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pensnestBeast and I went to see "Into the Woods" this afternoon. It was overall very pretty, and funny in parts—though not as funny as it is on stage—and not too obnoxiously CGI'd, and well enough sung not to be infuriating. I enjoyed Christine Baranski and her two sidekicks stepdaughters, and Chris Pine as Cindy's Prince—synecdochic described his performance as "doing William Shatner doing The Prince" which is exactly and perfectly true. As I was watching I had the echoes of Robert Westenberg in my mind, because although the performances were different, they had the same kind of sensibility about them.
Can't help seeing The Baker as Craig from Doctor Who. Although since they're quite similar characters, that worked okay. I wish they'd had slightly more distinguishable women playing Cinderella and the Baker's Wife—they weren't the same, but it did end up looking as though the Prince had a Type, and I think hegoes for anything with a pulse doesn't. Besides, I adored Joanna Gleason as the Baker's Wife on Broadway. So funny. And the less said about Johnny Depp as the Wolf, the better. Why do people keep putting him in Sondheim musicals? Make them stop!
I suppose Meryl Streep is vastly more famous than Bernadette Peters, but she wasn't half as good a witch. And I'm… unconvinced about having an actual child play Jack. Surely his song, like Red Riding Hood's, is about growing up, and how awkward it is—and thus better suited to an adolescent? Oh well.
Still. Overall, enjoyed it, and thought that the story reduction to get it down to film length was not bad, though it got a little dull towards the end. And the narration—such as it was—did not work for me. I love the caustic narrator of the Broadway production. And, "Some of us don't like the way you've been telling it." More below.
Since I'm on the subject of films, we went to see "The Theory of Everything" last week. I'm now quite interested in reading Jane Hawking's book, to see exactly which events in the film were, hmm, compressed for dramatic effect (I can think of a few candidates). I'm not quite sure how to describe the emotions it roused in me, but it was well worth seeing. Eddie Redmayne managed a convincing job as Stephen Hawking, and in particular convinced me at least of the character's *charm*.
We also watched 'The Tango Lesson' (a film by Sally Potter) on DVD a few days back, a belated look at one of Beast's birthday presents. I had no idea what to expect, but it was beautiful and different and very cool indeed. Lots of fabulous dancing, some weird and vivid imagery, and a leading woman who was middle-aged, intelligent and not prepared to give up her identity to please anyone. I recommend it.
I think we're going to see 'The Imitation Game' tomorrow, and there are other films on the way that look promising, among them 'Testament of Youth' (I read the book as part of my A-Level English course) and, um, 'Sean the Sheep, the Movie'. Seeing trailers on the big screen is definitely the way to get back into the habit of going to the cinema.
I shall probably get the DVD of the Broadway production out some time this week for a re-watch. I *love* this musical. I remember the first time I encountered it was when I had a bunch of people here one Christmas, and spotted that the thing would be broadcast on BBC2 about ten minutes before it started, enough time to get a video into the machine and set the timer. Video, eh? Yes, it was a while ago. The guests left after lunch, I think, and I began to watch the show that evening, and after the opening number re-wound the tape and demanded that my Beast come and watch it with me. It was amazing. (I've seen it live since, a completely different production at the Donmar Warehouse (very tiny little theatre), the cast not as perfect as the Broadway cast, but included a brilliant Northern lass as Red and a highly emotional Sophie Thompson as the Baker's Wife, although I found the Baker himself a bit too doughy, and thought perhaps he'd done too much television to remember how to act on stage.)
The thing is, seeing something on stage has a kind of magic that the movies just don't have. It's a bit like watching old Doctor Who shows, which we have been doing this week. You have to ignore the abysmal sets, terrible special effects and cardboard everythings and just concentrate on the story.
With a musical on stage, you have to do the same. You ignore the constraints of sets and space and you throw your own imagination into what is happening. I remember seeing 'Candide' at the National, and they did the whole show with a set of seven trunks stacked like little Russian dolls one inside the other—which became luggage, horses, camels, a canoe, furniture and so forth—and a rope hanging from the ceiling with a canvas attached to it. The audience saw those trunks as whatever they were supposed to be, at the same time as we were seeing them as props. That's magic.
Movies don't ask you to do that. A movie of 'Into the Woods' won't present you with a plastic cow with a handle in the middle of its back, or a panto-style cow with a different personality in its back legs to the one in the front legs. A movie just gives you a cow, no imagination required. (A gigantic cow, incidentally, which frankly looked a bit too sturdy to be quite as far gone as it ought to have been.) So you don't suspend your disbelief, because you don't need to, and that means you don't get involved with a film the way you get involved with live theatre. At least, not unless it is *spectacularly* good. I don't, anyway.
synecdochic described his performance as "doing William Shatner doing The Prince" which is exactly and perfectly true. As I was watching I had the echoes of Robert Westenberg in my mind, because although the performances were different, they had the same kind of sensibility about them.Can't help seeing The Baker as Craig from Doctor Who. Although since they're quite similar characters, that worked okay. I wish they'd had slightly more distinguishable women playing Cinderella and the Baker's Wife—they weren't the same, but it did end up looking as though the Prince had a Type, and I think he
I suppose Meryl Streep is vastly more famous than Bernadette Peters, but she wasn't half as good a witch. And I'm… unconvinced about having an actual child play Jack. Surely his song, like Red Riding Hood's, is about growing up, and how awkward it is—and thus better suited to an adolescent? Oh well.
Still. Overall, enjoyed it, and thought that the story reduction to get it down to film length was not bad, though it got a little dull towards the end. And the narration—such as it was—did not work for me. I love the caustic narrator of the Broadway production. And, "Some of us don't like the way you've been telling it." More below.
Since I'm on the subject of films, we went to see "The Theory of Everything" last week. I'm now quite interested in reading Jane Hawking's book, to see exactly which events in the film were, hmm, compressed for dramatic effect (I can think of a few candidates). I'm not quite sure how to describe the emotions it roused in me, but it was well worth seeing. Eddie Redmayne managed a convincing job as Stephen Hawking, and in particular convinced me at least of the character's *charm*.
We also watched 'The Tango Lesson' (a film by Sally Potter) on DVD a few days back, a belated look at one of Beast's birthday presents. I had no idea what to expect, but it was beautiful and different and very cool indeed. Lots of fabulous dancing, some weird and vivid imagery, and a leading woman who was middle-aged, intelligent and not prepared to give up her identity to please anyone. I recommend it.
I think we're going to see 'The Imitation Game' tomorrow, and there are other films on the way that look promising, among them 'Testament of Youth' (I read the book as part of my A-Level English course) and, um, 'Sean the Sheep, the Movie'. Seeing trailers on the big screen is definitely the way to get back into the habit of going to the cinema.
I shall probably get the DVD of the Broadway production out some time this week for a re-watch. I *love* this musical. I remember the first time I encountered it was when I had a bunch of people here one Christmas, and spotted that the thing would be broadcast on BBC2 about ten minutes before it started, enough time to get a video into the machine and set the timer. Video, eh? Yes, it was a while ago. The guests left after lunch, I think, and I began to watch the show that evening, and after the opening number re-wound the tape and demanded that my Beast come and watch it with me. It was amazing. (I've seen it live since, a completely different production at the Donmar Warehouse (very tiny little theatre), the cast not as perfect as the Broadway cast, but included a brilliant Northern lass as Red and a highly emotional Sophie Thompson as the Baker's Wife, although I found the Baker himself a bit too doughy, and thought perhaps he'd done too much television to remember how to act on stage.)
The thing is, seeing something on stage has a kind of magic that the movies just don't have. It's a bit like watching old Doctor Who shows, which we have been doing this week. You have to ignore the abysmal sets, terrible special effects and cardboard everythings and just concentrate on the story.
With a musical on stage, you have to do the same. You ignore the constraints of sets and space and you throw your own imagination into what is happening. I remember seeing 'Candide' at the National, and they did the whole show with a set of seven trunks stacked like little Russian dolls one inside the other—which became luggage, horses, camels, a canoe, furniture and so forth—and a rope hanging from the ceiling with a canvas attached to it. The audience saw those trunks as whatever they were supposed to be, at the same time as we were seeing them as props. That's magic.
Movies don't ask you to do that. A movie of 'Into the Woods' won't present you with a plastic cow with a handle in the middle of its back, or a panto-style cow with a different personality in its back legs to the one in the front legs. A movie just gives you a cow, no imagination required. (A gigantic cow, incidentally, which frankly looked a bit too sturdy to be quite as far gone as it ought to have been.) So you don't suspend your disbelief, because you don't need to, and that means you don't get involved with a film the way you get involved with live theatre. At least, not unless it is *spectacularly* good. I don't, anyway.
no subject
Date: 2015-01-13 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-13 04:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-14 07:55 pm (UTC)With a musical on stage, you have to do the same. You ignore the constraints of sets and space and you throw your own imagination into what is happening.
That's a very interesting observation. I've never thought about it before but yes, old Doctor Who very often feel like filmed theater. You have to suspend your disbelief and concentrate on what the story tells you. I wonder if maybe the people who have trouble enjoying old Doctor Who would have the same problem enjoying staged theater?
no subject
Date: 2015-01-15 08:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-18 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-18 12:35 pm (UTC)