — but Collins has never been taken with the seriousness she deserves.

Collins started writing long before publishers began ruthlessly categorizing books, so she has existed outside of any of the contemporary genres like chick lit or the many thriller and mystery subdivisions.

“Poor Little Bitch Girl” throws an amazing variety of characters and plot threads into a juicy 472-page read that shows us how prostitution rings and hot clubs operate on both coasts (and in Vegas); how movie stars deal with legal jams; the extreme measures that politicians will take to clean up personal messes; and the way that celebrities can do just about whatever they want most of the time.

The high price call girl of the book’s opening chapter is Annabelle Maestro, who has adopted her New York sex worker name of “Belle Svetlana” in order to shield her real identity as the daughter of two of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Annabelle and her drug addict boyfriend Frankie have set up one of Manhattan’s most lucrative — and most discrete — escort services.

The clients are all high-end — who else can pay $30,000 an hour? — and the “girls” are the creme de la creme: actresses and models who love the amazing dough they can make in an hour or two. Best of all, Annabelle and Frankie run a cash only business: the customers leave no financial trails and the escorts pay no taxes. Isn’t deregulated capitalism great?

The trouble starts when Annabelle’s movie star mother is murdered in her Beverly Hills mansion and it appears that the perp could be the victim’s Bruce Willis/Mel Gibson-style action movie superstar husband.

As if that plot was not enough to keep us going, Collins shifts the scene to D.C. where an old high school pal of Annabelle’s — political aide Carolyn Henderson — finds out she is pregnant by her married U.S. Senator lover and hopes this will mean he leaves his wife and marries her. Guess what? The politician has other ideas and suddenly Carolyn is in terrible jeopardy.

Collins keeps all of her subplots smoothly on track and ends nearly every chapter with a new development or a shock that demands the reader keep going — I polished the book off in two very entertaining sittings. One of Collins’s least written-about virtues is her wild sense of humor: who else can write sex scenes that are steamy and laugh-out-loud funny? 

Non-Collins readers — who are some of her harshest critics — won’t believe this, but the veteran best-seller creator has few peers when it comes to telling a good story (with the bonus of fascinating background material on the madder precincts of show business).

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