As a performer being honored, essentially, for her empathy, it’s entirely appropriate for Streep to highlight a performance anathema to her life’s work. In context, she was saying “performers have great power and great responsibility.”
In which I make strained political analogies using food, along with a crystal ball prediction.
Theater is one of the few educational activities that’s measured by the enjoyment of the participants. I want to shift the bar.
The Americans nails its environment, characters, and never-stop plot twists right from the start. [It features] spectacular acting, and the kind of multilayered insight into human relationships more often found in literature than pop entertainment.
The single best performance I watched in 2016 was Sarah’s, but don’t tell her. It wasn’t polished, for god’s sake, but it had an immediacy that knocked me, and lots of other people, off our feet.
The song is so catchy, it makes you root for the guy who won’t take no for an answer. Our cultural norm, constantly reinforced in music and movies, is that a little resistance is good, but real men are persistent and get what they want in the end; furthermore, women like it that way.
The OA is a story about stories, a kind of “nesting doll,” with several narrators of varying unreliability impacting our understanding. It circles back on itself, with visual touchstones that alternately drive home points or upend what we thought we knew.
Robert Zemeckis wisely recognizes that the heist is not the point of the story. The walk itself is beautiful. The creative team pays full homage to that act, and they’ll make you believe it too.
The bottom line: Manages sublime fan service and (surprisingly) moves the characters forward, at last. I thought the legendary “last four words” were perfect closure.
The Richard Rodgers Theatre is not The Cotton Club; its performers should not be similarly cowed. As Garrison Keillor sung in his definitive song about Newt Gingrich: “Artists always have the final say.”