Kick-Back Friday: January 2009 Archives
A fine, early example of a character-driven set piece is John Ford's The Lost Patrol (1934). In the Middle Eastern theater of WWI, 11 British soldiers are stranded at a Mesopotamian oasis after their commanding officer is shot and their horses are stolen by unseen Arabs. Desert snipers then serially pick off the men during their various displays of bravery, recklessness, and insanity.
Overacting even by his contemporary standards, Boris Karloff nevertheless cuts a striking figure as a religious fanatic before the movie's climax. The film also features the solidly built Victor McLaglen, who became a staple in Ford's films.
Congratulations to Chicago stage actor Michael Shannon, who received an Academy Award nomination this week for his supporting role in Revolutionary Road.
I first saw Shannon onstage several years ago at a tiny Chicago venue, A Red Orchid Theatre,* where he reprised his role as the very disturbed Peter in Tracy Letts's very disturbing Bug. Shannon's performance was possibly the most riveting I've seen in any theater (his leading lady, Kate Buddeke, was also outstanding).
Since that rare experience, I've seen Shannon in several other stage productions, including Martin McDonagh's The Pillowman, Craig Wright's Lady, and Denis Johnson's Shoppers Carried by Escalators Into the Flames. In all cases, Shannon either supported the beauty of the work (as in the case of The Pillowman) or transcended it (as in the case of Johnson's theatrical misfire).
The same can be said of Shannon's consistently engaging work in a wide and growing list of films—as well as an obligatory "Law & Order" episode. However, I've found Shannon most compelling when he's embodied the very odd guy in a thin shell of normalcy, as he did in Revolutionary Road. (I'm prone to imagine that this is how the actor himself routinely goes through life.) A currently available example on DVD is Shannon's interpretation of US Marine Dave Karnes in World Trade Center (2006), a surprisingly intimate treatment of the 9/11 tragedy, given that the production was steered by blowhard Oliver Stone.
* At 1531 N. Wells. I'm terrible at square-footage estimates, but the seating area was probably the size of a large living room. It's important to state that I'll never see the movie version of Bug, lest the film spoil my memory of the stage production.
Photo of Michael Shannon from A Red Orchid Theatre.
This frigid week, the reader is referred to an update of a previous Kick-Back post.
(And just for the record, the answer to "Who is Number 1?" isn't "Pittsburgh.")
With director William Wyler, DP Gregg Toland, screenwriter Lillian Hellman, and Humphrey Bogart, Dead End (1937) is perhaps, astonishingly, a film that is less than the sum of its parts. Nevertheless, Wyler—with a fine ensemble cast (including the stage play's original "Dead End" kids)—effectively recreates a highly theatric, claustrophic corner of Manhattan, a place where slum met urban renewal in the early 20th century.
P.S. It took me forever to place a young Ward Bond as the doorman, maybe because Dead End is not a western.
Before Cate Blanchett or Helen Mirren drew on the role of Elizabeth I (like it was a freaking annuity), the Virgin Queen was reliably portrayed by Glenda Jackson. Following the 6-part mini-series "Elizabeth R" in 1971, Jackson almost immediately repeated her performance in Mary, Queen of Scots. However, most of the screen time in this film belongs to a dewy Vanessa Redgrave, as the very Catholic Mary Stuart and rival for England's throne.
There are some artistic liberties taken with the story of the royal conflict between the cousins, so don't let teenagers use the movie as a historic reference. But do point out actors, including Redgrave,* that they'll recognize from more recent films—like Timothy Dalton (aka Simon Skinner in Hot Fuzz) as Lord Darnley or Ian Holm (aka Bilbo Baggins) as David Riccio.
* For instance, kids, Redgrave was the old Briony in Atonement. Aha.
01/15/09 update: Kids won't know him, but the rest of us raised by 60s television will recognize Patrick McGoohan, aka Number 6, as Mary's half-brother, James Stuart. According to CBS news, McGoohan died Tuesday at the age of 80, after a "short illness." In memorium and as a remedy for the current deep freeze, cocoon with McGoohan's you're-so-messin'-with-my-mind-man "The Prisoner" on DVD.
