The Schleicher Spin

As I write this, the details are sketchy, but it’s been confirmed that Oscar-winning film director Anthony Minghella has died at the age of 54.  At the turn of the millennium, Minghella was the go-to man for star-studded, moderately budgeted, profit-making, literary minded prestige films. 

In 1996, he achieved his greatest success with his film adaptation of Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient.  The film will always hold a special place in my memory.  As a junior in high school, it was the first film I saw at the Ritz Theater in Voorhees, NJ, which at the time had just opened as the premier art-house venue in the Philadelphia suburbs.  Combining the epic styling of David Lean with the gritty sensuality of Bernardo Bertolucci, The English Patient left an indelible mark and won 9 Oscars including Best Picture and Best Director for Minghella.  1996 was considered the year of the independent film with the neo-classic Coen Brothers’ film Fargo and Mike Leigh’s insightful Secrets & Lies among those films competing with Minghella’s period piece.  The English Patient was the crowning jewel of that independent Hollywood mindset that was rallying against big budgets and small minds.  It represented the pinnacle of Miramax Studio’s prowess as the premier prestige film distributor, and it launched Minghella onto the A-list.  The film so infected the pop culture upon its release, that it was ironically immortalized as the film Elaine Bennis from Seinfeld will always hate.  She would’ve rather seen Sack Lunch! 

In 1999, Minghella delivered his adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s novel, The Talented Mr. Ripley, which featured some of the hottest young actors and actresses of the moment (Matt Damon, Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, Cate Blanchett, and then relatively unknown Philip Seymour Hoffman).  The studio marketed the film as a classy, picturesque, throwback to the heyday of Hitchcock’s stylized VistaVision thrillers.  Knowing nothing of the literary source material and fooled by the clever marketing and rave reviews, I went to see the film with my mother at Christmastime while home from college.  About thirty minutes into the picture when we realized this was no lightweight Hitchcock homage, but instead a psychosexual thriller about a homosexual serial killer, it made for the most uncomfortable movie-going experience of my life.  Again, defying our expectations, and making his audience squirm, Minghella left his mark.

In 2003, Minghella tackled Charles Frazier’s ridiculously successful novel, Cold Mountain.  While the vapid romance at the film’s core and the often vulgar episodic odyssey of Jude Law’s character left many wishing for more restraint, the film is still memorable for some of the most well staged Civil War battle scenes ever captured on film and Renee Zelwegger’s Oscar-winning supporting turn as a fast-talking migrant farm-hand from Texas who befriends Nicole Kidman’s character.

Minghella will always be remembered for this trilogy of high profile literary film adaptations, but he also excelled with smaller films.  His 1990 feature debut, Truly Madly Deeply, featuring Alan Rickman as a dead musician who sticks around to comfort his grieving girlfriend, has developed a rather rabid cult following over the years.  His most recent film, 2006’s Breaking and Entering, in which he reunited with muse Juliette Binoche (whom he directed to an Oscar win in The English Patient) and Jude Law, barely registered as a blip at the box office last winter, but you can be sure it will be added to my Netflix queue now.

Many have dismissed Minghella’s style as overwrought and his successes overrated.  I’ll always remember him as one of the directors who most influenced my movie-going habits during my formative years as a film buff.  Minghella was a director of refined tastes and impeccable staging.  He was quite adept at making heavy-handed techniques seem naturalistic on screen and was never afraid to challenge an audience.  His style of direction has fallen out of favor recently in Hollywood.  Just look at how hard the recent Atonement (a film that owes a world of debt to The English Patient and even featured a winking cameo of Minghella) had to work to eek out its respectable $50 million dollar domestic gross and gain that coveted Best Picture nomination.  It will be directors like Atonement’s Joe Wright who will carry on Minghella’s legacy.  Minghella in 2008 seemed poised for his next evolution as a director and was talented enough to stage a comeback.  At age 54, he is gone too soon, and will be greatly missed.

Written by David H. Schleicher

 **This was a post in progress. 

 Weekly updates appeared as each episode of John Adams aired Sunday nights on HBO.   

And remember, faithful viewers, Samuel Adams White Ale is the (un)official beer of HBO’s John Adams.  Real Patriots Drink Samuel Adams.

________________________________________________________________

*Above: Political Propaganda circa 1776.

PREVIEW: 

Ever since the demise of The Sopranos and Rome, the only thing even remotely worth watching on HBO (or on TV in general) has been the Mormon soap opera, Big Love.  Well, thankfully, the good folks at HBO have got their wits about them once again and will be unveiling the first two parts of their epic 7-part miniseries, John Adams this Sunday, March 16th. 

Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning book by David McCullough, HBO’s John Adams will attempt to take the same intimate look at history that made the two-part Elizabeth I starring Helen Mirren and, like John Adams, directed by Tom Hooper, such a roaring success, while painting historical events across a sprawling gritty epic canvas like they did with the decadent Rome (which was essentially a 22-part miniseries) in hopes of bringing the past frightfully alive. 

Loaded with a cast of award-winning character actors and familiar faces (check out Danny Huston as Sam Adams, David Morse as George Washington, and Tom Wilkinson as Ben Franklin), and headlined by Paul Giamatti and Laura Linney as John and Abigail Adams, HBO will give us a glimpse into the events leading up to the American Revolution and the first 50 years of American history.   For many people, their knowledge of this time period comes only from school textbooks or images from the ridiculous musical 1776 or more recently, the historically inaccurate Mel Gibson vehicle The Patriot.  HBO has taken on the task of educating and entertaining, a dangerous gambit that could pay off in scores. 

Check out the full length trailer:

Official Site:

http://www.hbo.com/films/johnadams/index.html

For a complete list of cast and crew:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0472027/fullcredits

___________________________________________________________________ 

REVIEW: 

After each episode aired over the course of six weeks, I posted a review of each part.

**Part One:  Join or Die (March 16, 2008):  The opening episode featured everything you come to expect from an HBO event.  Great acting and stunning attention to detail and authenticity made the first hour a totally engrossing historical document and a surprisingly disarming legal drama.  Great insight is gained by highlighting the truth surrounding the Boston Massacre and other events leading to the American Revolution and through showcasing John Adams’ family life and relationship to his wife Abigail, which seemed frightfully real and relatable.  Kudos must also go to an unbiased look at the historical events, judging them not with a modern compass, yet still allowing them to mirror current political dilemmas. 

Most chilling performance of the episode: Danny Huston, scary as a Huston, spreading propaganda and spirits as Samuel Adams. 

Most interesting detail: John Hancock might’ve been a bit of a scoundrel.

**Part Two:  Independence (March 16, 2008):  The second part opens with an austere shot of Independence Hall in Philadelphia and closes with a rousing reading of the Declaration which was crafted there.  (Afterwards, I must say, I was disappointed to discover much of the Philadelphia shots were done on soundstages and at Colonial Williamsburg and not at the actual locations, which still exist mostly undisturbed though amidst modern urban clutter and awash in post 9/11 security measures that I imagine keep film crews at bay.)  During the second hour, while Tom Wilkinson showboated as Ben Franklin and Paul Giamatti attempted to upstage him for the best lines, I came to realize one of the joys of watching a story unfold in minseries fashion is that like a great novel, even the most minor of characters are given their moments (like young Charles Adams’ inquisitive bravery), and the slow development allows for great insight into human nature, and in this case, into the common humanity of our often mythologized founding fathers.  The production also seems to revel in the minutiae of the times, like barbaric inoculations against small pox and the best way to make manure.  These small details make for a richly rewarding experience that extends beyond the standard views of early American history and the history of great acting through oration that stems back to the ancient Greeks. 

Most chilling performance of the episode: David Morse, in make-up and costume, looking downright eerie as George Washington, and his line delivery as wooden as a hitching post. 

Most interesting detail:  Like Rome before it, the children of colonial American don’t seem to age naturally as six years span the first two episodes and the Adams’ lot don’t age a day spare the youngest from fetus to tot.

**Part Three:  Don’t Tread on Me (March 23, 2008):  Episode three saw Laura Linney acting in her wheelhouse as the outwardly stoic and inwardly tormented wife/mother while her husband was off in Europe trying to secure foreign aid for America’s war effort.  Despite some slow parts, we still got treated to Master & Commander style action early on, a wonderfully graphic leg sawing scene, and a fantastic depiction of the foppish decadence of Versailles and Paris (that would later bring about their own bloody revolution).

Most chilling performance of the episode:  Laura Linney emoting on all cylinders.

Most interesting detail(s):  The French have always been bastards, John Adams was the first arrogant American diplomat, and Holland is mired by flies in the summer.

**Part Four: Reunion (March 30, 2008):  After receiving news of America’s victory over Britain and securing a loan from the Dutch, John Adams sends for Abigail to join him in France with a bawdy Ben Franklin and an overly philosophical Thomas Jefferson.  After the insult of being sent to London as the first ambassador, John Adams and his wife finally come home to be reunited with their children (now grown and finally recast).  Nothing too exciting happens here, though the oddness of King George comes shining through in a brief moment of courtly bizarreness during Adams’ official introduction, and the use of Handel’s Sarabande (most notably utilized in the opening and closing credits of Stanley Kubrick’s oft overlooked masterpiece Barry Lyndon) was sublime.  Later, George Washington is elected the first president, and John Adams plays second fiddle as the first vice president.

Strangest performance(s):  Once a precocious child and slow brewed with resentment over his father’s long absence, Charles Adams has grown into a drunk and is now played in near comical one-note fashion.  As a young man, future president John Quincy Adams is played as a spineless scholar lost inside his own head.  Meanwhile, David Morse still scares the crap out of me as George Washington (just watch him enter the room in that inauguration scene where John Adams is still fumbling at the podium).

Most interesting detail:  George Washington ad-libbed the “so help me God” part at the first inauguration.

**Part Five: Unite or Die (April 6, 2008):  Again utilizing some of the same classical pieces as were used in Barry Lyndon, the opening moments of episode five sucked me right into the political quagmire of early America.  It was especially interesting to see the formation of the nation’s first political parties (Federalists and Republicans), the inner workings of the early Cabinet and Senate under Washington, and Adams’ election to President (which, quick, someone check the history books, has to have been by the smallest margin in Electoral College history).  While the depiction of John and Abigail Adams’ marriage continues to be bread and butter for Paul Giamatti and Laura Linney, the representation of John Adams’ relationship to his grown children has devolved into soap opera style melodrama (which is a shame considering how realistically his family life was depicted in the early episodes).  Still, part five ended with John Adams’ fascinating speech after his inauguration that honored the precedent set by Washington on how a President should act while solidifying Adams’ stance as a man who wished to honor his country by upholding the rule of law first and foremost.

Most chilling performance:  Finally arriving on scene, Rufus Sewell was all pomp and ambition as Alexander Hamilton.  Having recently watched a documentary on Hamilton, it is once again clear this was an often misunderstood man who has long deserved a worthy biopic of his own.  Hollywood, what are you waiting for?

Most interesting detail:  Both Washington and Adams had lots of teeth problems in their later ages.

**Part Six:  Unnecessary War (April 13, 2008):  Much of the political drama involving Hamilton creating the first nationalized army, potential war with France (stopped by Napoleon’s rise to power), and Adams’ alienation of his own party (which led to him becoming the first one term president) had me mildly confused as so much of it seemed glossed over.  Or maybe the lousy sound design in this episode simply cloaked much of what was being said making it hard to understand what was going on.  And despite the best efforts of Laura Linney, many of the scenes involving the slow death of Charles Adams played like a bad Dickens’ story.  However, there were some truly amazing sequences involving Adams inhabiting what would later become the White House while it was still under construction, and I’ll never tire of that Schubert piece on the soundtrack.  There were also some amusing readings of the type of mud-slinging political propoganda that permeated the era in the style of formal letters.

Most interesting detail:  John Adams left the “White House” in what was the horse-and-buggy equivalent of a public bus.

**Part Seven:  Peacefield (April 20, 2008).  Despite the muddled melodrama and politics of the middle acts, the miniseries came to a satisfying conclusion.  Haunting and elegiac cinematography highlight the final entry where we find John Adams pondering his life, legacy, and the future of the nation while spending his final days on his New England farmland.   Sarah Polley finally gets to act as her character succumbs to breast cancer.  Later, we see John Quincy elected the sixth President of these Unites States.  Surely those in the makeup department deserve all the credit in the world as we watch these characters we have come to know so well enter the later years of decrepitude.  While the script wisely populates itself with wondrous quotes and food for contemporary thought, one is left to wonder if the reconciliation through letters between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson and their ultimate deaths both on the 50th anniversary of July 4th weren’t acts of some kind of Divine Providence.  What we’re left with in the modern era is a portrait of the Founding Fathers that paints them as real people, and a reminder that in the grand scheme of humankind, the American Revolution is still relatively recent history.

Most chilling performance of the episode:  Sarah Polley, like a ghost before us, withering away with all the fortitude of a saint.

Most interesting detail:  In 1803, mastectomies were performed without anesthesia!  Sadly, today the only progress against breast cancer seems to be the ability to put people to sleep and numb the pain.

Written by David H. Schleicher

CAPTION: Saffron Burrows tells police, ”Why, no, officer, I’m not smuggling anything in my cheek bones.” 

I’ll Throw a Brick at You!, 11 March 2008

Author: David H. Schleicher from New Jersey, USA

Sold to the American public as another D-level action pic staring Jason Statham, “The Bank Job” is actually a crafty British heist flick based on an incredible true story. The screenwriters deserve credit for creating a serviceable script with so many intertwining stories based on little actual evidence, conjecture, here-say, and conspiracy theories revolving around royal and political sex scandals, militant Caribbean drug lords, undercover MI5 agents, bumbling crooks, crooked cops, and double-crosses and cover-ups. It could’ve easily been a confusing mess, but providing the viewer pays attention, “The Bank Job” gets the job done as crackerjack entertainment.

Though aptly directed by veteran Roger Donaldson, the film does suffer from an overly salacious opening ten minutes designed to grab the audience’s attention, some shoddy editing, and an intrusively bad action-style music score. There’s also an attention to 1970’s period detail in the dialogue and clothes that comes across as caricature and adds an accidentally humorous undertone to the otherwise cold-as-ice affair. However, the details of the “truth is stranger than fiction” tale and the fun had by the ensemble cast make for a breezy way to spend a few hours.

Donaldson also has an eye for the ladies. Led by a smashingly gorgeous Saffron Burrows (looking like a European version of Michelle Pfeiffer circa 1992), the powerful women depicted in “The Bank Job” are far more than just eye candy. Statham is also fairly good as the head of the bank robbing crew, and when he finally throws a brick at a guy near the end of the film, it will put a smile on any action fan’s face.

Things get tidied up a bit too nicely in the end, where it seems only the really villainous characters have to face justice, but before the credits role, there are a series of real-life epilogued details plastered on the screen that make the viewer realize maybe this all really did happen. Now that’s a jolly good show.

Originally Published on the Internet Movie Database:

http://imdb.com/title/tt0200465/usercomments-25

CAPTION:  Man dies from boredom on Dublin’s Ha’Penny Bridge while reading a very long novel.  *Photo courtesy of  Philip Pankov (www.philpankov.com) and www.thenocturnes.com.

Kurt Vonnegut once said of novels that “reading one is like being married forever to somebody nobody else knows or cares about.”

I couldn’t agree more while I find myself in a laborious relationship with The Poe Shadow by Matthew Pearl.  The novel is a fictionalized account of a Baltimore lawyer’s quest to solve the mystery behind the death of Edgar Allan Poe.  This is one of those books with an interesting concept ruined by the author’s insistence on telling the story in the static, unimaginative style of prose from the stuffy time period in which the novel takes place.  It’s makes for a dry, boring read.  Much like Caleb Carr’s The Alienist, I fear I may never finish it.  I’m currently stuck at about the 100 page mark.  I should’ve known better when I saw Carr’s glowingly positive blurb splattered on the cover of Matthew Pearl’s magnum opus.  Though I find the topic of Poe’s death fascinating, reading Pearl’s novel makes me feel…well, dead.

And that brings us to James Joyce and “The Dead.”  Thankfully for every bad novel I torture myself with, there are dozens of short stories I can read in between chapters that are as Vonnegut once described, “Buddhist catnaps.”  Short stories provide perfect little meditative escapes from everyday life and respite from bad novels.  Occasionally, I come across one that reaches the level of art.  James Joyce’s “The Dead” is one such story.  It’s possibly the greatest short story I have ever read.  Its only rivals in my mind would be “The Basement Room” (known in some circles as “The Fallen Idol”) by Graham Greene and two short stories about the same family that I think are inseparable, “Two Soldiers” and “Shall Not Perish” by William Faulkner.

Originally published in 1914, James Joyce’s short story collection, Dubliners, is considered by many to be one of the greatest collections of the form in the English language.  I was given an edition of the collection as a gift this past holiday season and recently finished reading it.  Reprinted by 1st World Library (www.1stworldlibrary.org), the edition I was presented is indicative of the modern troubles plaguing the publishing world as they try to keep up with technology and the “instant availability” our culture currently demands.  It’s printed with odd spacing and typeface and riddled with typos I know were not present in the original editions.  It’s as if this publishing company (which has nobly taken to task the reprinting and distribution of many classic pieces of literature which are currently in the public domain) hired an illiterate data entry clerk to sit there with the original copies of the works and retype everything word for word into a portable file for print-on-demand technology.  I definitely recommend picking up an older edition (I believe Penguin Classics still has one in print) if you are to explore Dubliners in the future.  Still, even with these quirks of this particular edition, James Joyce’s amazing prose shines through.  While each in the collection is worthy of merit,  the closing tome, “The Dead”, emerges as an unflinching masterpiece and an iconic example of the power of the short story form that is still accessible to modern readers.

Taking place over the course of a single evening dedicated to the annual Christmas-time dance of the spinster Morkan sisters, Joyce’s “The Dead” begins like a Robert Altman-esque mosaic character piece examining the different types of people inhabiting Dublin at the turn of the 20th century (my favorite being the drunken Freddy Malins).  Joyce’s focus eventually turns sharply on Gabriel Conroy, who becomes struck by the image of his wife, Gretta, standing in a darkened hall gazing up a staircase listening to distant music from another room.  The feelings that well up in Gabriel while intoxicated by this image lead him to inwardly examine his life with Gretta while she outwardly reveals a secret that has been locked inside her for years.  The imagery Joyce creates and the emotions he invokes make “The Dead” a melancholic and meditative exploration of love, family, memory, and death.   The elegiac closing passages describing snow falling on Dublin are as powerful as anything I have ever read.

“The Dead” was made into a film in 1987 staring Angelica Huston as Gretta Conroy.  It was the last film from her legendary director father, John Huston.  It’s also been adapted into an award winning stage play.  I can’t imagine any adaptation or re-imagining comparing to Joyce’s original piece, which will continue to inspire other artists for generations to come.  Joyce’s words, like the snowflakes, will be heard forever, “falling faintly through the universe, and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.”

*The above painting of by Elsie Sheridan (www.elsiesheridan.com) perfectly captures the spirit of those quiet moments that can exist in a city like Dublin and lead writers like James Joyce and characters like Gabriel Conroy to dream and wonder about all that has come before and all that could be still.

For more literary criticism on “The Dead” check out:

http://www.enotes.com/short-story-criticism/dead-joyce-james

To read “The Dead” go here:

http://www.online-literature.com/james_joyce/958/

Written by David H. Schleicher