35 Up [1991]
1. The shot of the dog catching the rabbit was included again.
2. For the first time in the series really, death weighs heavily on the subjects. This is what I have to look forward to as I myself approach 35.
3. Is Bruce gay? Will he ever come out?
Thieves Like Us [1974]
1. Shelley Duvall reading McCall’s while lying on the bed in the cabin.
2. The slo-mo ambush. An allusion to Bonnie and Clyde. Except in this case Altman only shows us the outside of the cabin getting shot up, and the body is carried out wrapped up in a quilt. Louise Fletcher hugging Shelley Duvall, holding her back.
3. Moonshine whiskey in the Mason fruit jar.
Parents [1989]
1. The name of the corporation: TOXICO.
2. Was Sandy Dennis just playing drunk when she made this movie, or was she really drunk? In any case, she was fantastic. I love her opening bit of dropping her cigarette onto the floor.
3. The arm sticking out of the garbage disposal.
Bernard and Doris [2007]
1. He says, “I’m just going to adjust your pillow.” He brings her gently forward, as in an embrace, and cradles her. She smiles slightly, peaceful Then he releases her and she lays back against the headboard. She doesn’t say a word. We hear her breathing.
2. The scarf he admires. “It brings out your baby blues.”
3. He unpacks his suitcase and among his clothes are what are undoubtedly two of his most important possessions: framed photographs of Elizabeth Taylor and Peggy Lee.
Learning of Heath Ledger’s death has made me genuinely sad. It was his performance in Brokeback Mountain that really made that film work. The inwardness. It reminded me of Anthony Hopkins in Remains of the Day actually; so withdrawn that every subtlety became monumental, instantly noticeable.
I wonder what motive or what reason they’ll settle on.
Belle de jour [1967]
1. Pigeons on the street when she first approaches the House of Anais.
2. The orange, cut in half, on the tray that Severine brings over to Pierre.
3. The sounds of the cat at the beginning of the funeral ritual.
The Milky Way [1969]
1. He carefully breaks the bundle of twigs in half and then places them on the fire. No, he pushes them into the fire. But he doesn’t burn his hands.
2. Ham in the knapsack.
3. “The whole world is becoming Catholic.”
I feel a little ashamed. Should we actually get those absurd tax “rebates” that Bush & Co. are proposing, I would buy this.
And then give the rest of the money to charity, of course!
Last night I went to the closing night of “Doctor Atomic,” the new John Adams opera at the Lyric. I think I’m still digesting it. I liked it, but not as much as “Nixon in China.” It was a lot more cerebral than I’d been expecting. Rather than being about the men and women who helped to create the atomic bomb it was really more about the burden of mankind willing the atomic bomb into existence. Yeah: heavy.
The other thing that struck me was how, well, unconcerned Adams was with writing melodically, at least compared to “Nixon in China,” which is filled with tunes or snatches of tunes which are actually hummable, even catchy in their own way. “Doctor Atomic” comes off as much more percussive, textural, and fragmented. It has the effect of distancing you. Again, not an accidental choice I’m sure, but it gave me a chilly feeling.
The production itself, by Peter Sellars, was tightly organized, complex, elaborate. Yet somehow it didn’t have the same wonder and vibrancy that the COT “Nixon in China” staging had. Hmm.
I have the feeling that “Doctor Atomic” is really the kind of show that one ponders about for a long time afterwards rather than having an immediate, visceral reaction. Except when it comes to the ending of the opera: the detonation of the bomb. It was really frightening. The audience went completely, utterly silent for thirty seconds after the lights went down. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that in a theater before. That silence.
