The Sun Is Also A Star: A Fairytale Teen Romance, A NYC Valentine

The Sun Is Also A Star
directed by Ry Russo-Young, starring Yara Shahidi, Charles Melton

The Sun Is Also A Star is a fairy tale, adapted from the popular YA novel by Nicola Yoon. It's a day in the life of Natasha Kingsley (grown-ish's Yara Shahidi), a high school senior from a Jamaican immigrant family in Brooklyn who makes a last-ditch effort to prevent them all from being deported the very next day. By pure chance, on the way to INS in Federal Plaza, she crosses paths with Daniel Bae (Riverdale's Charles Melton), a high school senior from a Korean immigrant family in Queens who, while on his way to a future he doesn't want as a Dartmouth medical school student, decides that Natasha is his destiny. All of this information is easily gleaned from the many TV promos and theater previews we've seen of the film. To add a twist, Natasha is presented as a smart, data-obsessed realist who doesn't believe in love while Daniel is willing to buck a medical career because of his obsession with poetry.

For reasons that I don't get, and only serve the film, the two are obsessed with the concept of Deus Ex Machina, which as I understand it is a term applied to narratives like this one where an unexplained and totally contrived miracle save the day. There are numerous coincidences in the film, first with Daniel spotting Natasha in Grand Central Station and trying to follow her (stalker), then in randomly seeing her again on the downtown subway and then snatching her back from being hit by a reckless driver on the street. And that's just for starters. For these two lovebirds, the term "Deus Ex Machina" (emblazoned on the back of Natasha's satin jacket) seems to simply mean fate and miracles. But for those who craft narratives, it's a cheap solution for wrapping up a plot that has become way too hairy to resolve in a realistic way. And that's exactly what we get here.

It's a fairy tale to think that love can be achieved in one single day. In this story, though Natasha states early on that she doesn't believe in love, after a few hours with this tall, handsome stranger she is eagerly making out with him (hormones, people.) It's also a distinctly female fantasy to have a gorgeous young man be completely dedicated to making love happen within a day, and Daniel is sexy and persistent without seeming creepy. And only in a fairy tale would a busy immigration lawyer (played by John Leguizamo) turn into a fairy godmother who takes on the case of a last-minute teenaged client. It would also take a fairy tale for a pair of teenagers to spend the night together sleeping outside in the park and not be a. mugged, b. arrested, or c. beaten within an inch of their lives by worried parents.

Like the walking-and-talking-across-the-city film tradition it follows, most notably the Ethan Hawke-Julie Delpy trilogy Before Sunrise/Before Sunset/Before Midnight and even the Chris Rock-Rosario Dawson comedy Top Five, The Sun Is Also A Star has the two leads pose leading questions that pull these two met-cute young folks into thoughtful discussion and instant intimacy while making the rounds of appointments and errands across the city. They encounter some hurdles, most notably when Natasha finally reveals that she's on the verge of leaving the country for good and that they have no viable future. Their only culture clash seems to come from his family; when Natasha comes along as Daniel delivers a bank deposit to his father's business, it turns out to be a black hair care emporium in Harlem (Daniel gives us a history of how Koreans cornered the black hair market). While there, his lunkhead brother makes a racist joke about her being a shoplifter and his father offers her the economy sized jar of relaxer to tame her natural hair. The scene is awkward and mortifying; out on the street again with Daniel, Natasha shrugs it off.

There is no denying the physical beauty and sex appeal of the film's two stars, and the camera lingers lovingly on their faces to make sure that we fall in love with them, too. What's more, they are given interesting and romantic backdrops from the big city in which to fall, adding to the spell the film attempts to weave. The idea of a romance that could occur in one day between two apparently thoughtful and aware young people seemed appealing to my middle-aged sensibilities. Even though I am old enough so that the pillow-lipped Shahidi and dimpled Melton could be my grandchildren. As I watched the film I became deeply and profoundly affected, yea, near tears with sentimental longing and romantic regret. Did my tears well up in response to the burgeoning and rather hasty and oh so unrealistic teen romance beign presented as the film's primary narrative? No. My emotions were pricked by my love of New York City.

Big Apple, I miss you so much! Though we had to break up our love affair, I still treasure our precious memories.

You see, New York City is the town where I was born and raised. I haven't lived there for a few decades now. But glimpsed lovingly through the lens of cinematographer Autumn Durald, as lead characters Natasha and Daniel spend a day wandering, the city today looked as appealing, challenging, beautiful and grimey as ever. In The Sun Is Also A Star, viewers ride the subway along elevated tracks from the boroughs, and underground from Wall Street to 125th Street, from Borough Hall to East 86th Street. We revisit Caffe Reggio, a landmark of Greenwich Village. We glide through the Hayden Planetarium on the upper East Side, watching the sky show. We stroll through Chinatown and SoHo and along the East River. We get to ride the tram to Roosevelt Island. We traverse 125th Street in Harlem. We cross Broadway and Lincoln Center and spend moments in the marble great room at Grand Central Station considering its zodiac-emblazoned ceiling. The camera pans over the city's bridges, Central Park, the Chrysler Building. And I'm swooning.

I was instantly brought back to the days of my teenage years, when I knew almost every corner and every neighborhood of Manhattan and felt lucky to be there. Because mine was an untraditional school, our gym classes were held in Central Park or Hunter College or at the 14th Street Bowl-Mor Lanes (now demolished) and we had to get ourselves there on time the best way we could, as though we were already in college. We frequented foreign films on East 68th street, and midnight showings at blockbuster cinemas in Times Square or on 96th Street, we went clubbing around the East Side, shopped bargains along Delancey and Canal Streets, went to the Jazzmobile shows outside by Grant's Tomb on Riverside Drive, went roller-skating indoors in the meatpacking district, took dance and music lessons in Harlem, rode the Staten Island ferry back and forth for fun. Living in the outer boroughs, as some of my friends and I did, meant that when we went into The City on the weekends or during the summers, we stayed for the day; we found ways to kill time in department stores, hotel lounge areas, park benches, the museums, the 42nd Street Fifth Avenue Library, neighborhood cafes and luncheonettes, and movie matinees. When carfare was an issue, we walked the city blocks from the east side to the west side, from uptown to midtown and back, particularly in the summers. The food we ate -- the bagels and street cart hotdogs and knishes and hot pretzels and toasted chestnuts and Jamaican meat patties and cuchifritos and Chinese dumplings and pizza -- oh the pizza! We didn't have cars, we didn't go to high school dances, we had no prom, our parents didn't belong to clubs. We were very independent big city kids. And that's what this movie reminded me of, the golden days when New York was my playground.

But I digress. As in most fairy tales, eventually there is a happy ending. Though things looked bleak for our modern-day Romeo and Juliet, and they were lost to one another, coincidence -- nay, Deus-ex-Machina aka an act of God -- puts the erstwhile lovers in the same place at the same time and the film ends with a kiss, as all good love stories should.

The story doesn't make a lot of earthly sense, but it's sweet and a great vehicle for its stars. In the meantime, I'm planning to head back to the Big Apple for a visit quite soon.

Black History Month: Looking Back at "The Brother From Another Planet"

As February is Black History Month, I thought it would be interesting to take a look back at some screen projects that have been overlooked, unsung, or considered also-rans in the canon of African America film.

Brother From Another Planet (1984)
Written, Directed and Edited by John Sayles
Starring Joe Morton

This film is a personal favorite of mine. Eight years after David Bowie was The Man Who Fell to Earth, and the very same year that Jeff Bridges portrayed an alien who just wants to get home in Starman, Joe Morton made his breakout performance in this John Sayles indie as a dreadlocked, goodhearted alien who crashlands on New York's Ellis Island and tries to understand what earthlings are all about. His journey is complicated by the fact that he is mute and can hear the voices of humans embedded in the objects they used. He appears mostly human, but his three-toed feet -- not to mention his extra-sensory perceptions -- mark him as different.

He manages to cross the Hudson and arrive at 125th Street in Harlem, where his skintone helps him blend in. But soon he is assaulted by the sounds of multiple languages, hip-hop, salsa, and video games, and confronted by images of a crucified Jesus, street crime, and drug use. Living by his wits and an alien ability to heal wounds and manipulate machinery, the Brother is helped by a local social worker (Tom Wright) and winds up with a job and a place to live with a chatty single mother (Caroline Aaron) and her young biracial son.

The brilliance of this film is that we see the complete absurdity, violence, variety, vice and mayhem of contemporary life through his eyes. What's more, in the presence of a man who doesn't speak, nearly every person he runs across becomes a virtual motormouth, giving sway to their beliefs, fears, prejudices, memories, and hopes as he listens, wide-eyed and agog.

As it turns out, the Brother is a fugitive from his planet's justice, and when white bounty hunters in black arrive (played by David Strathairn and Sayles himself) it becomes clear that on his planet, he was held as a slave.

Perhaps best known today as "Papa Pope" on TV's Scandal, Joe Morton is in nearly every scene and he is absolutely brilliant. His eyes say everything about the predicament he finds himself in, and his physicality communicates the sensory discomfort and surprise of being in unfamiliar surroundings.

He is surrounded by an ace troupe of reliable stage and screen character actors, including Broadway and recording legend Dee Dee Bridgewater as a local singer who turns on her love light; Carl Gordon (known as Charles Dutton's father on '90s sitcom Roc) as a romantic rival; busy character actor Bill Cobbs (seen on Greenleaf) as a barroom philosopher; funnyman Leonard Jackson (Carwash, Boomerang, The Color Purple) as another barroom pal; Caroline Aaron, who's appeared in dozens of films and plays the mother of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel; and Tom Wright, a stalwart from dozens of TV shows (including Punch from Ray Donovan) as a helpful social worker. Even Josh Mostel shows up for two minutes as a Casio keyboard vendor.

Sayles has made a career of making independent movies that look at the impact of race, sex, and class on the intersected lives of community members (his 1996 film about a Texas border town Lone Star and a southern Florida town in 2002's Sunshine State are other personal favorites). He also adds clever references to other films, including The Treasure of the Sierra Madre ("we don't need no stinkin' badges!"), the Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and other films. Here Sayles makes us consider just what we have wrought as a society.

While we have a long way to go in terms of a truly harmonious planet, freedom from bondage on Earth -- strange as it is -- looks like Heaven to this Brother.

Totally Underwater: "Aquaman"

Aquaman
directed by James Wan
starring Jason Momoa, Willem Dafoe, Amber Heard, Patrick Wilson, Nicole Kidman

Recommended? Only for serious superhero fanatics. Otherwise no.

I am not a staunch follower of superhero films, but I do enjoy a good adventure yarn as well as elements of fantasy and the ongoing struggle between good and evil. The best superhero stories follow the classic Hero's Journey plot, with some snappy dialogue, good pacing, a believable alternate universe, and a sympathetic hero. Sequels should be able to stand on their own as individual films. I was stoked to see Aquaman because this hero comes from a unique world, and because, let's face it, it's Jason Momoa.

What a letdown.

Aquaman is a cool bro named Arthur Curry, whose long-lost mom was queen of Atlantis. First of all, though this film is supposed to be the Aquaman Origin Story, it's less about how Aquaman became Aquaman and more about how he became King of Atlantis despite being half human. Second: Arthur is a terrible name for a superhero; apologies to all the Arthurs out there, but it just made me think of King Arthur and the Round Table, and the whole journey to find the ancient trident of a long-dead original king of Atlantis is straight Sword In The Stone, Excalibur stuff. Third, I didn't get a feel for the adult Arthur, though we do find out that he was raised with an awareness of his underwater royal heritage, developed some cool Atlantean skills, and loves his lighthouse-keeping dad. Basically, he's ... likeable, laidback Jason Momoa. He looks the same in the film as he does in his daily life: mane of flowing hair, tats, jewelry, Polynesian origins and boots intact.

Yes, Aquaman's origins are sketched out, but at the top of the film he is already established as Aquaman, and he even makes light of his celebrity by mugging with fans for pictures. We learn that Arthur can swim like the devil, breathe underwater, has incredible strength, can take a punch or two. We see him save a Russian submarine from pirates led by a very Angry Black Man whose father and mentor ends up dying in the fight. When Pirate Pop passes, Arthur feels bad. That's how we know he's just a goodhearted dude. But I still didn't get a sense of his hopes and dreams, fears or insecurities before a Princess from the Deep shows up to drag him into the undersea beef he knows nothing about. I guess my quibble is that I would have wanted to see more about how he first took on the mantle of being Aquaman -- not just a kid who can breathe underwater and commune with sea creatures, but become a bona fide superhero who decides to do good and ally himself with the Justice League. Not having seen many of the previous Justice League-related films, I'm probably at a disadvantage.

While the underwater scenes are mostly well done in terms of flowing hair and floating objects, they are busy. In fact, the backstory lore of how Atlantis fell and turned into seven different ocean kingdoms with different creatures of varying abilities, intelligence, and alliances was just hella hard to follow. The costumes for the Atlantis folks were also Arthurian, with a lot of medieval-style armor and helmets that looked totally out of place in the ocean and raised unintentional concerns, at least in my mind, about anchor weights, rust and corrosion. Perhaps this costuming scheme came directly from the original DC Comics visuals.

Playing a trusted palace advisor with perennially slicked-back hair, Willem Dafoe looked like he was in a samurai movie. Or maybe that was him behind the fish mask in The Shape of Water. Some of the marine creatures used as transportation were unintentionally hilarious. The whole romance plotline between Arthur and Princess Mera (Heard) is cheesy. His jealous half-brother Orm (Wilson), who was fighting to keep the crown of Atlantis -- is a cardboard villain. With the film hurtling along and cramming in so much information--most of it visual CGI wizardry--there was less time to develop a story that would really invoke some emotion.

Despite the fact that Aquaman was throwing a lot of story and special effects at me, I was waiting for it to end. Also, I found the Unintentional Hilarity Quotient to be quite high in this film, which meant I was laughing at stuff I was not supposed to be laughing at. I laughed at Aquaman swimming the depths in his jeans and motorcycle boots. I guffawed at the crazy crab creatures, goofy amphibians, and manic sharks battling in the final scenes. But when the Pirate turned up again toward the middle of the film to exact revenge on Aquaman in a hi-tech armored black suit topped by a giant head with glowing red eyes, I lost it. It's Roach Man! No, The Fly! It's a Barbecued Ninja Turtle! A Super-Pissed Power Ranger! Then the character mumbled his name. "He's from Atlanta?" my sister asked. The whole "Black Manta" identity thing got lost in the film's hectic storytelling and we were left in hysterics that totally undercut the intended drama and menace of his appearance.

The teens seated in front of me were clearly annoyed by our giggling, but we couldn't help it. (Side note: The kid in front of me was really pissed by my laughter; when the movie was over I accidentally grazed him in the noggin with my Slurpee cup as I was getting out of my seat. So not only did I insult his flick, I assaulted him as well. I'm lucky he didn't call Security.)

It really doesn't matter what I think of Aquaman. Jason Momoa and Warner Bros. Pictures are laughing all the way to the bank. Meanwhile, I was laughing until tears sprang from my eyes over the spectacle of Black Manta looking like Mothra's Play Cousin LeRoy.

Slightly Less Jolly, But Still A Holiday: "Mary Poppins Returns"

Mary Poppins Returns
Directed by Rob Marshall
starring Emily Blunt, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Ben Whishaw, Emily Mortimer, Colin Firth, Julie Walters, Meryl Streep with cameos by Dick Van Dyke, Angela Lansbury and a walk-on by Karen Dotrice, the original Jane

Recommended? Yes! Fine family fare.

I wish I were a child again, if only to have experienced Mary Poppins Returns with the same sense of awe, wonder, and delight with which I experienced the original Disney Mary Poppins.

I'm afraid that I still adore that 1964 picture, with a tart Julie Andrews as the magical yet no-nonsense nanny in turn-of-the-century England. It had whimsy and pathos, the fantastical mix of animation and live action, an episodic structure, lessons about both capitalism and charity, a touch of history in Mrs. Banks' involvement in the suffragette movement, and the dazzling spectacle of incredible dance numbers. Plus those unforgettable Sherman Brothers tunes that drilled the nonsensical phrases chim-chim-cheree and supercalifragilistic and um-diddle-liddle-liddle-um-diddle-li deep into my brain.

Yes, I wish I hadn't been so profoundly affected by that so I might properly appreciate the sequel, Mary Poppins Returns.

Don't get me wrong -- the new Poppins is delightful. Played with the same stern-but-amused air by Emily Blunt, this Poppins returns some 30 years after the original to marshall the three young children of a grown-up Michael Banks (Ben Whishaw), who is looked after by his loving sister Jane (Emily Mortimer) and an overwhelmed housekeeper Ellen (Julie Walters) after the loss of his wife. The family's foundation is rocked when Michael fails to pay the mortgage and their house on Cherry Tree Lane is about to be foreclosed on by the bank unless Jane and Michael can find the valuable bank share certificates their late father left to them.

The typical Mary Poppins shenanigans begin immediately, as she marches the three kids -- John, Annabel, and Georgie -- into the bathroom for a bath that turns into an eye-dazzling deep sea adventure complete with dolphins, pirates, and giant bubbles. As the children soon discover that their home is in danger, they consider selling a Royal Doulton china bowl their late mother told them was priceless, and a squabble over it leads to yet another adventure, with Poppins and her young lamplighter friend Jack (Lin-Manuel Miranda) whisking the children into the animated world inside the bowl, leading to a major English music hall song and dance by Mary and Jack, followed by a hair-raising ride by the older children, chasing after some animated bandits who attempt to kidnap Georgie and steal the family's possessions. Back in the real world, Mary takes the children and the damaged bowl to visit her cousin Topsy (Meryl Streep), who supposedly can fix anything. Except that Topsy's world has literally turned upside down, and there is a big song and dance number in which Topsy realizes that everything turning around only represents a refreshing new perspective on things.

As the story continues, Mary orchestrates a visit to the Fidelity Fiduciary Bank where Michael works, to coincidentally have the children discover that the bank's new president (Colin Firth) is scheming underhandedly to repossess the Banks' home. All's well that ends well, as Mary joins Jack and his lamplighter friends for a little song and dance to lift the children's spirits, and there is an eleventh-hour miracle that saves the family's home in the end.

The animation is top-notch, the costumes colorful and interesting, and the songs -- churned out by Broadway and movie score veteran Marc Shaiman with lyrics by Scott Whitman -- are sprightly and serviceable. The filmmakers have worked very hard to repeat most of the beats of the original film: Admiral Boom next door still sets off his cannon every hour, disturbing every household; with the vote for women already won, now Jane Banks is deeply entrenched in the British labour movement, going to demonstrations and carrying signs; in the tradition of American Dick Van Dyke's role as a chimney sweep, American Lin-Manuel Miranda steps in to play a lamplighter, replete with awful Cockney accent; and once again, the Banks children experience amazing, otherworldly events that Mary later staunchly denies, including a visit to another magical relative. It's all very cute and very entertaining.

It's just that it's all been done before and done better.

1. The Banks children don't need a nanny, as is pointed out in the film. They seem to manage themselves just fine, even if the youngest, Georgie, is portrayed as a bit rambunctious. And despite having lost their mother, they don't seem especially raw about it. (A small quibble, since Mary makes plain that she really returned to the household to save the children's father, Michael.)

2. Mary Poppins sweeps in and takes over, even though it is clear that Michael Banks cannot pay her any wages. In the first Mary Poppins movie, she is extremely insistent on what she should be paid and when, so this seems out of character.

3. The mix of animation and live action is no longer an anomaly to moviegoers, thanks to digital technology and CGI, so the scenes in the world of the Royal Doulton china bowl don't have the impact that they should. And though the penguins return, they basically make a cameo.

4. Meryl Streep's Topsy character is not as fully fleshed out as it should be. She has a terrible Russian or gypsy accent of some kind, which the Banks kids actually comment on, and it is never explained why her world turns upside down. At least Uncle Albert's ability to rise from the floor was explained as a disease caused by laughter, the antidote for which was to think sad thoughts.

5. I like Lin-Manuel Miranda, he's an incredibly talented person, but I don't think of him as a dancer (I also have not seen Hamilton on stage, so maybe I just don't know). Though he appears in the production number where the lamplighters do their dance, he doesn't have a solo or a spotlighted part in it. The dance was fine, but lacked the snap crackle pop of "Step In Time" from the original. Overall, the Jack character is kind of lackluster, maybe because he isn't romancing Mary. He is barely romancing Jane, though the film seems to think they are a perfect match.

6. Which brings me to another observation: This film is lacking tap-dancing. Like, real old-fashioned hoofing. Jack and Mary do some footwork in their number at the Royal Doulton Hall, but there's no tapping or clogging. In his cameo toward the end of the film, 92-year-old Dick Van Dyke does a couple of steps, which only reminds me of what the flick is missing.

7. The music is pleasant and the songs are fun, but not one of them is catchy. I didn't come out of the theater singing any of them. Part of the problem may be that most of the tunes are stuffed to the gills with lyrics. The setpiece of the Royal Doulton Music Hall scene is a tune called "A Cover Is Not A Book," but the verses fly by so fast and so furiously that it's difficult to grab onto anything. Lin-Manuel has a part in the tune in which he's basically rapping -- which is reminiscent in some ways to Bert's fast-talking paean to all the girls he's known in "It's A Jolly Holiday With Mary" -- but it is hard to decipher what he is saying amid all the music and all the visual spectacle. It's unfortunate that the music, for all its effort to be clever, lacks the hooks a simpler approach could have provided.

8. The bad guy in this movie -- primarily Colin Firth's bank president at Fidelity Fiduciary Bank -- is mean for no reason. Just because ... money, I guess. But the Banks home is hardly a mansion. As the action takes place in the 1930s during "The Great Slump" -- the British version of the Great Depression -- I guess companies were doing anything to gain and keep a buck. Since every movie needs a villain, as it was in the original, it should be the bank.

9. The film wraps up with a scene in the park where the family buys balloons that float them up into the atmosphere, kind of a riff on the "Let's All Fly A Kite" ending of the original. Except in this one, everyone winds up flying around in the clouds. I thought this was confusing, because Mary Poppins wasn't there, she didn't make it happen, and it was happening to everyone in the park who bought a balloon (except evil old Colin Firth). This fantasy -- which included a song by the balloon vendor played by the ever-delightful Angela Lansbury -- was sooooo not needed and kind of broke the rules about magic happening only when Mary was directly involved.

10. As soon as we saw Jane and Michael's old kite being stuck in the trash, didn't we know that the answer to all the family's problems was right there on its patched surface?

Anyway, despite my quibbles, the movie is still good old-fashioned family fun. Your young ones will adore it and sing in grateful chorus, well done, Mary Poppins Returns! The rest of us will just have to take a spoonful of sugar to make this flick go down without wishing for Julie Andrews.

*All photos are screenshots, courtesy ABC/Disney Studios.

Amusing, Astonishing, Sobering: "The Favourite"

The Favourite
directed by Yorgos Lanthimos
starring Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz, Emma Stone

Recommended? Yes. But strictly for adults and Anglophiles.

Power. Everybody wants it. Some sacrifice much to get it, and those who attain it don't seem to hold onto it long. Because this has been true for centuries, driving plots from Macbeth to TV's Scandal, the eternal struggle for power remains a compelling storyline.

The history of the English monarchy is rife with tales of palace intrigue and power plays among those circling the throne. Women have played key roles in history, which has shown that the so-called fairer sex can be just as ruthless, manipulative and calculating as the men, and were often forced to live by their wits during centuries of legally sanctioned male dominance. With a trio of women at its center, The Favourite examines the historical relationship of early 18th century English monarch Queen Anne and her closest friend and advisor, Lady Sarah Churchill, and a young usurper, Abigail Masham.

While The Favourite takes place in England after the reign of King Charles and William and Mary, when fashion dictated elaborate powdered wigs, stick-on beauty marks, high heels and ribbons for men, this is no frilly, stuffy historical drama. Thanks to director Lanthimos, whose sharp sense of the absurd was brought to light in the weird 2015 absurdist drama The Lobster, The Favourite has a decidedly contemporary, and thus often hilarious, view of history. That perspective becomes clearest in a scene where a court dance turns into something more like Dancing With The Stars meets Electric Boogaloo, but in countless other small details, including the characters' language (Sarah refers to a woman's parts as her "vajuju").

Played with a flair for comedy and pathos by Olivia Colman, Queen Anne is something of a pathetic figure. Plagued by illness, confounded by the politics of the country's current war with France, childless after 17 pregnancies, and with a withering temper, Anne is given to fits and fallouts, childish tantrums and illogical pronouncements. Her political affairs and personal welfare are managed by her longtime friend Lady Sarah Churchill (Rachel Weisz), a no-nonsense powerhouse who both coddles and bullies Anne. Their relationship is threatened by the arrival of Abigail (Emma Stone), a distant cousin of Sarah's, a former aristocrat whose family has been taken down by the father's gambling, who is now seeking a position in the queen's household. As it turns out, Abigail is baldly ambitious herself, and after suffering through a few weeks as a scullery maid, she finagles herself into the Queen's chamber and good graces thanks to a facility for herbal healing and personal charm. When she learns that there is still more to Sarah's relationship with Anne -- an illicit love affair -- Abigail immediately plots to get herself between the Queen's sheets.

Sarah issues some veiled threats to Abigail on the shooting range, but once she learns that Abigail has replaced her as the Queen's lover she has her fired from the household. In retaliation, Abigail arranges to have Sarah's tea drugged to get her out of the way, resulting in a brutal riding accident for Sarah. With Sarah gone, Abigail doubles down in her relationship with the Queen, convincing the monarch to approve of her marriage to a willing young nobleman -- despite being of low birth -- and guaranteeing her standing as a lady in the court. When Sarah survives her injuries and returns to court to find Abigail firmly ensconced as Anne's confidante and lady in waiting, she swears revenge while Abigail gloats. But as the camera focuses on Abigail as she responds to Anne's whining request that her aching legs be rubbed, we the audience are reminded of the price of success.

There is more to the story, including some bizarre palace antics that include duck racing and pelting a naked man with fruit; the ambitious scheming of a young parliamentary politician named Robert Harley (Nicholas Hoult); and the Queen's 17 pet rabbits who hop around in her bedchamber. But at its core, this is a story about the path to power and all it entails -- good and bad.

The script offers some whiplash pacing, withering insults, hilarious quips, and -- as mentioned -- a decidedly modern view of history. As such, the film has been compared to Mean Girls, Heathers, All About Eve, and more. Adding to the movie's polish is its incredible cinematography, with wide shots to show off the castle grounds, the richness of its rooms, the costuming, and the English countryside; the intricate costumes, including breeches for Lady Sarah for riding and shooting, an elaborate set of braces for the Queen so she can sit upright on a horse, and of course the foppery of the male courtiers; and its music, which is an evocative and often foreboding score mined from classical themes. And while all three actresses are brilliant -- Weisz and Stone are already Oscar winners -- Coleman is an absolute standout for her portrayal of Anne.

The Favourite is a beautiful, strange, amusing and ultimately cautionary tale.

Thoughts on "Baby It's Cold Outside": Let It Go, Let It Go, Let It Go

"Baby It's Cold Outside"
written by Frank Loesser, 1944



These are expanded comments I made about the song during the opening of the Dec. 6 "Words On Flicks" podcast.

There is a current controversy going on about the age-old ditty "Baby It's Cold Outside," a song associated with winter and the holidays because of its references to frosty weather. Many radio stations have decided to pull the song from their holiday broadcast playlists because of complaints that it condones date rape and is triggering to victims of sexual abuse. Others say, Get over it -- it's just a song. I can see both sides of this debate.

CBS This Morning's Gail King spoke out on the program Wednesday defending the song, as have many other newspaper opinion pieces, while the daughter of its writer, Frank Loesser, blamed the kerfuffle on convicted sexual predator Bill Cosby, whose habit of drugging victims brought new attention to the line "say, what's in this drink?"

Why it's pertinent to Words On Flicks is because "Baby It's Cold Outside" was popularized when it appeared in a movie, the 1949 romantic-comedy-with-music cream puff Neptune's Daughter. Starring the then-popular mermaid Esther Williams, an expert swimmer who inspired MGM to build giant tanks and stage elaborate water ballets around her, Neptune's Daughter is a fluffy mistaken-identity comedy with Ricardo Montalban as a smooth, polo-playing Latin lover.

The song "Baby It's Cold Outside" pops up as Montalban's character tries to convince Williams to stay a little longer for romance on a cold night. It's a cute and very clever duet about the cat and mouse romantic flirtation between a man and a woman. During the time it was written, the 1940s, it was a scandal for a woman to spend the whole night with a man, her "reputation" would be ruined. Men who wanted more than a few kisses or casual petting had to ramp up their persuasive techniques to get what they wanted. Women were supposed to draw the line at having sex unless there was a wedding first, or at least a ring on her finger.

According to the alternating lines of the song, the man is doing everything he can not merely to verbally convince but to physically coerce the woman to stay the night. Tp be fair, the movie Neptune's Daughter also shows the song being sung by a woman, Betty Garrett, in the pursuer's role, trying to interest Red Skelton in a romance. So the song shows both sexes as putting pressure on the other, to hilarious effect. But the song is more often heard in the classic style with the man as the aggressor.

If you listen to the whole song, at the end it seems that the woman gives in -- seemingly of her own free will -- or at least she gives up. But in a scenario like this, what could have happened if she said no? If, in fact, she insisted on leaving?

A gentleman would open the door, express regret, and graciously say goodnight. A sexual abuser would lock the door, block all exits, and attack. How do I know? Because it has happened, to me and to many others.

And that is what is triggering about this song for many. These are the same coercive lines and maneuvers that many sexual predators use to trap their targets physically and emotionally so that they cannot escape, and that place of isolation is where they feel emboldened to harass, grope and/or rape. It's all fun and games, lightness and flirtation -- until it isn't. Abusers count on the fact that women expect men to follow the rules of chivalry and courteousness in every situation; it's the benefit-of-the-doubt rule, the innocent-until-proven-guilty rule. Predators use this against victims. Their target often can't tell a good guy from a bad guy until it's too late.

Although the song ends on an upbeat note, with both parties making an informed choice, one could interpret this song as encouragement to men to press their advantage whenever and however and for as long as they can until they get the answer they want and feel entitled to.

"Baby It's Cold Outside" is a song strictly of its time, certainly a more innocent era with stricter societal mores, courtly traditions and lighthearted intent. The trouble is that the song continues to be recorded, year after year, by more contemporary artists. New generations are listening, generations for whom the year 1949 may as well be the Pleistocene Era and Esther Williams doesn't spark any glimmer of recognition, generations for whom the idea of a mother waiting by the door or a maiden aunt spreading gossip (as it says in the song) is laughable. The original intent and source of the song is lost, and all that is left are its words -- which today's listeners take on face value. And just as we know better now on other issues -- blackface and minstrelsy, stereotyping, gay bashing -- we should do better by letting questionable Hollywood fare fade into the background. To riff on another popular holiday weather tune: Let it go, let it go, let it go.

If radio stations are responding to the needs of listeners by taking this antiquated song off the air, I think that's a responsible response. And if there are people who can listen to "Baby It's Cold Outside" and hear only a playful teasing exchange between equals who are already fond of each other, then that's great too.

But I don't think those who find no problem with the song should shame or dismiss the concerns of those who do. That's just another way the very real experiences and concerns of #MeToo victims get pushed into the cold outside.

Thoughts on "Green Book": Dueling Tropes & Hijacked History, Well Executed

Green Book
directed by Peter Farrelly

These are expanded, but essentially the same comments I made about the film during the opening of Nov. 29's "Words On Flicks" podcast.

Over the Thanksgiving weekend I saw the Peter Farrelly-directed movie Green Book, starring Viggo Mortenson as Tony "Lip" Vallelonga, who finds himself employed as a driver by Mahershala Ali's Dr. Don Shirley, a noted concert pianist, on a tour through the deep south in 1960, four years before the Civil Rights Act was passed. The film is based on Vallelonga's reminiscences of their true-life friendship; however, the family of the late Don Shirley vehemently disputes its details.

Though Green Book has gotten mostly good reviews, its controversies made me a bit trepidatious about the movie before going in. I'm sure you've heard them, but I'll reiterate here:

First, the title hijacks history.

I would have preferred that a movie with this title be much more directly related to the history of this pivotal guidebook. "The Negro Motorist Green Book" was an actual publication used by African Americans during road trips across America, and particularly in the south, during segregation and Jim Crow. An African American mailman named Victor Hugo Green from New York City came up with the idea for the book in an attempt to make road travel safer for black people, and originally published it only in the NYC metro area until demand made it national.

It was published for 30 years, from 1936 to 1966. It was, unfortunately, much-needed. Though black folks were purchasing cars so they wouldn’t have to face discrimination on public transportation, they were still subjected to humiliations in terms of where they could stop, get gas, eat, get a hotel room, or even go to the bathroom – which is shown in the film. (I saw the movie Ragtime again recently, and the major conflict of the story turns on the vandalization of an automobile owned by a black piano player (Howard Rollins) by a group of white volunteer firemen in the early 1900s.)

Though Hollywood has attempted from time to time to tackle stories about key events in black history, too often the main character is a white person and the story is told through their perspective. And so it is with Green Book, a key piece of African American history reduced to an incidental part of the narrative.

Because of this history, titling the movie Green Book is misleading, as it is the story of an initially racist white man's view of one exceptional (magical) black man. Said white man has limited experience with the Green Book, makes offhand comments about its existence, and never questions its necessity with his passenger. However briefly, the Green Book itself, which is only shown a couple of times in the film that I can remember, is a symbol for the disparity between the lives of the two men. One white, with limited education, scuffling to make ends meet, but who can freely go anywhere, and the other, a multilingual, multitalented, educated black man who faces discrimination everywhere.

1 Magical Negro + 1 White Savior = ?
Secondly, the film has been criticized for being part of a long tradition in Hollywood of movies about Magical Negroes and White Saviors. (sorry if these terms offend people).

In movies about Magical Negroes, a black character selflessly helps a white person with aspects of their life out of the goodness of their hearts. Movies like The Green Mile where falsely imprisoned Michael Clarke Duncan can literally make magical miracles for everybody on Death Row but can't get himself out of prison. I saw the film once and while many people adore it, I can't stomach it. Or The Legend of Bagger Vance with Will Smith as a wise and mystical caddy to struggling golfer Matt Damon.

White Savior movies include many narratives about people of color whose circumstances can only improve by having a white person swoop in and rescue them: Avatar, The Blind Side, The Help, Dances with Wolves, Conrack, etc. "If you've been to the movies in the last half-century, you know the White Savior genre well," notes writer David Sirota in a 2013 Salon piece. "It's the catalog of films that features white people single-handedly rescuing people of color from their plight. These story lines insinuate that people of color have no ability to rescue themselves. This both makes white audiences feel good about themselves by portraying them as benevolent messiahs (rather than hegemonic conquerors), and also depicts people of color as helpless weaklings -- all while wrapping such tripe in the cinematic argot of liberation." In other words, whether ethnic tribespeople, urban dwellers, or inner-city students, these folks cannot help themselves. While many of these films are intended to show cross-cultural acceptance, what they actually portray is that only the superior ingenuity and resourcefulness of a white person -- abetted by white privilege -- can fix the problems of people of color.

In Green Book, these two tropes of Magical Negro Meets White Savior coexist -- but do they cancel each other out? Tony Lip is the White Savior: hired to be Dr. Shirley’s driver and muscle, to literally save him from any danger, but in this story Tony feels he has to teach Dr. Shirley how to be black, i.e. teaching him how to eat fried chicken, how to identify Chubby Checker and Aretha Franklin songs -- even how to throw trash onto the highway.

Meanwhile, Dr. Shirley is a Magical Negro – an amazing and highly trained pianist, able to speak multiple languages (including the Italian Tony thinks he doesn’t understand), a sensitive writer who helps Tony compose lush love letters to his wife, and ultimately – if this film is to be believed – helping Tony overcome his innate racism. Dr. Shirley's string players help Tony see that the pianist's tour through the South is not just a musical exchange, it is a crusade of courage against long-embedded racial hatred. He is not only an exceptional person of color, he's an exceptional person of ANY color. Unfortunately, movies about exceptional people of color perpetrate the idea that they are somehow not really a member of that race and exist in a universe unto themselves.

The Racialized Awkward Road Trip Movie
But movie tropes aside, I couldn't help but like the film. It falls easily into other much-beloved movie types -- the buddy film and the road picture combined, where two opposite numbers slowly come to grudging respect for the other over the course of the forced trip. As such, Green Book provides two juicy roles for these actors to dig into, and Viggo and Mahershala are fantastic. My resistance to the racial tropes of the movie began to fade in the face of their lived-in performances. I believed the situations and their growing relationship as the road trip progressed. Dr. Shirley's personal struggles in the face of racism and loneliness were palpable, thanks to Mahershala's regal portrayal; I couldn't stop thinking about the lithe, swashbuckling version of Viggo in The Lord of the Rings trilogy of a decade ago as compared to his embodiment of this beer-bellied Bronx bouncer. There was much about their journey via car across the country that felt true in both its beauty and its ugliness.

Green Book is a film with a flawed premise that is nonetheless well-executed. Your reaction to it will no doubt be related to how well you can swallow down another major movie about black history from the perspective of a non-black protagonist.

The Music Grounds It
The film has a strong sense of place and time about it – you really feel that you are back in 1960. One of the strongest elements that made the film feel so rooted in its time period is the music. Mahershala does a great job at tickling the ivories (or at least appearing to), performing unique arrangements of popular tunes like "Tea for Two" or "Happy Talk" (from South Pacific). But it’s the incidental music with great tracks from a range of artists that helped bring the flick alive, from Little Richard, Aretha Franklin and Chubby Checker to "One Mint Julep" by the Clovers, Professor Longhair’s "Go to the Mardi Gras," and many classic Christmas recordings. Toward the end of the film, when the duo are headed back to New York City, a track that I’d never heard before was played: called “Goodbye, My Lover, Goodbye” by Robert Mosely, that I instantly fell in love with and can't get out of my head. The soundtrack also has a version of the real Don Shirley playing “The Lonesome Road,” which I believe is played over the end credits.

Listen to this clip of the real Don Shirley performing "Lullaby of Birdland" and you will get a glimmer of how astounding a musician he actually was. Though the images are not of Shirley, it's the performance (starts classical, shifts to jazz) that wows.


What did you think of Green Book? Leave a comment below. And don't forget to subscribe for notifications when a new blog is posted.

Can't Fight The Feeling: A Cynic's Valentine Flick List

Valentine's Day is almost here, and I thought that despite my usual disdain for the holiday, I could admit to having a few more romantic movie favorites (see previous post for the Black History Month edition). This is not a complete list, just more that came to mind.

1. Love Actually (2003)

Those who know my aversion to lovey-dovey film pablum may be surprised by my affection for this one. Somehow the film's anthology of romantic kerfuffles is improved by its British accent. A fat valentine of a movie, Love Actually weaves together several plotlines to demonstrate that love of all kinds is truly all around us. It zeroes in on guests at the wedding of Juliet (Keira Knightley) & Peter (Chiwetel Ejiofor), including four siblings: Emma Thompson, a stay-at-home mom who finds evidence that her ad exec husband, played by the late Alan Rickman, is having an affair with his sexy secretary, while his office mate, American Laura Linney, puts love with the art director on the back burner to care for her

mentally ill sibling; brother Hugh Grant, England's newly elected bachelor prime minister, finds himself attracted to his bubbly new household manager; brother Liam Neeson, still grieving his wife's death, helps his young stepson capture the heart of an American classmate and re-ignites his joie de vivre; brother Colin Firth, after discovering his girlfriend cheating, decamps to Provence to write his next book and falls for the Portuguese housekeeper who speaks no English.

Dad: Aren't you a little young to fall in love? (Hee hee hee...) Son: No. (Dummy.)

Meanwhile, a couple of young actor body doubles (including The Hobbit's Martin Freeman) meet on-set while simulating a graphic sex scene and proceed to have a conventional romance; a loveless dork heads to America with unrealistic dreams of finding sexual fulfillment abroad that miraculously come true the moment he lands; new bride Juliet (Knightley) is perplexed by the unfriendly behavior of her groom's best man until he reveals his own love for her; and an aging rock star on the comeback trail, played to the raucous hilt by Bill Nighy, realizes that his favorite person in the world is actually his long-suffering manager.

It's a sweet, comical, yet thoughtful film with numerous "that would never happen in real life" moments of coincidence, melodrama and wishful thinking, but somehow the film floats on a sea of its own charm and conviction. And there are some serious moments delivered expertly by the top-notch cast, with tear-inducing performances by the heartsick Thompson, the conflicted Rickman, the lovelorn Linney, and by young Thomas Sangster as Neeson's son. Being British, the script can't help but take swipes at arrogant, entitled America through scenes with Billy Bob Thornton as a sneering U.S. President, but Americans will just have to let the medicine go down amid all the sugar. Set at Christmastime with gorgeous shots of a wintry, holiday-spangled London, Love, Actually has become one of my faves for holiday viewing as well.

2. The Bridges of Madison County (1995)

I am ashamed of myself for this one, but if I see it anywhere on cable, I have to watch to the bitter end. It was a ridiculously sappy, self-indulgent book, and the film would be a snore-worthy slog if not for one thing: Meryl Streep's performance. She plays an Italian war bride in 1965 whose husband and teen children go to the Iowa state fair for a week, leaving her blissfully alone. By chance she meets a recently arrived National Geographic photographer, played by Clint Eastwood, assigned to shoot the local covered bridges. Fascinated by his freewheeling lifestyle and expansive philosophy, sheltered Francesca can't help but fall in love. After a whirlwind affair of evening walks, candlelit dinners, dancing, and lovemaking, Francesca must make a heart-rending decision: leave for a nomadic life of passion with Robert Kincaid, or stay on the farm for a life of duty with the husband and children who need her.

Eastwood is a bit wooden in this role, but perhaps he wasn't as concerned with acting as he was busy directing this lushly photographed, beautifully staged drama featuring an evocative soundtrack of composed music and classic jazz gems (the Johnny Hartman tunes alone are swoon-worthy). It's Meryl Streep's movie, and the Queen of All Accents gets it exactly right. With her hair dyed dark, aproned and barefooted, utilizing European hand gestures, faded Italian accent in place, Streep gives us a woman stoically living with decisions made a long time before with no expectation of change. The dialog doesn't delve into her character's background, but during World War II, living in a country occupied by the U.S. army, Francesca married an

American serviceman in exchange for what she believed would be a better life. She left her home, family, friends, and everything she knew to live in a brand new land to learn a new language and new customs, adjust to marriage to a foreign man, bear his children and work his farm. She was likely resigned to this life, and may have thrived in it, until boom! A beautiful stranger lands on the doorstep reeking of romance and excitement. All of this information lives within Streep's calibrated portrayal, which owes more than a bit to the mannerisms of Italian actress Anna Magnani, a towering inferno of '50s-'60s screen acting (see Wild Is The Wind, The Fugitive Kind, or The Rose Tattoo).

The moment I wait to see is when Francesca has packed a bag but still can't take the final step out the door. She clutches Robert in desperation and says, "You must decide for me." Well, she realizes that leaving would be folly and stays. But the next riveting moment comes in town when grocery shopping with her husband, and she sees Robert's truck about to leave forever. The pouring rain stands in for a torrent of inward tears -- hers and ours -- as Francesca has one last inward struggle. Still, she can't leave. But when Robert hangs the silver saint's medal she gave him from his rearview mirror before driving off, Francesca and the audience know that their love will never be forgotten.

The film has a framing device involving her grown children discovering the affair after her death that could easily have been jettisoned, and for some the movie is too long and slow. But for me, this leisurely stroll under the sun of an Iowa summer watching Meryl and Clint is sweet, indeed.

3. Moonrise Kingdom (2013)

And they called it puppy love, just because we're in our teens ...

I grew up fascinated by fairy tales, with their images of enchanted lands, mythological beings, and the impossible made possible through a glorious quest. Having once been a precocious, independent kid, I'm still partial to stories about precocious, independent kids. Thus my nostalgic fondness for Wes Anderson films: the highly stylized children's storybook sets, costumes, makeup, and shot framing; serious, quirky, wise-beyond-their-years youngsters facing off against ridiculous, childlike adults; and the whimsical, episodic adventures to attain love or liberty (Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Grand Budapest Hotel). Moonrise Kingdom has all of these things. It's a coming of age love story along the lines of the delightful 1979 gem A Little Romance (in which 13-year-old Diane Lane falls in love and runs away from Paris with the 13-year-old son of a French taxi driver to kiss under the Bridge of Sighs in Venice), albeit with a serio-comic tone. Set in a 1965 that is worlds away from The Bridges Of Madison County, the film is like flipping through an album of faded Kodak vacation prints -- all smudged blues, browns, and greens, filmy corals and soft whites. The story concerns a smart but friendless orphan named Sam who meets Suzy, an introverted bookworm, at the annual summer pageant on the fictitious New England island of New Penzance.

After months of exchanging letters, the 12-year-olds meet the following summer on the island and run off together. The disappearance of the youngsters alarms the island's sherriff, played by Bruce Willis, as well as Sam's tightlipped social worker Tilda Swinton, his by-the-book scoutmaster Edward Norton, and his hooligan fellow scouts, not to mention Suzy's self-absorbed lawyer parents, played by Frances McDormand (who's been having an affair with the Willis character) and Anderson habitue Bill Murray. Sam, an expert outdoor survivalist, and Suzy, armed with sewing scissors, manage to evade a group of scouts and their dog after a violent run-in.

The eccentric pubescents then have a few idyllic days sharing first kisses, cavorting in their undies, and spooning in a tent by a lagoon in perfect domestic and spiritual harmony before they are discovered and pulled apart by the adults. But it isn't long before Sam escapes his scoutmaster to rescue Suzy and seal their love with a symbolic marriage ceremony performed by a supportive scout captain (Jason Schwartzman) just before a hurricane strikes the island, foiling their getaway plan.
The core of the film is the natural, earnest performances Anderson elicits from young actors Kayra Hayward and Jared Gilman; while the action around them grows increasingly cartoonish and frenetic, the film never mocks nor questions the veracity of Sam and Suzy's feelings, despite their tender age. And neither do Sam and Suzy engage in sugary sentiments or cute banter; they simply interact as kindred spirits who commit their entire beings to each other, come what may. In the end, all of the adults -- including the audience -- are forced to accept Sam and Suzy's forever love as an incontrovertible fact. Director Anderson's style has been criticized as too precious or "twee," but it's still an enchanting and deeply romantic romp.

Honorary mentions to:
1. About Last Night (the 1986 Demi Moore/Rob Lowe original)
2. The Getaway (the 1972 Ali McGraw/Steve McQueen love-on-the-run original)
3. Dr. Zhivago (1965 Russian Revolution-set epic with Julie Christie & Omar Sharif)
4. Annie Hall (1977 Woody Allen & Diane Keaton classic)
5. Out Of Sight (1993 crime caper with heat from Jennifer Lopez & George Clooney)
6. An Officer & A Gentleman (1982, Debra Winger/Richard Gere)
7. Roxanne (yes, the 1987 Steve Martin/Daryl Hannah comedy is highly romantic)
8. True Romance (1993, Tarantino's love-on-the-run fantasia with Patricia Arquette & Christian Slater)