Well, dear readers, it is the day after Christmas and now every creature, even the mouse, is merrily stirring away. The night is no longer silent, there are no more fershluganah pear trees and partridges, no more calling birds, no more French hens, no more turtle doves – no, things are back to normal, at least until our next big haineshisway.com event – our New Year’s Rockin’ Eve celebration (the place to be on New Year’s Eve). But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, or even afoot of ourselves. I had a lovely Christmas Day. I woke up late, and then did a little cleaning of the home environment, and then I opened my Christmas presents. I got some very nice gifts from various and sundried folks. Then my darling daughter and her husband arrived, and we sat around the living room and many things were said and we laughed and laughed and just when we thought we could laugh no more, we laughed again. My cousins came by to say hello to the darling daughter and husband, and they brought their darling dog Casey with them. Then my daughter’s best friend, Skye, arrived, and more things were said and we laughed and laughed and just when we thought we could laugh no more, we laughed again. In addition to the present she gave me, she always includes some lottery “scratchers” – I scratched them all and I won fifteen bucks. Finally, they had to be on their merry way, as did I. We said a fond farewell, and then I headed over to Mr. Nick Redman’s home environment in the Monica of Santa. Before dinner, we watched The Producers, about which more in a moment. Nick’s ever-lovin’ Nectar made a warm and cozy turkey dinner, and, along with his ever-lovin’ daughter Rebecca, we ate and chatted and laughed and laughed. I then came home, where I sat on my couch like so much fish, whilst eating some more of dear reader Jane’s fudge.
I really wanted to like The Producers, in the same way I really want to like any movie I see. But, I’m afraid I thought it was a failure in just about every way. The biggest problem is Miss Susan Stroman’s direction. She simply knows nothing about filmmaking and it really shows. I know some people have said they like it because it looks like a 50s musical – but it doesn’t. All one has to do is actually watch a 50s musical and what you’ll find are directors who know where to put the camera, who design the numbers for film, and who design the scenes for film. Miss Stroman shoots everything flat on, as if it was a proscenium. There are no reverse shots in just about the entire film. The problem with this is that when the scenes that take place in the theater are shown there is no difference between those and the scenes in the film proper. Is it true to the show? Absolutely. Is it good cinema? No. It’s bad. Really bad. One of my favorite stage-to-film musicals, The Music Man, is also very stagy, but its director knew where to put the camera – it’s a film, not a filmed play. All the scenes in The Producers are comprised of a long shot, a closer medium shot, and over-the-shoulder shots. That’s it. I thought Matthew Broderick was actually worse than he was in the show on Broadway, and I really didn’t like him there. Somehow, the film belongs to Broderick’s character – Nathan Lane almost seems like an addendum. Part of that is the cutting of The King of Broadway – he’s robbed of his character’s entire set up, and it’s just about fatal. Roger Bart is the only one who seems to be adjusting his performance for the camera, but even he is directed to play to the third balcony occasionally. Gary Beach up close is not funny. Gary Beach on stage was marvelous. Will Ferrell, who’s been getting raves, is just a bore as Franz, the worst Franz I’ve seen. The pace is non-existent, the photography is flat as a pancake, and the relentless underscoring is nauseating. I do know there are people who are finding the film fun, and I’m sorry I’m not one of them. I sometimes think people are so starved for musicals on film that they overlook what for me are flaws that can’t be overlooked. Both Nick and I think the film will tank big time. The only good thing about Stroman’s direction (and I mean the only thing) is that she’s smart enough to show the dancer’s from head-to-toe. She doesn’t know how to film them interestingly, and neither she nor her editor have a clew as to how to edit (I stopped counting the number of laughs that were lost because the cut came in the wrong place), and the whole affair was like a bean burrito gone awry.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below, whilst we all figure out exactly how a bean burrito GOES awry.
How many dear readers will be braving the crowds today, to try and get some shopping bargains? I shan’t. It is my intention to go nowhere today – I want to just stay home and watch DVDs and eat normal amounts of foodstuffs. I will only go to the mail place, and perhaps to my DVD place, but otherwise I’m staying put.
I’ll be checking out one lovely item I received from Mr. Nick Redman – a coffee table book of Stanley Kubrick’s heretofore unpublished photographs – stuff that he shot from the time he finished high school until the time he directed his first film. I’m looking forward to perusing it thoroughly.
I was invited to go see King Kong this morning, but I think I’m going to take a pass. I’d like to see it, but the thought of sitting for over three hours in some movie theater is just not that appealing to me. So, I shall simply sit on my couch like so much fish, like a bean burrito gone awry.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, not do much of anything, I must, for example, not eat any more spaghetti, I must, for example, definitely eat more of dear reader Jane’s fudge, I must, for example, watch a DVD or three and listen to a CD or four, and I must gird my loins for the days ahead, which will be very busy indeed. Today’s topic of discussion: What are the ten best films you saw this year? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, as we begin to prepare for our annual New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.